Coincidence meeting

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I was moving with my wife and small twins to Liverpool, and called on my uncle, a farmer, and aunt, my father's sister, in Stroud, Gkoucestershire, before we left. If you see a man in Liverpool with one arm, they joked, he's an old friend. Give our regards to him. On our first Sunday in the city in 1958 my wife and I decided to walk with our children to nearby Sefton Park, and called in for a coffee. Sitting at a table was a man with one arm. Just for fun I approached him and asked him if he was, by name, the man my uncle and aunt knew. He was.
Total votes: 336
Date submitted:Sun, 15 Jan 2012 10:57:52 +0000Coincidence ID:4466

Comments

Anonymous (not verified)

Sun, 15/01/2012 - 11:25am

My wife was expecting twins, and in 1956 we were renting, furnished, in Stroud, our first home in the front part of a huge, solidly built Victorian folly, once run with the aid of a small army of servants. I was in the kitchen, in what had been the cloak room, downstairs. My wife went to have a bath via a broad and grand staircase opposite which turned left twice on to a landing, off which were bedrooms, a lavatory and the bathroom, separated from the kitchen below by stout flooring. I suddenly had a feeling that all was not well, although I had heard no alarm or warning. I went up the stairs and knocked on the bathroom door, but there was no reply. When I opened it, my wife was crouching, undressed, by the side of the bath, and immediately collapsed, unconscious. I lifted her out and carried her to a bed in a nearby bedroom and opened the window. A neighbour called the doctor. After a short while she showed signs of life. She had been overcome by carbon monoxide from a faulty geyser. The doctor who arrived soon afterwards said I was lucky to have saved her. She said afterwards she did not call out or otherwise try to alert me. I saved three lives that day.

Anonymous (not verified)

Sun, 15/01/2012 - 11:37am

At the age of 89 my mother had brain surgery to remove a clot after a fall, and my wife and I visited her in hospital afterwards. She was still slightly confused when we admired flowers by her bed and asked who had brought them. She gave the name of a former Lord of the Manor in the village many miles away where she had been born and brought up. The man she mentioned, who was long dead, came of a family who were benefactors to the district, and their large house is well known. We concluded the flowers had been brought by someone else. That evening we had guests to dinner, including a couple whose wife brought flowers. She was a member of the wider family of the lord of the manor my mother had mentioned.