The Ramblings of a Registrar

Published in Harpenden Parish Magazine, LINK, December 1972

It was, I think, one day near the beginning of August.  I was in my kitchen when the telephone bell rang.

"Harpenden double two four nine", I announced.

"Roger here" said a voice.  "Is that you, Muff?"

I said I was Muff - those who don't know me need not be surprised at my nickname.

"Which Roger are you?" I asked.

"Roger Davis.  Muff, I was just wondering if . . ."

Of course I said yes.  He made it sound so easy.  A mere nothing.  Any fool could do it - he almost said that.  He didn't think even I could muff this one up.  Just keep a list of the people who want to attend Social Events in the Stewardship Conference and of course note what event they will attend.

"Quite a simple job but very necessary. We'd be most grateful."

"All right, Roger, I’ll have a shot at it.  I'll do it with pleasure.  Thanks for asking me."

"Thank YOU", he said, "I'll tell Harold."

"Do", I replied, wondering who on earth Harold was.

"You'll be hearing from him or Merrick".

"When?", I asked. I knew who Merrick was and began to feel better.

"Oh, not yet.  Plenty of time".

"Of course," I agreed.

We rang off.  Plenty of time for what, I wondered.  The Stewardship Conference?  Hadn't I been reading my LINK properly?  I supposed I should have known all about it.

The explanations begin

Some time passed and I heard no more.  Then Harold Beck rang to know if he and Merrick could come to see me.  We fixed 11.30 am on Sunday August 27th.

There we were at 11.30 am precisely.  Seated round the table.  Merrick one end, me the other.  Harold in the middle, like a mini Board.

Meeting.  Very serious.  They both had papers.  I had nothing.  Suddenly Harold took a piece of paper and folded it into three, or was it four?

"They'll be this sort of shape" he announced.

I tried to look and sound intelligent but could think of nothing better to say than "Yes".

"You will be provided with headed sheets to enter up on," said Merrick.

"Thank you," I said.  “That'll be a great help?”

I thought perhaps the headings would explain things to me.

"We'll want two copies of it all”, said Merrick.

"Yes, certainly," I answered.

"The invitations should be out shortly," said Harold, turning his kindly eyes upon me with rather a pitying expression.  He could see I hadn't really a clue about what they were talking and hadn't the courage to ask - and he didn't yet know I was called Muff!

Then he and Merrick started talking to each other.  I was forgotten.  I listened.  The whole operation fell into position in my mind.  I saw exactly what I had to do.  Any fool would not be able to do it but, given time, this one could.

"Right" I interrupted them.  "I see exactly what you want me to do.  I teach all day, but I will go down to that office every evening from 5.00 to 6.30 pm and deal with these replies entering them on the sheets Merrick is providing".

"Peter Cunneen", said Merrick.

"Peter Cunneen," I agreed feebly.  The dazed feeling came over me again.  Who was Peter Cunneen?

They left me then with instructions to attend a meeting at All Saints at 2.30 pm on September 16th.

Signing in a circle - a new ritual?

Now, at the end of November, I cannot remember much about this meeting except that we sat in a circle round the hall and I was next to Flora who pointed out Peter Cunneen to me.  Everybody signed their names on a piece of paper except me.  I was asked not to.  I wondered why.  Was I too insignificant?  Or too important?  Or did they think the name Muff would look too undignified in this imposing list?  I CAN write my proper name on formal occasions!

As far as I was concerned I learnt three things that afternoon: one, Peter Cunneen's identity; two, that he wanted everybody's telephone number entered on my lists; and three, I should try to organise helpers to man the office while I was at school during the day.  I thought number three would be rather difficult but I got invaluable help from Mr. & Mrs. Johnson, Mr. Arnold, Ursula Hooper, Mary Searby, Joan Maw and Audrey Ballard.

The office was now open for replies

So at 5.00 pm on Monday, September 18th I entered my office for the first time.  Nothing to do. Harold helped me rig up a table, kindly lent by Penny Young, and we stole chairs from St. Nicholas Hall.  I fixed myself up a notice board and provided myself with paper clips, drawing pins, pencils, biros - very efficient, very businesslike - but no work.

