I learned a couple of days ago that my neighbour Ted Mercer was buried last week. I was deeply shocked as I didn't know that Ted had died. I knew he was ill because he was in hospital, on the same ward as me, when I had my gall bladder problems earlier this year.
Ted was more than just an old man who lived a few doors away though, he was Lancaster Bomber pilot in 44 Squadron during World War Two. He was also a decorated hero - as Flying Office E. Mercer he was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross in February 1944. After the war he flew commercially as an airline captain, including a spell flying Boeing 720 jets in remote parts of Africa - a really "hot ship" as Ted called them. As a former pilot I was always happy to talk about flying with Ted and he had some great stories. He had four daughters, lived a full life into his eighties and seemed remarkably happy and upbeat right up until I last saw him shortly before his death - despite his obvious medical problems. I always found it odd and slightly uncomfortable to see Ted going around the village on his little electric wheelchair/scooter, a real comedown from the big aircraft he used to fly, but Ted was happy to be out and about on it and would stop to talk with everyone. Cheddar village is now a little emptier without Ted Mercer. I shall miss him.
