Timothy Duckworth was born on the 7th July 1937. seven years later, Britain and Europe were in the thick of a cruel and savage war. Timothy was a child without fear, blessed with an innocent courage and confidence.Timothy was fortunate to have been raised in a loving home created by his devoted hard working parents.

Esther Duckworth, 29 years of age, was a beautiful woman with long auburn hair tied neatly back with a pink ribbon. She had first met her future husband when she started at the local Village primary school, even then she knew in her heart she would marry him one day. The marriage eventually happened 10 years ago in the Parish church, three years later Esther gave birth to a healthy 9lb baby boy, and they named him Timothy Jack Duckworth. Esther's mother, Mary Lovejoy, looked after Timothy so Esther could retain her job as a local bank clerk. Esther and her husband's wage helped them to save enough money for a deposit on a small terrace house at number 47 Harwerth Road, Rishton Lancashire.

Esther took great pride in her appearance as she did with her small terrace house.Timothy's mother was a spiritual and sensitive woman with a passion for nature & all species of animal and plant life. Though not a regular church goer, she did make time to meditate with long walks in a forest, sometimes sitting on the hills of Pendle, or strolling into a field of wheat or corn, where she would find a spot to lie down studying the moving clouds sailing overhead. She read many books on alternative religions, philosophies and occult magic. what she learned she passed onto Timothy, enabling him to appreciate the beauty and wonder of nature and to be sensitive to the every day elements of all life forms. Yet, she also possessed a warm & wonderful sense of humour, her smile could light up a room.Her unique beauty was apparent to all who were fortunate to know her. But, most of all, her love for young Timothy, her only child shone as bright as any star in the universe.

Timothy's dad, Jack Duckworth, was a tall muscular  man with a thick dollop of  black wavy hair, an unshaven face and ice blue eyes .People who did not know Jack saw him as a giant, a man not to cross, a man to treat with respect. Timothy was proud of his dad, of his tough reputation, but he also knew the tough image was far from the real dad that he worshipped.  Timothy's dad was a poet, an artist, a musician, a story teller, and a gentle man. He was many things to Timothy, more than any little boy could ever wish for in a dad.

Six days a week after a long 12 hour shift at the local Rishton Cotton Mill,Jack  returned home exactly at 6 p.m, dirty in his work clothes and very  tired but he still could muster up enough  energy and time to play with Timothy for a few minutes. Then he would stride into the kitchen, and gently wrap his huge arms around the slender waist of his small pretty wife Esther, kiss her and tell her he loved her.Once Jack had washed and changed out of his overalls, the Duckworth family  would sit down to their tea of boiled bacon and potatoes. bread and butter.During each meal laughter was always in abundance. Timothy so loved his beautiful parents and they so loved him.