Any fool could do it.  Roger was right.  They were pleasant, quiet evenings in my office at first.  Sunny, warm evenings with little of the work I expected.  Plenty of time to correct Form II's History Books and to write to my daughter.  People looked in - Harold, Peter, Sara, Merrick, the Clergy, David Newbury-Ecob, Derek Elliott and others.  I made the acquaintance of Gordon the Printer whose building I shared.  Altogether very pleasant and friendly and simple.  Nothing to muff or muddle.  My kind helpers came in by day and did the dull job of looking up telephone numbers for Peter Cunneen.  I entered the acceptances on the appropriate lists and also on what my three “Bosses"(Harold, Merrick and Peter) called the Master List.  Everything went calmly and well.

The action started in earnest

Suddenly WONG!  Twenty or thirty replies a day came rolling in.  A telephone was installed.  Harold, Merrick and Peter all developed mild little phobias.  Peter wanted a third copy of everything.  Audrey Ballard kindly saw to this.  Merrick, for some private reason, wanted to run off with the precious Master List.  Harold, patient Harold, listened to all my complaints and worries, he sorted out queries and difficulties, he laughed or grumbled with me as I felt inclined, and he steered me through the sea of letters and forms.  Some were very odd, some were very amusing, some made us angry and some made us anxious.  Anxious to help.  Anxious to help the lady who wanted so much to come to something but didn't know what.  Anxious to help the people who were "not interested", or the few who said they "already knew all about Stewardship”, or those who had "no time".  I had several phone calls from people telling me their troubles and difficulties:  "I'm too old, dear, but I shall pray for you all".  "Help me to decide what to go to, dear, and can I really be taken by car?"  "I did put myself down for a tea party but I'm not up to it.  I won't be going.  Sorry to be so much trouble."

I can think of two particular conversations which made me want to cry.

Then there were others: "Don't put me down, I'm too busy."  "I shan't be joining in, I already do all I can".  "I'm already pledged.  Quite a big sum.  I shouldn't be asked for more."

The big idea hit us on Sunday evening

So it went on, smoothly enough really until Harold suddenly told me of his BIG IDEA.  I'm sure it had been in his mind all along but it came as a surprise to me.  Every A.R. had to be given a list of the people in his Area who had not replied.  (At this point we had received about 250 replies out of the 950 which finally reached us.)  Ernie Arnold, Mr. & Mrs. Johnson and Ursula Hooper worked very hard at this.  Gordon, busy printing, became quite used to my company in the evenings.  Even so I did not see how the lists could be completed by Harold's D. Day, Monday, October 9th.  So Ursula and I decided to take coffee and sandwiches into the office after Evensong on Sunday the 8th.  We had quite an enjoyable evening writing lists and sorting them into suitable heaps all over the floor of the office.  Ursula seems to suffer from the same complaint as me - a common malady among females I think: the more tired one gets the more hilariously funny things become.  Our sides aching with laughter, we decided at about 10.15 that we should stop.  I came the next day directly after school at 4 o'clock and finished the last little bit off.  I found nothing particularly funny then.

Harold and I had two quite pleasant and busy evenings with A.R's calling in for, and checking their lists and once these were handed out again there was a slight lull for a day or two.  Then another WONG!  The fruits of the A.R's labour poured in: 30 an evening, 40, 50, 60 - the record was 76.  76 names to be entered on four lists, details concerning children, transport and telephone numbers to be noted.  Gordon again became used to my company: the clamour of the printing machine and the chatter of Gordon's “Young Wives" who help him filled the room as I wrote - and chatted a bit too.  It was fun.  I enjoyed it.  I had never spent evenings like it before.  Replies rolled in.  The Rector gave out in Church that The Registrar Mrs. Winifred Hunter would deal with the replies.

I heard my official title

The Registrar, Mrs. Winifred Hunter - to one who all her life - over half a century - had been known as Muff, The Registrar, Mrs. Winifred Hunter sounded quite something!  I decided to ring up my son and my brother and tell them who I was: I nearly laughed aloud, especially when I caught a twinkle in Peter Graham's eye.  The Registrar Mrs. Winifred Hunter, most impressive . . .

We were nearing now the time for the first Social Event.  My job was nearly over.  Two more weeks in the office to readjust peoples alterations and see to cancellations.  Ring up Mr. Le Maistre most evenings to verify transport arrangements.  Count up every evening how many were attending each social event the next day and ring and tell Peter Cunneen.

Stewardship, Sonship, Time, Talents, Money.  So much thought, so much talent, so much time and work and money too, has been spent by Harold and others over the organisation of this Conference.  Perhaps I in my position of Registrar have been able to realise this more than anyone.  I think it was Margaret Aaronson who reminded us at one of the meetings at what I believe is Eton School motto:

                                                                Laborare est orare.

                                                                              WINIFRED HUNTER

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