Tony Ward

Part 1:
I am the youngest of 4 brothers but over the last 40 years I have probably seen far more of Tony than my 3 brothers and I have always looked on him as more a brother than brother in- law.

I first met him when he and Ina lived at their cottage in Ley Hill near Chesham where Tony had already demonstrated his impressive DIY skills.

Quite early on he told me he had completely relocated the staircase (something he seemed to do quite often in other properties) although on the first occasion he wasn’t quite sure whether he had done this by the book but seemed comfortable that the roof hadn’t fallen in …yet.

However I was always impressed and not a little envious of his wide-ranging DIY skills – enabling him to turn his hand to almost everything short of a complete house build which I think he would have embarked with great enthusiasm and skill given the opportunity.

Tony was working in Xerox in a high pressure selling role at that time and I was a partner in a printing, copying and stationery business so we had lot in common and we often talked about the huge pressure the Xerox and later Kodak jobs put on their salesmen to deliver.
There seemed to be a Company culture of moving their employees around regularly to encourage bigger properties with higher mortgages to keep the pressure on the reps to sell and earn commission to maintain their lifestyle.

When our business moved premises Ina and Tony came to visit and Tony typically brought along half of his extensive toolkit offering to carry out any modifications on the spot that we needed to the shop premises.

On another occasion he saved our skin when I backed over our empty buggy on a holiday in France. Tony appeared producing a rivet gun which he just happened to have packed in case it was needed and this saved my bacon. This became a bit of a family joke after that and a great example of his planning to be ready for any eventuality.

His move to far less stressed jobs in later life seemed suit him far better and his time as a guitar teacher helped to inspire many others with his love for music.

From there the family moved first to Chesham and then to Chepstow in a huge and very impressive house. We spent one Christmas there with Tony’s mother and father in law when Ina and Frances dropped the bombshell to their Mother and Father that they were both pregnant. From there to Cheddar and another lovely house and plenty of potential projects this time Tony spared no time in starting the transformation. This was followed by three other house moves all providing the opportunity to scratch the itch and demonstrate his proficiency in house improvements

During the time we both had growing families - with similar ages Tony and Ina with 4 children with Frances and I sticking at 3. We spent several years holidaying in France together. This provided a great opportunity for cousins, sisters and in laws to spend time together. Tony’s skill in sandcastle creations are evidenced by videos of the children sitting in near immaculate sand cars complete in every detail.

Tony was also a genius at packing a car that somehow held 14 days of clothes, food, equipment 4 children 2 adults and a generous selection of tools including of course the rivet gun. We would meet him in France normally just the car with Ina and him and then four little heads would pop out of blankets and duvets. Then the acquisition of a trailer which released more space in the car for growing children and plenty of biscuits.

As the children grew up and made their own arrangements family holidays in France transitioned into annual gatherings at Wickham, Cropredy and New Forest Folk festivals with Hilary joining us at each one.

A few snapshots of memories I will always have:-

He was the tidiest person I knew with undoubtedly the tautest, neatest and perfectly positioned tent guy ropes on any festival camp sites we stayed at together. It almost looked like he had ironed the tent and if he had packed an iron he would have done that.

Tony could be quite impulsive. This was evidenced on quite a few occasions on camping holidays and festivals we shared when he decided with barely a moments notice to go home early if the weather forecast was bad. On one occasion when we were Eurocamping in France my family went out for the day when the rain didn’t stop and returned to the campsite to find the Ward’s tent was empty except for a brief note of explanation and a bowl of fruit.

It became an regular event that when he came back from the car boot sale at the Cropredy festival he would be clutching an armful of guitars to take home refurbish and sell to his students or sometimes to keep. On another occasion we went to a garage sale during the Wickham Folk festival and while we were browsing through the books and bric a brac he spotted that the houseowner was selling his car made an offer and bought it on the spot - I believe it was his first Subaru.

