GranTheArchivist

My grandparents knew each other from their school days, he courted her and proposed to her before moving to England in May 1955.

He settled in Peckham , and eventually moved to Doncaster, South Yorkshire.

Once he had found a permanent home and job my grandmother came to join him in September 1956.

They were the first black couple to get married in St Peter's Parish Church on 3rd March 1957.

Together they had four children, Steve, Pete, Anthea and Dionne. 11 grandchildren; Marcus, Ashley, Issac, Aaron, Matthew, Jack, Dean, Kyle, Luke, Noah and Charlotte. 8 great grandchildren, Misha, Arya, Nahla, Rí, Jada, Teddi, Castiel and Isabella.

They have built a beautiful life in Doncaster and their legacy continues through their children, grandchildren and great grandchildren

Losing the man of our family was the most profound loss we’ve ever faced. The grief that followed was heavy , touching each of us deeply, especially my grandmother. She had spent over sixty years by his side, building a life rooted in love, partnership, and shared memories. Their bond was the foundation of our family, and his absence left a silence that echoed through every room of her home.

He passed away in 2019, after over a year of suffering. We gave him a true the Jamaican send off he deserved.

A beautiful church service, a traditional Caribbean burial where we fill the graves ourselves, and a true celebration of his life at his favourite working mens club. We ate, drank and danced in his memory.

The man of our family.

The man that made the possibility of the Williams family existing in the UK today exist.

The man that supported all of his children, and grandchildren's dreams.

My brother [Noah Gill] as a baby.

The busy entrance to my grandmother's house.

To some, it might seem like clutter . Some might even call it hoarding. But for my grandmother, and for the rest of our family, every single object holds meaning. Each photo, each tiny statue, and even the most random looking item is tied to a memory.

Her home is a living archive of our shared history, a place where decades of stories have unfolded.

These objects aren’t just decorations; they’ve witnessed birthdays, reunions, quiet evenings, and loud laughter.

My grandmother's photo wall is constantly evolving with us.

Grandma and grandads living room.

Growing up I remember we would constantly be having family reunions, parties, and gatherings in this room.

Christenings were always a happy event within our family.

The ceremony includes prayers, hymns, and scripture readings, and parents and godparents publicly commit to guiding the child’s spiritual upbringing.

Godparents are highly respected figures in Jamaican families. Chosen for their moral character and close bond with the parents, they are expected to play a lasting role in the childs life.

Big soup.

Traditionally cooked on a Saturday, this dish has always been a great way to feed large families. I’ll always remember my grandmother preparing it, and later, my mother cooking it whenever she craved the comfort of a homemade, traditional meal.

The London Marathon 2025.

In 2023, the Marathon had less than 2% representation of black athletes, they have strived to increase this number immensely the past few years. For Hamid Vaghefian, head of community engagement at London Marathon, this figure was not enough. He intended to ensure that the Marathon reflected British society.

I’m sharing this to highlight the incredible role my cousin, Marcus Williams, has played not only in promoting diversity within major events like the London Marathon, but also in the inspiring journey he’s taken alongside Robin Barayuga.

Robin, who is completely blind, approached Marcus with a dream: to run the London Marathon in support of Victa, a charity dedicated to empowering young people with visual impairments. Starting from square one, Marcus helped Robin train relentlessly for months. Marcus often speaks of Robin’s extraordinary mental strength and determination, calling it nothing short of inspiring.

“Crossing the finish line was amazing. As an ex-professional footballer, I’ve performed on big stages but the feeling I got from the Marathon was on another level,” Marcus said.

He described the entire experience as magical not just because of the race, but because of the overwhelming support Robin received. Family flew in from around the world, and countless strangers along the route cheered him on. It was a powerful reminder of what community and perseverance can achieve.

I felt compelled to share this story, straight from Marcus, as a celebration of resilience, inclusion, and the power of human spirit.

Well done Marcus and Robin!

My first Nottinghill Carnival!

The Notting Hill Carnival is a vibrant celebration of Caribbean cultures, attracting millions of people every year.

Rooted in the Windrush generation, Carnival has been celebrated since 1966. By the 1970s, Caribbean masquerade traditions brought the stunning costumes, while the sounds of soca, calypso, dub, and reggae gave Carnival its unmistakable energy.

Back in the 1950s, Notting Hill was a poor area with overcrowded housing, home to one of London’s largest Black communities. Despite facing racism, job discrimination, and violence, the community fought back with marches, graffiti, and public meetings.

In 1959, activist and editor Claudia Jones organised the first Caribbean carnival at St Pancras Town Hall. Inspired by Trinidad’s festivities — but adapted to Britain’s cold winter — it brought music, culture, and unity indoors.

Then, in 1966, local social worker Rhaune Laslett, moved by a dream of colourful crowds filling the streets, organised a community festival in Notting Hill. Though not of Caribbean heritage herself, she invited Trinidadian musician Russell Henderson and his steel band to perform. As their music echoed through the streets, Caribbean residents joined the parade — and the Notting Hill Carnival as we know it was born.

To read more about it this article is incredibly insightful.