Jerome Conway

Jerome Michael Conway

A eulogy given by his brother, Peter

Life Story

Jerome was born on 20 September 1954 in Calcutta. He was Mum and Dad’s first child of ten, so from the start he carried the responsibility — and no doubt the blame — for setting examples, both good and bad, for the rest of us.

As a little boy in India, Jerome had the kind of childhood stories that sound almost unreal now: an ayah who helped Mum and Dad look after him, days out for picnics, and trips to the zoo where he could even ride an elephant. He would have known the bustle of Calcutta streets, the heat and monsoon rains, the sounds of trams and street vendors, and the simple pleasures of playing outside, sharing sweets, and being fussed over as the first child in the family. And already he had a strong sense of who he was. At nursery, when a teacher called him Jerry, he apparently replied, “My name is Jerome Michael Conway.” Typical Jerome — correcting the teachers in his first week at school.

My parents had 2 more children, both girls Leslie and Gail, in India. Then in July 1958, as life changed for many Anglo-Indian families after independence, Mum and Dad decided to move to England. The family arrived after three rough weeks at sea and settled first with Auntie Hazel in Hornsey, before moving to Enfield.

I won’t go through every birth, marriage and christening connected to Jerome, otherwise we really could be here all week.

He went to St George’s Primary School in Enfield, followed over the years by all nine of us.

All of us had the odd injury, some more painful than others. When Jerome was about 10, while helping Dad dig the garden: he somehow mistimed it and put a garden fork right through his foot. No sport for weeks — which for Jerome probably felt worse than the injury itself.

Sport was always a big part of Jerome’s life. He was a talented footballer, played for school and Sunday league, and even had a trial for QPR. He also played table tennis and tennis to a high standard, winning league and tournament titles along the way.

One proud memory is going to the old Enfield Town stadium to watch him play in a county football final, which his team won 2–1. It was a special day for all of us, especially Dad.

When Mum and Dad were away, the older children were in charge, which usually meant Jerome was in charge of the practical jokes. We played mum and dad’s old 45s and LPs, and he would let us stay up late, and watch The Prisoner and The Twilight Zone. He did once give me a bloody nose — although, to be fair, I’m sure I deserved it.

Jerome was bright and practical. After school he studied electrical engineering, spent a year doing architecture in Brighton, and later worked at the London Rubber Company. One of his favourite stories from there was to place new staff near the rubber glove machine, without telling them what it was. The hands were pointing upwards, so as they rose up out of the rubber solution it would make the staff jump out of their skin.

Jerome met Tracey through family connections, and they married in March 1980, she also had 9 brothers and sisters. Their daughters Leah, Anna and Lesley Jayne became a huge part of his life, and later his seven grandchildren brought him even more joy.

Wherever Jerome lived, his home seemed to double as a workshop. There was always sanding, prepping, fixing, improving and getting ready for spraying — and usually someone being asked to help carry far too much wood up far too many stairs. He worked at our cousin Ron’s polyester factory in Tottenham, spraying and polishing everything from Steinway concert grand pianos to roulette wheels and guitars. Most of the brothers worked with him there at some point, earning extra cash during school or college holidays. It was messy, hard work, but Jerome always seemed to know what he was doing.

He was like our Dad in many ways: always active, always with several projects on the go, rarely sitting still for long. He would visit Mum and Dad’s, bring goodies from Janeman’s, borrow tools, and somehow recruit one of us to help in his latest DIY job.

Jerome started working self-employed at Woodcraft spraying and preparing kitchen cabinets and panels for the sunseeker boats. He also worked on the panels for the inside of a boat for a James Bond movie and Steinway piano repairs at the Harrod’s store.

He was always very present for his family. He kept up weekly curry nights, Wednesday swimming trips with the girls, and later regular visits with Greggs coffee, doughnuts, sausage and ham rolls which his girls and the grandchildren would happily fight over. And of course there was the familiar Jerome routine: falling asleep on the sofa, taking over the television at full volume, and then complaining that everyone else was being too loud.

Eden, our brother, mentioned when Jerome regularly played catch with the children, quite literally. While we are on that subject, “Sorry Tracey, but Jerome was egging me on at the time.”

In the 1990s Jerome lived in Ware with Helen. He joined Ware Running Club, ran three London Marathons and even completed an Ironman. Sadly, Helen died of cancer in 1996, but Jerome carried on with the resilience and stubbornness we all recognised in him.

In 1997, Jerome was introduced to Penny, by family friends and they married in 2011. He enjoyed some happy times as stepfather to her children, now part of the wider family.

In 2016 he had his hip replaced and did get back to tennis and table tennis relatively quickly.

Later Years

In 2019, Jerome moved into Homeleigh Court and took on a huge role looking after Mum. The rest of us helped when we could, but knowing he was there gave us real peace of mind. He and Mum would argue like husband and wife, but he kept her on her feet — often by insisting she cook his meals as well as her own, or make tea and coffee when we visited.

After retiring in 2021, Jerome didn’t really stop. He still did some work for his good friend Enzo, and did some volunteer DIY at a dementia centre in North London. He continued playing tennis and table tennis to a high level.

Closing

Jerome went into hospital in late March this year, and we want to thank everyone who visited him, supported his girls, helped with children, ferried family and friends to and from the hospital at all hours.

Tracey, you should be so proud of your girls. They were strong, devoted, and refused to leave him right until the end. Thank you, girls, for looking after him. I will forever call you Jerome’s Fighting Angels, and remember “..and you thought Maths was difficult”.

We are also grateful to everyone from his clubs and associations for the many kind thoughts, words and donations received for The National Brain Appeal since he passed.

Jerome, being relatively fit for 71 and as stubborn as ever, kept going after the ventilator was removed. He died on 27 April 2026, 39 years to the day our Dad died — so maybe, in his own way, he was waiting.

I think his great-nephew Harrison speaks for all Jerome’s grandchildren, great-nephews and great-nieces when he says:

“Jerome was the funny uncle. He pulls my nose off, plays with me and makes me laugh.”