We used to meet at a service station near Oxford to go to the Cropredy Festival and after breakfast we would go to the M&S there and fill the car up with all types of delicious and mostly fresh food most of it with a very short use by or best before date. By the following morning he would start to worry about the food in his camping fridge was keeping fresh and offer it round to Hilary, Frances and I during morning coffee - normally exasperated if we didn’t want to take the warm quiche or melted chocolate biscuits off his hands.

Ina & Tony always maintained high standards especially in their tent and Tony would be happy for hours during the morning or afternoon tidying up, rearranging and finessing the smallest item in his car and tent. This process invariably resulted him joining the rest of us sitting outside drinking coffee and asking Ina where she had put something with the inevitable reply from her that she hadn’t seen or touched it and he must have tidied it away. He would normally reappear after a few minutes looking somewhat sheepish with it in his hands.

Part 2:
After a few years of festival going we learnt that it was better to leave the campsite and make our way to the festival field rather than waiting forever for Tony to finish securing the tent, packing his chair, tidying up. He would eventually join us sometimes after an hour or so.

Tony was excellent company but occasionally exasperating. On our annual trip to the New Forest Folk Festival we normally had a day out in Salisbury splitting up to visit shops then meet for coffee. One year he announced that he wanted to meet somewhere definitely very sunny and not shady. We took considerable time and pains looking at all the options finally the perfect spot for him with a chair in the sun while some of welcomed the shadier spots available. When Tony arrived he announced it was too sunny and he wanted to sit in the shade.




French family holidays transitioned into annual gatherings at Wickham, Cropredy and New Forest Folk festivals with Hilary joining us at each one.

When Tony became ill for the first time I was incredibly impressed by his fortitude - never a fan of hospitals and doctors he dealt with the difficulties, worry and invasive procedures and probably inevitable queues and delays, which he also hated, with fortitude stoicism and courage. Despite all this he continued to come to festivals and live as normal a life as he could and I rarely heard him complain. At the new Forest Folk Festival last year he was not well enough to put his tent up but well enough to sit on the sidelines and tell us we where we were going wrong. It was very ironic that at the last festival bad weather forced a decision to go home early.

Uncle Tony was one of those rare people who brought light and calm everywhere he went. His sandcastles were amazing works of art, crafted with the same joy and care he brought to everything he did. He was always smiling, always ready to fix anything, I never once saw him worried or stressed; he had a quiet strength that made you feel everything would be okay.

Lovely memories of our eurocamp holidays, the fantastic sandcastles and the shelter on the beach. The photos and videos show there were as good as we all remember them. My earliest memory is pestering Uncle Tony to repair a ride on tractor. Which he did, showing me how he did it. I remember him explaining it to me in detail.

Some of the happiest memories from my childhood are the summer holidays we spent all together in France. Those times with Uncle Tony, Aunty Ina, and all our cousins were the best

Uncle Tony was at the heart of it. I remember so clearly the sand sculptures he and my dad would build for us on the beach—huge boats we could sit in until the sea washed them away.

One year, when it started raining on the beach and everyone else was leaving, we refused to leave. Uncle Tony dug a huge hole in the sand, big enough for 11 of us to fit in and we covered it with sun umbrellas. He even carved out little seats in the walls of the, we then waited until the rain stopped.

Those moments were special, and are the ones I’ll always carry with me. Uncle Tony was a big part of all these memories, and I’ll always remember those summers.

I first met Tony in London in the early 1970s, when we were both studying interior design. Even then, he stood out—not just for his talent, which was considerable, but for his unmistakable sense of humor and easygoing presence. Life took us in different directions and we lost touch for many years. But recently, we reconnected via the internet and when my wife Sandy and I visited Axbridge, it was as if no time had passed. Tony said that he felt that Sandy was an old friend. That meeting was a real gift

Tony was one of those rare people who chose passion over convention. While many of us settled into office jobs behind design desks, Tony followed his love of music and teaching. He had a natural gift for both, and a way of connecting with others that was genuine and generous.

