PenPics
Robert Roberts C.B.E.
This eulogy was written for Robert Roberts' funeral by his daughter, Wendy Preston.
Born on 6th Feb 1925 in Wrexham, Robert came from working class roots. He was the first son of Robert Roberts and proudly said he was the 11th Robert in a row to carry the name. His dad was a train driver, town councillor and Mayor of Wrexham (1961).
He was clever and soon won a scholarship to Grove Park Grammar School (1947). From there he went to Aberystwyth University. Once a week his mum insisted he sent a bundle of washing home on the train and back would come clean clothes. He got a first in chemistry, did an MSc them moved to The Royal Institution where he used the same lab that Humphrey Davey had worked in, to gain his PhD.
While in London he met Dorothy. They married in 1950 and shortly after set sail for Canada where he was going to do his post doctoral research. Rationing was still in place in Britain so the voyage was notable for the ketchup, white bread and bananas not seen for years in Britain.
Returning to the UK in 1952 he joined Monsanto then was seconded to the new Atomic Energy laboratories at Harwell. He was the first industrial chemist to be acquired by the government for the project. Later he joined permanently and moved to Wantage Research Laboratories.
In 1963 we moved as a family to Tehran when he became the Director of the CENTO . For holidays while in Iran we went to the Caspian and Shiraz. Always loving technology I remember he used to overhaul the hospital in Shiraz’s x-ray equipment while we swam in the hospital pool.
We returned to the UK in 1966 somewhat browner than when we left. Dad joined the Department of Trade and Industry and founded the International Technological Collaboration Unit. He travelled all over the communist countries of Europe negotiating the exchange of technology for Britain. We were not always sure which country he was in at any given moment, communication was a little more basic in those days. Did you know ladies tights under a suit can keep you warm even in the bitterest Russian winter?
Sometimes there were parties held at home for the diplomats. As I got older I loved all the limos outside. Sometimes dad would whisper in my ear the immortal words “that ones KGB you know”. The Chinese always appeared very plain in their Mao suits, but the Russian concert violinist, wife of the premier was very exotic. Incidentally we can confirm that whilst Russian Caspian caviar might be one of the most expensive foods around, its still salty fish eggs and we hated it.
He also worked for the UN but this time as sole spokesman for the west as the UN tried to negotiate with the communists over technology transfer. For his work with the UN he was awarded a CBE in 1984, and I have to tell you the ladies loos in Buck palace are not that special.
Parkinson’s forced him to retire in 1985. He loved computing using the computer to write letters as his hands became too shaky to write. He battled each stage of the disease using gardening to keep his fine motor skills and resisting a wheel chair as long as possible. The disease meant that once walking he couldn’t stop. This sometimes meant we lost him as on one memorable day in Wells. We turned our backs and he was gone. We found him in Boots with the pharmacist trying to work out what on earth he was saying. He had been trying to find a loo! He never let the disease stop him from going out and always loved shopping for gadgets as we know from the contents of his garage (anyone interested in a screw cutting lathe see us later).
Lately he was confined from bed to chair but his mind was as sharp as ever. He loved visitors, never hiding away. He enjoyed his twice weekly visits to the day hospital as they would sit and do the Times crossword with him. He never failed to finish it. His grandchildren were a source of great pride.
He died as he wished, at home.