Coast to Coast in memory of a Special Friend and Son

Over three years ago I came face to face with a  big, gentle smile when I met Jon at a Brain Tumour Support Meeting. Jon aspired to travel to the most northerly, southerly, easterly and westerly points in the UK. He managed a trip towards the east but was too ill to travel any further.

In September last year my cousin Tim and a team of cyclists secured Jon's photo to the front of his bike and took him from Lands end to John O’Groats raising money for The Get Ahead and The Brain Tumour Charities.

This June Jon’s parents Jacky and Roy undertook a Thousand Mile Coast to Coast Commemorative Caravan Journey and Expedition - Remembering Jon two years on.
Jacky shares her memories of this momentous journey:

“Never before have I worn the same tee-shirt for so long!


We planned to take our Jon on a journey right across the country, carrying him in our hearts, and his photos on our windows, fulfilling an ambition that he was unable to realise. We told his story at every stop, and promoted the work of ‘The Brain Tumour Charity’ from Lowestoft, the Eastern most point of the UK, to St. David’s in West Wales.

Roy and I pulled on the ‘Brain Tumour Charity bright red tees as we approached each caravan site. We were ‘The Charity people’. If any doubt remained we soon put paid to that as we decorated our caravan with banners, balloons and bunting!

At the start we released 26 red balloons which were carried off by a brisk southerly wind at Ness Point. This marked the start of our adventure, the first emotional moment of many along our way.

People, seeing our posters, came to share their stories of loss; a grandchild, a mother, a son in law, a sister. People touched by love and loss. We felt humbled to be invited into their sorrow, and honoured to be able to tell of our precious boy.



The donations amazed us. Even during the evening people knocked on our caravan door with money; generous, warm people, yet total strangers, dipping deep in pockets to fill our collecting box.

But some people averted their eyes, looked to the ground, not wanting to get involved with ‘The Charity people’


We arrived at our final destination of St. David’s to a wonderful welcome. A collecting jar, and cut -out from the ‘Caravan Club’ magazine was already in place on the counter. We received a warm, sunny reception, despite our weariness after 1000 miles. We are proud to have achieved our objective-for Jon.


We were delighted to be able to send over £1200 to the Brain Tumour Charity, where we have set up a fund in Jon’s name”:

The Brain Tumour Charity-Jon Fredrickson Fund. To donate visit https://www.justgiving.com/Jacky-Fredrickson1/

Or Text JONF85 £3 to 70070 (or other amount!) 

Flying away from it all

The holiday season will be upon us and people moaning about the weather will be history! As soon as I tick a destination off my list another ten appear....Travel is embedded in my genes....

Even with all my travel experience, I could never have prepared for the onslaught of flying disabled style... I assumed it would be easy..but you know what assume did..it made an Ass out of U and Me...

Getting to the airport is the easy bit...I am in control...Like a dried up meal I pre order Disabled Assistance. At check in I hand over my suitcase... my sense of control and sanity swiftly follow ...

The first hurdle is to get through the stares at the assistance desk, the mouth says Can I help you but the eyes say You need assistance??? ..my fatigue and medical history are not printed on my face...maybe I should forget the make up so I look pale, get a tattoo or wear a T.Shirt with Mines a Brain Tumour... What's your Excuse!

Settled in a wheelchair the second hurdle...the Xray machine... is in sight...I pre warn them about the plate in my head....and even have a letter from my Consultant.....but we play the same game every time...
Them: Can you walk through without your stick? 
Me: Yes but the scanner will go off I promise you...Beeepppp
Them Can you walk through again...Beeeeeppppppp
Them; Hold out your arms I will run the scanner over you..beep, beep, beep
Them: Can you take your shoes off
Me  If you find me a chair,  I need to sit...
Them: Oh don't worry we will swab them... (for what MRSA!!)
Them; Hold onto the glass screen here and lift your feet so we can see the soles of your shoes.
Me:  I can't lift my left foot
Them: Just try...!!!!
Me...Like a novice ballerina trying to do backward plies I fail to lift my foot ...Mr H watches patiently from the sidelines, we share a grimace
Them; OK thank you.....Our session of public humiliation is complete

Back in the wheelchair the third hurdle is waiting by the sign saying Assistance...anxious that a slow dash to the loo will mean I will miss my turn...manic panic surrounds us....our flight is called but we wait....and wait.... At the gate we discover that able passengers are being loaded first..mmmmm

When we land The Wheelchairs ...have to wait till last...I have never been called a Wheelchair before..........'The Wheelchairs' are offloaded like cattle...kept waiting mid air in a metal shed ...an occasional smiling groundsman snaps the tension which builds.

On Terra Firma as one of 'The wheelchairs' I am separated from Mr H...not enough room on the minibus...

I no longer worry, passport in hand, I know at some stage I will pop out like a missing horse by the carousels....and the holiday for me...will begin