He lived with an artistic sensibility—whether it was his music, his sketches, or his eye for the subtle beauty of everyday things. Country life suited him. He had a deep appreciation for the slower pace, the changing light, the charm and history of Somerset. And of course, he had strong opinions about our respective homes; Ruislip vs Kilburn—the noisy city vs the quiet country debate—with his heart leaning toward the wild and the grounded.

Tony told me with a grin when I visited him in the North that the pubs weren’t heated, so people just kept their overcoats on. It was a small observation, but very him—keen-eyed, dry-witted, and effortlessly funny.

I remember him during the student protests against Margaret Thatcher—he was asked to join the union movement. But Tony never needed banners or politics to assert who he was. He walked through life with an authentic, natural curiosity. He didn’t posture. He didn’t pretend. He would have been terrible at politics.

More than anything, Tony was devoted to Ina and his children, and clearly proud of their achievements and their partners. He loved his family with a deep affection.

Reconnecting with Tony reminded me that true friendship endures, even across decades. I’ll remember him as someone who lived life on his own terms, full of humor, talent, and heart.

Tony was a great man who had such a huge and direct influence on my approach to music. I will always be grateful for the years of tuition and his mentorship.

I'll always remember the coffee and rocky roads we used to enjoy while jamming blues licks. I wouldn't be where I am today without those years of lessons from such a great (and patient) teacher. He will be missed by many, and always remembered!

Part of his influence will always live on through my music, and so many of his students who were fortunate enough to be taught by him.

My deepest condolences, and much love,

Pete

I first met Tony in 1978 when we both worked at Rank Xerox in North London and swiftly established mutual interest in guitars, live music, real ales and anything that resulted in laughter.
At that time Tony and Ina had a lovely little cottage out in Ley Hill...which was semi-detached to a pub and Tony had built a small 4 track studio in the garage. So that took care of most of our common interests...

Over those early years Tony became a warm, reliable and constant friend, along with Ina whose patience, often late into the night, with over-loud, well-oiled ‘rehearsing’ was remarkable.

Over the years we moved jobs (and even countries) but we tried to keep in touch over the phone or meet-ups and eventually Kathryn and I moved to Bath. My son had broken the neck of his guitar and I Googled for someone to repair it and who popped up? Luthier extraordinaire Tony Ward, based in Cheddar. He fixed the guitar, and quite soon I soon found myself playing in the ‘Famous’ Cheddar Blues Band – a very special time, which got me back into playing live.

Over those 47 years I knew a man whose warmth, generosity, talents and steady way of always being there, each time just like before, will be irreplaceable.

Tony often finished a phone call with the words “It was lovely to hear your voice...”

I met Tony in 1965 when we both worked at Heal’s in Tottenham Court Road in London. We lived near each other too; him in Ruislip and me in Eastcote. We discovered a mutual interest in music and formed a group which was called Cashbox. We turned professional in 1969, playing up and down the country and including a live broadcast on Radio 1 in July 1969. Great fun with Tony in the van and on stage. He was my oldest friend and I will miss him dearly…..

Tony was, quite simply, one of nature’s gentlemen. Patient kind and funny. Modest about his achievements he was a highly accomplished artist and photographer and a superb guitarist. We first met 30 years ago when I auditioned to become the drummer with the Cheddar Blues Band. This was to become one of the musical highlights of my life. Playing drums behind Tony was inspiring. The wefting and weaving between him and Stewart, his blistering, sometimes rather extended, solos made me want to drive the band even harder but on the slower more thoughtful ballads just sit back and leave space for the notes to come through. I still miss playing in that band.
I will miss Tony even more, every memory of him makes me smile.
The calm and courageous way that he coped with his long illness is staggering.
In one of my last visits to him he said “ I’ve had a good life, I have a wonderful family, Ina and I have been married for 50 years, it was love at first sight for me and I wouldn’t have wanted to spend them with anyone else.”
Tracey and I love you Tony, bless you my friend xx

Tony you were a great friend and a super musician. Your encouragement and faith in me when I started my musical journey is something I will always be grateful for. So many songs come to mind but your skillful renditions of 'Hideaway' were always such a delight to be part of. We had such incredible times playing and recording, sharing a beer, talking music and everything creative. May you remain front and centre at the great gig in the sky.

