Boyd France

Memorial Service for Boyd France

The day started in a downpour worthy of Noah, but as we drove north, the clouds drew back and the sun came out. We were on our way to the memorial service for the father of my dear friend Cathie, the flamboyant and gallant Boyd France (See Post obit). Boyd and my Uncle Quentin were dearest friends, having met while serving during the war, and the Frances have always seemed part of our family.

A very interesting and diverse group of people gathered in the ancient old farm house, home of a relation. Though tears were shed, this was not a dark occasion--all the stories of Boyd were so ebullient, so wonderful, that we were all smiling and even laughing as we remembered the way he was. His children all spoke, as did other family (including one of his grandchildren), and many friends.

One of his sons mentioned his father's way of waking up his children in the morning-a particularly aggravating merry morning ditty which he would sing to them as he flung open the bedroom doors-and suddenly all the France kids burst into song, a full throated rendition of their father's morning song: "Another Happy Happy School Day!"--an amiable little number which they sang all the way through. Pleasant enough, actually! However, I imagine that it might not be so pleasant when bellowed in your earhole at 7 in the am, every single day of the week.

One woman told the story of how Boyd and Denise met--this was in Paris, right after the war. Boyd worked for Reuters, an office where the boss hired women for their beauty AND wit (such dear friends, were the Fiendish ways of business in those days) and to get to his office, a man trod a path lined with goddesses. Boyd, stunned by the experience, assured his friends that he would date every single one of them. He asked Denise for Monday, and her neighbor for Tuesday, and the next for Wednesday, and so forth. He was a handsome man--no lady could refuse him! Denise asked one of her girl friends to wait for her elsewhere on Monday, as she assumed this arrogant American would not keep his promise--but then, interrupting the story, Denise herself, Cathie's tiny and still lovely mother, who speaks with a charming French accent which she has never lost in the 60 years that she has lived here--Denise took up the story. She said, "I did not expect him to be there--I was 20 minutes late. I looked into the bar and didn't see him, and started back up the stairs. And he grabbed my skirt!"

He never let go. They spent the evening in delighted chat, he excused himself to the other ladies, and soon married Denise, bringing her to America, to the wonderful life they had together. Boyd doted on Denise. They were always the perfect example of a loving couple to me, and to everyone who knew them. It is very hard to think of Denise existing without Boyd. I noticed that in the visitor sign in book, Denise had signed herself in as "Denise France--half of herself".

There is a gallery of lovely family photos here--thank you to Allan for putting them up!

It was a splendid occasion. Lawrence took pictures, and I have put some of them online here: See pictures.

You'll note that DOGS seem to intrude into every part of the ceremony, but Boyd would have liked that, I think.

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