The ‘story of my birth’
My dad, Stan Pearsall, was a very talented Disney animator for the offshoot division Animaland under GB Animation, part of the Rank Organisation. One of his cartoons, as senior animator can be seen on YouTube.
He penned and illustrated this charming poem, which is more truth than fiction concerning the circumstances of my birth (25th June 1947). The words are:
“This is the story of Joan and the pud
Who lived on a boat when Thames were in flood
She mixed up a batter and opened up oven
And being a big one with pushing and shovin’
She rammed it inside and switched on the heat
Then crawled back to bed – she was feeling quite beat
This was at two, I forgot to mention
And though she worked with every intention
Ain’t I a bonnie lass?
When bed time arrived we got it at last!
She opened up oven and to her surprise
The pud were so big, t’were a sight for sore eyes
She levered it up as best she were able
And when it was out, t’were bigger than table!
Then up sprung a blizzard and water went wild
And thinking of peril for Joan and wee child
I frantic’ly looked for a boat but t’were none.
Things looked bloody black and we thought we were done.
Then suddenly smote with a wondrous idea…
Lifting up Yorkshire said, “Nothing to fear!
Just sit next to me when I put it in water –
Pearsall Coat of Arms
I’ll row pud to bank and save thee and thee daughter!”
Now all safe and sound we’re living on shore
Joan gave birth to lass, and I’ll tell you what’s more:
The pud that got wet when put into water
Is wetter inside now it’s used by m’daughter
To sleep in at night – as a cradle it’s good –
But what-a-to-do with a girl and a pud!
At around 18 months
Animator of Ginger Nutt. at Moor Hall
David Dodd Hand, director of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, the first full length animated feature film (1937)
At my baptism, David Hand became my godfather.
My baptism certificate
My mum, Joan (now Fletcher) was his secretary. It was while working for David that she met my dad in 1946.
It was also during this time that I showed promise as an artist, or so my artist daddy thought (hoped?)!
Here is a sample of such efforts:
I drew, daddy captioned:
Can you see what I see old boy?
to be continued . . .