Dear Tony

Rewind to 1995, our first encounter at the White Hart in Cheddar. You introduced yourself to me as an Eric Clapton/Peter Green soundalike. We got together for a jam and you were as good as your word – note for note renditions of “Hideaway” and “All Your Love” off the John Mayall Beano album. Before long you had invited me to join your band, the Cheddar Blues Band, and after a couple of rehearsals we played our first gig at the White Hart marking the beginning of a 30 year musical collaboration and close friendship.

Thanks to your local connections and acquaintance with pub landlords the CBB played regularly in local pubs and clubs for many years as well as introducing blues music to unsuspecting audiences at weddings and birthday parties. As well as leading the band through classics of the electric blues and R’n’B repertoire, you struck a wonderful rapport with audiences with your engaging sense of humour, witty onstage comments and inclusion of party tunes delivered in your own inimitable way with energy and playful enthusiasm that endeared you to so many who saw the band play. “Brown Eyed Girl”, I Saw Her Standing There”, “Roll Over Beethoven” and others were guaranteed to get people up and dancing in the second set. You really knew how to combine the blues with well-known “crowd pleasers” so that everyone went home happy.

As a guitar player you were captivating to watch and listen to. You excelled in slow blues tunes such as “Have You Ever Loved A Woman” where your heartfelt vocals were complemented by the stunning virtuosity of your guitar playing. You played with an intensity of feeling that touched the hearts and souls of all who had the pleasure to see you in action. Vivid dynamics, from a whisper to a scream, and passages played with ferocious speed, your solos told a story that carried the audience along with you. And always a cheeky grin at the end!

Fast forward to 2019, a time of medical recovery for you, which you bore with great resilience and optimism. For us a time to collaborate on studio recording and writing music together the fruits of which materialised in the form of the CD titled “doublevision”. Early spring 2020 and just as we began to plan distributing and selling the CD, people’s lives changed forever with lockdowns and covid.

Tony my old friend, I have countless wonderful memories of times spent playing the blues with you, sharing a joke and a tall story over a pint, and an enduring friendship. You will be remembered with much love and affection by so many who had the pleasure of watching and listening to you playing your guitar and learning to play the guitar under your guidance. You had a sense of humour second to none and a heart of gold. God bless you my blues brother and special buddy. I look forward to seeing you again “Further On Up The Road”.

I've spent a lot of time thinking about the times spent with Tony. One that comes up is from a long time ago when we stayed over at Cheddar and fuelled with vodka we hatched a plan to open a child friendly cafe/bar in St Ives where musicians could drop in and play/jam.
More recently lots of festival memories especially Cropredy before he became ill. Sitting round after the music finished with Tony playing guitar and telling stories infused with his humour. I asked Mick what his enduring memory of Tony is and he said his Pythonesque humour.
Such a lovely person.
I will always hear Tony playing Horizons ✨️🎶❤️

Tony

Tony has been part of my life for most of my life, i think I first met him when I was 12.

Ina and Tony were a match made in heaven met on a blind date but been together ever since. He was an artist, musician and a DIY expert.

If anything was broken he could mend it. He was never without the right tools.

We had such happy camping holidays in France with Tony building the best sand castles on the beach., digging holes big enough for us to shelter from the rain. Saving the day when Andrew drove over Tim’s buggy. Who would have thought that Tony would have a rivet gun in his tool kit.

Happy memories of going to see Tony play with his band - the two of us gate crashing a wedding (accidentally).

