Maple leaf imprint, Aylesbury, 1970

I was born into an institution, which in those days were called ‘Mother and Baby Homes’, in London. It is where unmarried mothers were dispatched out of disgrace. 

There was great shame in giving birth out of wedlock for mothers and for many they didn’t have a choice but to be hidden from the world around them and to give up their child for adoption.

Obviously it’s all a bit vague because I’ve only picked up the story third hand, but I was with my birth mother for 3 months, and then adopted at about 8 months to a family in Dunstable. My Mum, Dad and I later moved to Aylesbury in Buckinghamshire because my dad got a job in the print works there when I was four years old.

Travel souvenirs and family mementos

My adoptive parents were completely different to me, particularly Dad. He was 6ft 2, muscular, worked with his hands and I... well I was ‘Little Ian’. We were completely atodds. I knew from a very young age that I was adopted, there was no big reveal, it was obvious and was never kept secret from me.

I’m forever grateful for the support my adoptive family gave me, but I grew up feeling increasingly different. I was much more into a book than football boots, and have never really followed sport. I’ve always loved cars and I love to travel. Christianity became very important to me in my teen years.

About 20 years ago I met my birth mother. I was shocked to find she has an interest in cars. Turns out she’d visited most of the same countries that I have. I’m a thinker, and I’ve spent a lot of time wondering if it’s nature or nurture, or, maybe it is just ’coincidence’.

Oxford exams, mortarboard, rowing photo & books

I was the first person in my family to go to a Grammar school. I was also the first person in my family to go to University. And, not just any uni, Oxford University.

You might have heard of it.

There’s a guaranteed imposter syndrome for someone like me in a place like Oxford. Surely they must have mixed me up with someone else? I couldn’t help thinking “How did I get here?” I worked hard after that.

Similarly, through my youth I was an atheist but I was the first person in our family to embrace religion. I saw people who I’d describe as ‘contented’ but not in some superficial way. I wondered why. But then I joined a Church Youth Group on a Sunday night and slowly things started to make sense for me. Someone said to me “give yourself over to God” and when I did it all made sense. At first, my parents thought I’d gone off with the moonies, or joined a cult. I didn’t, I just found Christianity.

Selections from my car brochure collection & old hand-operated horn

I volunteer at the British Motor Museum. Now that I’m retired I get to indulge my obsession with cars. I have always loved them. My mum insists my first word was Car.

It’s the design, the performance, and the history that fascinates.

For a few years we lived in Detroit which is known as “motor city.” Like the West Midlands, cars run through its veins. Just a few weeks ago we went back to visit friends there, and of course I had to go to the Henry Ford Museum. Our friends even got us a free ticket, which was an added bonus.

Volunteering at the British Motor Museum isn’t just about cars though. They have a real commitment to community and to folk in need. They do great work there and I love being a part of it. The museum has taken me to care homes, dementia cafes, working with schools and even asylum hotels (which are nowhere near as glamorous as we’re told).

LA, and my dream car there on their driveway

We lived in Los Angeles for three years, because work asked me to. It was an incredible opportunity.

The temperature was perfect, never too hot, never too cold. Nearly always sunny.

You’d drive home from work and you would see whales leaping in the ocean. A lot of our friends had a pool in their gardens. We could see the Hollywood sign from ours.

But, it didn’t feel real.

As our children were getting older we decided that we didn’t want them growing up in a place like L.A. In many ways it was idyllic but it might have created some false expectations for them. We were a bit homesick too.

We moved back to our house in Solihull in 2001. It was a good move.

We’ve been happy here ever since.

Moskvich model car and macrame from valued friends

Hazel and I are part of a massive, just massive community. No matter where in the world we go or live, we instantly walk into a ready made community. Spain, France, USA, we always have something in common - a shared God.

When we moved to Detroit for my work, one of the first things Hazel did was search out nearby churches. We quickly found one and settled there. We had furniture to move and the church had a minibus and the minister there didn’t hesitate for a second in lending it to us to shift the heavy stuff. There is always somebody in the church family who is happy to help.

When we opened up our home to Ukrainians, we weren’t doing it on our own. We were part of the church network we belong to, who all came together to support each other, and of course those in need. If your guest family needed a cot, someone would get theirs out of the loft, if you needed help with food someone would sweep in and offer some. It was never just Hazel and I, we are part of our Church family and so we are never alone.

