Anne Stacey (Wood)

MARRIAGE RECORD: "South Africa, Natal Province, Civil Marriages, 1845-1955." Database with images. FamilySearch. http://FamilySearch.org : accessed 2022; National Archives and Records Service of South Africa, Pretoria.
Written by her niece, Penelope (Vincent) Maeder:

Annie Elna Wood was born to Lex and Annie on the 15th July 1909. She grew to be the tallest of her sisters, had blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair. Anne completed her education at Rustenberg Girls’ School in Rondebosch, Cape Town. This departure was because her sisters Natalie and Merlyn were both completing their studies at the University of Cape Town. From conversations it would seem that they lived in digs in Rosebank and not in a formal University or School hostel. Anne seldom spoke of these days and perhaps that was because she was confined by the rigours of school and was not involved in the comings and goings of her older sisters. Although not as adept a musician as her sisters she acquitted herself more than adequately on the piano. In true Wood vein she was both a participant and keen supporter of sport. All her sister had chosen both music and teaching as careers but Anne opted to follow in her mother’s footsteps and become a nurse. Her mother had trained at Grey’s Hospital in Pietermaritzburg, but Anne opted to do her training at Addington Hospital in Durban. Fortunately her mother’s younger sister, Prim (Mrs Sidney Copland) lived in Durban so that family life was not totally left behind. I gather that she spent many of her days-off visiting her Aunt. Nursing in those days meant very long hours with little time off for a measly pittance of a shilling a day, admittedly all found.

Nevertheless Anne really enjoyed her chosen career and made many long lasting friendships. It must have been through her keen interest in sport, particularly as a spectator, that she met Frederick Henry (Harry) Stacey, then playing Rugby for Natal. They were married in Durban in January 1933. Although I was her flowergirl what I most remember about this occasion is the journey to Durban on appallingly muddy roads. The family travelled in a convoy of motor cars with frequent picnic tea stops to cool the engines. Water was running in sluits down the side of the road and much slipping and sliding took place as we traversed the steep Transkei hills. I also remember our stay at the Bencorum Hotel in Prince Street, near Addington Hospital. I distinctly remember that breakfast was always al fresco on a vine covered patio and started with slices of Paw-paw onto which we heaped masses of sugar before squeezing on lemon juice. My cocky and ever garrulous little brother, Lex, marched up and down holding forth to the fascination of the cummerbunded, Fez wearing Indian waiters. I don’t recollect that Anne worked after her marriage, after all it was not the norm and she probably honed her housekeeping skills instead. At least once a year they would visit the family in the Transkei. This was a real trial for Harry for he was used to the modern conveniences of city living. He bore the deprivation with reasonable goodwill but somehow tended to intimidate some of the family with his quirky, comparatively sophisticated, and at times seemingly snide, witticisms. Once they had his measure they tended to give him as good as he gave. It was Anne’s arrival in East London from Durban in a Junkers of the SAA of the day to visit and assist with the nursing of her dying mother that introduced me aircraft. As you can imagine, in 1937, flying around the country was not a very usual undertaking. Virtually the entire family, certainly all of the children, converged to meet her at Collondale Airfield in East London. No such thing as airport security let alone tarmac runways in those days. We all swarmed onto the grassy runway and closely inspected the huge bird. Anne’s baggage was removed from an opening, not unlike those in tour busses, and handed to her by the pilot. By now we children were at the rear of the aircraft when suddenly the pilot started up the engines and started to taxi down the field. The three propellers on the Junkers stirred a huge dust and dry grass storm which threatened to asphyxiate us. I was terrified, virtually hysterical with fear from both the noise and dust. This experience had a long lasting affect on me for I developed a positive phobia about both aircraft and flying. That Anne had looked relaxed and totally at ease with the experience failed to remove the fear. I think this may well have been Anne’s first flight. I finally overcame my fear when the lack of time to get there forced me to fly to my mother’s funeral in Idutywa. One of Anne’s great disappointments was that she seemed unable to carry her pregnancies to term. You can imagine her joy when she finally overcame the problem, largely by virtually staying in bed for the duration, and the first of the two Stacey children arrived in 1940.

Anne was widowed when Harry suffered a heart attack in Cape Town during a meeting of the Chambers of Commerce of which he was due to become the chief executive. He died a few days later in hospital under the care of his old rugby friend Dr Louis Babrow. Ted and I were pleased to repay some of her many kindnesses extended to us when we lived in Durban by being with her at this anxious, then sad time. By then the family had moved to a large house in Montague Place in Durban North and Anne found that Harry had not left her particularly well provided for. It must have been very difficult to adjust from an apparent life of luxury to having to make ends meet. Natalie then moved in with her to both keep her company and assist in a more practical way with her teaching income. Anne also found that widowhood meant that many of the people she had thought to be firm friends now deserted her for she had become a threat, a possible ‘the other woman’ in their lives. This saddened her for she had really enjoyed their weekly card games and other social activities. Ultimately Anne opted to sell her home. She then took a job as Matron of the Home and Frail Care Centre for Retired Nurses. In Durban Whenever I visited her there she seemed both happy and contented in her work, in fact really enjoyed again being involved in caring and nursing. By then both Clive and Barbara had left home and working gave her a sense of purpose and ensured that she was not lonely.

Life had dealt Anne many hard knocks but the worst was Barbara’s untimely death. Anne was both devastated and distraught and would have had a breakdown were it not that she was now desperately needed by her grandchildren and son-in-law. Anne, either then or previously, had acquired an apartment in Povall Road, Durban. This ensured that she was always available in times of crisis. Being a grandmother brought her great joy. Anne was pleased that she was able to offer a home to Elizabeth when she started studying at the Technikon for a daily commute from Umhlali was virtually impossible. During a Christmas visit to Gonubie to be with her sisters Natalie and Merlyn, they became quite concerned because Anne kept nodding off. Anne had not always been robust for she had problems with varicose ulcers and various skin conditions. Through all her previous ailments she had remained bright and cheerful so her apathy really bothered them. When Anne arrived home she visited her doctor for the promised check-up. One cannot help but wonder how she felt when she was diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer. Anne, at that time, was either visiting or living with Clive and Jenny in Johannesburg, or on hearing the news Clive insisted that she live with them. Anne spent the last months of her life in the Johannesburg Home for Retired Nurses. On our way home from our first visit to Britain Ted and I deliberately arranged a return flight via Johannesburg so that we could go and visit Anne. Clive very kindly picked us up from the airport and took us to the Nursing Home. Except for the fact that she had nasal tubes feeding her a constant supply of oxygen she looked her usual self. As usual she was concerned about the welfare of our children and was full of sage advice. Although she must have known that her time was limited she was in good spirits. Anne still had a good colour, did not appear wasted in any way and I have always been amazed that someone who still looked pretty good should have died barely a month later on the 4th July 1985, Clive’s 45th birthday. Whilst her passing saddened us all we were grateful that she was spared months of agony.