Robin Muir ☮️

Robin in  teaching mode

I visited an old family friend whom I have known for 50 years, earlier this week.  He is 93 and a little less mobile than of yore, but mentally as alert and capricious as ever. He was reading the Morning Star and concerned that his much-appreciated care assistants were contracted from one of the healthcare agencies rather than by the Council or the NHS. Consequently, they had no holiday or sick pay and had to travel between patients in their own time. It was the exploitation of labour and a result of the government’s intention to outsource public services. It was just one of the many causes he had fought against in his remarkable life. 

Having left school at 14 he became a  market gardener and then a signwriter. He served in the Royal Navy protecting the convoys that crossed the Atlantic and was on the ship that recovered the enigma code from the Germans. He then trained as a teacher in the post-war era of egalitarianism and subsequently taught in primary schools until retiring as a headteacher in Galloway almost thirty years ago. He was a close friend of my father, they had both belonged to the Clarion cycling club and my father had taken over his job as a market gardener.

His first wife was an artist and teacher but died young, after which he brought up his two sons who were close friends of mine at school. He inculcated them with a love of cycling, music, and radio and with values that were international and egalitarian. He was chair of Preston CND for many years, he had pen friends around the world, he cycled, built an open-top car using Morris Minor mechanicals in a chassis topped off with a racy red glass-fibre body shell. 

He married his present wife, Brenda, whom he met on a peace trip to Poland. They have been adventurers ever since, travelling widely but well-grounded in British culture - radio, music, gardening, wildlife and left-wing causes. 

Throughout his career his abiding passion was the peace movement and, like many others who had served and seen suffering in the war, he was an internationalist and had a deep respect for all mankind. Despite actively protesting for half a lifetime he had given up on the likelihood of any UK government opting out of the nuclear arms race. But he observed the beautiful irony of the present Tory-led coalition perhaps having to accede that they could not afford a replacement for Trident. He mused that it might be possible to divert funds to provide his carers with a pension and a living wage instead. But he didn't expect this coalition government to legislate for improved working conditions from the phalanx of unethical healthcare contractors.

After retirement, he did things that others only spoke about. He travelled the world staying with like-minded friends from Denmark and Poland to Japan. He rode from Lands End to John o' Groats on a tandem, pursued his love of wildlife, became a full-time peacenik and, amazingly, moved house six times to enjoy parts of Scotland, Cumbria and Lancashire that were the roots of his life. It has been a life well-travelled and astutely observed. As we scanned the Morecambe Bay horizon from his bedroom he told me that he would like to move next to the Scottish Borders. After all, he had lived in his present house for five years. 

Robin has an independence of mind and an adventurous spirit that make every day special. He enjoys debate, challenging conventions, protecting nature and lives frugally. These qualities ensure his health and well-being. These innate personal characteristics in life have rubbed off on those privileged to be taught, teased or unwittingly mentored, let's call it taunted, by him. 

Postscript.  Robin passed away at the end of October 2010 and a wonderful celebration of his life took place on 16 April 2011 when friends from all parts of the UK and Japan assembled to reflect on the inspiration he had been to them. Peace be with you, Robin. 

The Remembrance Lunch