Lasting memories of Tony’s art hanging on my wall - never will be forgotten.

Dear Ina, Jo, Amy, Lucy and Adam,

I am so sorry to hear about Tony, sending you all much love and care, you’re all in my thoughts. I remember Tony with much fondness, love and light. I enjoyed being in his company a great deal, always feeling welcomed and privileged that he should willingly share his time, his interests, passions, intelligence, humour and humanity with me. I spent many a happy occasion playing music with him, setting the world to rights over a beer and laughing a great deal, mostly about nonsense! I think what I remember most is that he made it so easy to be comfortable, to just be who I was when I spent time with him. And that there was an honesty, warmth and openness about him that put me totally at ease, it was a good and happy place to be. I will forever remember him smiling, guitar in hand and possibly a pint close by, getting ready to play some fantastic music to people who loved listening him play. What a wonderful man and beautiful soul.

Dear Ina
My Heart goes out to you and the family today on the sad news of Tony’s passing. I have such lovely memories that we shared all together with you both. Toney was such a genuine, lovely person who had a heart of gold and kindness which has always stayed with me

Dear Ina, I was so sorry to hear from Mel of the sad news of Tony's passing, please accept my sincere condolences. Although we have not been in contact for many years I have fond memories of sitting next to Tony in class at Bishop Winnington Ingram School in Ruislip, where we all met, with him firing ink soaked paper pellets at the teachers blackboard with his ruler to all and sundry and of our times at the club in Rickmansworth with him strumming away.
My love and thoughts are with you and your family at this sad time.

Tony I was fortunate enough to share some good times and learning with you, you will be greatly missed.

Dearest Dad,
You had your own way at looking at life, which was quite unique and so often you would put a different perspective on things.

You gave us space to be creative, with plenty of paper, pens, paint and unorganised free time. Painted walls in the garden for chalk. Zip wires, hand built treehouses, slides…. And a house full of music and instruments, and home-brew! Which was perfected.

So much music will lead me to you, evenings by the fire, talking us through various albums and looking at all the artwork on the covers as we listened. You were light hearted and often found humour in life.
I hold very fond memories of the cheddar blues band, and you had a good following.
They were days to be treasured. You helped many people onto there musical journey, and set up a recording studio in your shed to help them produce an album.

In your studio amongst the array of guitars, sat all your brushes and art equipment.
You had such natural talent more than you ‘d ever take credit for, a very gifted watercolour artist, like your self taught father.

You were such an artistic inspiration to me, and I loved our trips into bath to the art galleries. We would go at sunrise so you could take photos of the rising sun moving and changing across the landscape.
You were as passionate about Photography and art as music.

Another huge part of your life was DIY, You rearranged houses, putting your training as an interior designer into practice.
Always hatching ideas,
Moving the kitchen to the lounge,
Making my bedroom into a bathroom. Spiral handmade staircase. The conservatory that arrived in pieces, which took a summer to paint and put together.
Nothing was ever daunting you just got on with it or found a way to make it work.
You always said to think laterally which you often did,

I’m so glad you’re not in physical discomfort anymore, you were so brave, your stamina fighting cancer years ago and your positive attitude throughout and courage during these last years and particularly in the last 5 months.
With mum right by your side.

Now you’re ‘free as a bird’
On your ‘stairway to heaven’

I Love you so much, I trust you’ll find Henry up there and finish that genesis song ‘Horizon’ together. You will be so missed, and never far away from my thoughts, hope to see you in my dreams. I love you.
Rest well Dad ❤️

Dear Tony

I remember the day I helped you and Ina move to Axbridge. We stopped at the White Hart and had a really good talk over lunch. It sticks in my memory as it was the first time I spoke to you my then father in law one to one. And it only stood to confirm what I by then knew. What a wonderful funny kind and jovial man you were. and ever since Lucy and I married you've been the best father in law I could have ever hoped for. I'm sure you'll keep a watch over everyone. I'll miss you always mate