Pottery model of home, biscuit tin, and teacups

Hazel and I were on our way back from a holiday in France on the ferry into Portsmouth. There were groups of women with children, speaking a language that we didn’t recognise; it’s not French, it’s not German, it didn’t sound Polish. Being a nosey person I asked the Brits they were with, and it turns out they were Ukrainian. Oh, oh, alright.

And, I’m gonna tear up as I say this, as we came into Portsmouth, there was some bloomin’ great big Ukrainian flag hung on the coast line. They weren’t coming to the UK because they wanted to, they were coming because they were escaping a war.

This is real. It’s real.

That’s all I can say, it was just so real. Real kids looking absolutely terrified and receiving a grand welcome. Hazel and I just looked at each other and said “we have to do this, we just have to”.

Our faith says: we should welcome the strangers, welcome the outcasts, take care of the prisoners and widows. We had to do our bit to help.

New Year’s Eve splashing in Trafalgar Square Fountains

I had a good friend in my youth group who was also called Ian, we were known as Big Ian and Little Ian... I was Little Ian.

Although I was an atheist at the time we used to go to a church youth club together on a Sunday evening. The main attraction being that the youth group had girls in it and we went to a single sex grammar school. So to me it seemed a great idea.

One day two new girls walked into the youth group, they were sisters whose parents had just moved to Aylesbury. When they walked in, Big Ian dug me in the ribs and said “there’s one each”.

And that’s when I met Hazel.

Letters (Hazel has kept everything) and the cars I drove to London

Hazel and I started going out when I was 21 and she was 18 - I was working in Peterborough but she was working in London so I would be driving up and down the M11 or A1, or whatever, most weekends.

Or I'd go down on the train, which was interesting because back in those days, you’d get back to Peterborough on the last train on a Sunday night, and it was just deserted.

There was no question of “can I afford a taxi”, there weren’t any, so I’d have to walk home. Between the visits there were no mobile phones or texts to stay in touch, it was letters which would arrive midweek.

There was one point where she did go “we can't be hacking this travel, it's not going to work”. But when she came home from work on the Friday evening I remember me being stood outside her front door saying, “okay, you tell me it won't work... because I'm here now”.

Ian and Hazel’s early years in photographs

I'd looked at a house in Peterborough for £19,000, and figured I couldn't afford it. I didn't have any money. But, I was forking out this rent every month and with house prices going through the roof at the time I thought “How do I get out of this spiral?”.

And Hazel being Hazel said, “Well, I've got some money. I’ll lend you the deposit”. We were still just going out then but I bought the first house I could afford, with her deposit.

Her mother took her to one side and said, “YOU DID WHAT? How much did yougive him????” It was £1,000, back then, which was a lot of money.

“You gave him £1,000??? You're not even engaged or anything.” And Hazel went, “No, no, no, no, but it's fine, it's fine.” We did get engaged and we got married, and we lived in that house in Peterborough.

Good job it worked out.

Texas Lone Star, map, long-distance walking book, & registration plates

Hazel and I have been together since 1985 and we’ve been married nearly 37 years.

I’ve known her since I was 18.

Together we have two lovely, talented children Liz and Richard, and two grandchildren - including little Callum who was born last week over in Texas.

We opened up our home to a few Ukrainians who needed refuge and human support. We could only do this with an enormous amount of support and help from our church family.

Through our life-time we have worked and lived in Peterborough, Detroit, Los Angeles and Solihull - which, before we moved here, we thought was close to Manchester!

It isn’t.

You could say... all in all, it worked out.

Teddy bear used for comforting children who visit school nurse.

I love Hazel as much today as I did when she was 18.

She's incredibly kind and compassionate, and nursing was the perfect career for her. She's a fantastic mother to the kids, which they both recognise, and she's all I've ever wanted.

She's quite sturdy when she has to be, even if she cracks afterwards. Yeah, she's quite tough. When we moved to America we got her a car and said “You're going to have to drive on the wrong side of the road. You're going to have to just throw yourself at this”, and she did. She did... deep breath.

It was outside of her comfort zone, but the job move was the best thing for me and ultimately for the family, so she would do it. She would do it for the sake of us and the job.

That’s Hazel being Hazel.