Dear dad
Thankyou for the years of fun and laughter, you always knew how to make me laugh. Thankyou for being there, being your music library when you needed a certain song to teach a student all those years ago before you got the Apple computer, loving it 1 minute and hating it the next😂. Thankyou for all those rounds of badminton we played together going to Wells leasure Centre in your racing green MG. Thankyou for being kind and generous. Thankyou for doing the tea and biscuits in the morning before school and college. I get a lot of my personality from you. I miss you so much dad, if I could have just one big wish I would wish for you to be still here with us. I smile when I hear a song you used to play in your band, I smile when remembering the time when I had to rescue you from the pub, I found you right near one of the large speakers near the stage in the pub garden where a Beatles tribute band were playing you decided to stay, I danced with you until they finished, I've never forgotten that. I love you and miss you dad.
Rest in peace xx
Lucy xxx

Dear Dadsa

You’ve done so much for us all as a family and achieved so much.

Thanks for all the weekends you patiently looked after us when we were kids, all the crunchy bars, walks with Ben and games you played with us. I’ll forever be in awe of your talent and creativity for turning an average house into a masterpiece (all on your own!) whilst also being the most amazing, naturally gifted artist, guitar player and all round musician. It was so lovely to grow up in such a musical and creative household. I used to love it when you’d come home from work and play a tune on the piano and not so much when you were playing your guitar and not answering my endless questions 😂

I’m so sad that I won’t get to experience these things with you again, but I hold the fondest of memories that I will never forget. You were such a hilarious and unique character and have given us more happiness and good times than you will ever know.

I love you so much and will be eternally grateful for having such an incredible Dad ❤️

Amsa
Xxx

I can’t believe it’s 55 yrs since we met when I was 17 still living at home in Cornwall. You asked me to marry you on the first night of that ‘blind date’ but we waited 5yrs on dad’s orders till I qualified. We went on to have 4 fantastic children & you have been a great dad, though I think Adam changes a few more nappies than you did!
Music has always been a big part of our lives & you have patiently taught many young & not so young to play the guitar.
I will always love you & be very proud of you especially how you coped uncomplainingly with your ill health.
Keep playing that guitar Tony & I’ll keep an eye on our 4 & our growing family & our Peggy, all my love forever
Ina xxxxxx

Dadsa,

Thank you for filling my life with so many happy and funny memories - ones I find myself reflecting on every day. You gave us an endless supply of laughter, and I’m so grateful for that.

When I think back to my childhood, all I remember is laughing with you. Tickling me, cracking jokes, dancing around, doing silly voices and impressions - there was never a serious moment, life was just fun!

As I grew older, through my teens and into adulthood, you were always there, supporting me through every challenge. Now that I’m a parent myself, I truly appreciate the way you guided me - not with pressure or expectation, but with patience, wisdom, and love. You showed me how to find my own way while always making me feel secure and confident in myself. That’s not easy to do as a parent, but you got it just right.

Looking back, playing the drums in your Cheddar Blues Band at the White Hart is still one of the biggest highlights of my life. I felt so privileged that you let me be a part of it - you always had so much faith and belief in me, just as you did in everyone around you. It’s no surprise that so many of your guitar students remember you so fondly, you were patient, encouraging, and made learning feel easy and fun. I’m so grateful we had more regular jam sessions together this past year, and I promise I’ll keep practicing - hopefully, one day, I’ll manage a lead guitar solo even half as good as yours!

I’m incredibly proud of how you handled everything your body threw at you over the last ten years. I still can’t believe how much you had to battle through, but you faced it all with such strength and bravery -and barely complained, which is more than I could’ve managed! I miss you immensely, Dadsa, but I take comfort in knowing you can finally rest, without pain or worry. And I like to think you’re somewhere, playing your guitar as loud as ever.

Love you always,
xxx