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William Frank Kenwood joined 92 Squadron on 28th August 1941 together with fellow RCAF pilots,, P/O Joseph Edmund Tobin Assellin and Sgt William George Pavely. Eddie Assellin became a POW 7 days later as would Frank Kenwood the following year on 26th September 1942
Below is a biography written by Frank’s Daughter, Linda June Pfeiffer and is reproduced here with the permission of the family
WILLIAM FRANK KENWOOD
27 August, 1922 - January 23, 2004
William Frank Kenwood was born at home in Westmount to William Gordon Kenwood and his wife Mary Frank aka Mary Frank Lavender.
His perfect attendance in grade and high school resulted in mere average academic marks, but he excelled in virtually every sport he attempted. His expertise on the “rings” propelled him onto an exhibition gymnastics team that showed all over Montreal to packed houses. He won awards in boxing and diving. He played team sports like football. Although he wanted to play hockey, his coach pronounced him as having weak ankles and asked him to save his energy for other sports. His physical strength stood him well over the years even during times when his weight exceeded the recommended number. He downhill skied well into his sixties and he swam until the day an aorta aneurism ruptured and took his life at eighty-two.
On his eighteenth birthday, August 27th, 1940 he joined the air force. Since Canada did not have their own air force at the time, technically he joined the RAF. He had a great line about this. Anytime he met anyone from the UK, he would say, “When you get back to England, say hello to the Queen for me. I used to work for her father.”
Frank Kenwood’s life in the military and war service is well documented and the keepers of the information are the Canadian Heritage Warplane Museum of Mt. Hope, Ontario (Hamilton, Airport). His children donated his wartime memorabilia, uniform, Nazi souvenirs, and hundreds of documents from the day he joined up until his liberation from POW camp and eventual return to England and then release in Canada. The hope is that Mt. Hope will be home to a permanent display of this time capsule from 1940-45 of one man’s experience in World War II that many people, including young students will have the privilege of seeing and studying forever.
In June, 1941, Frank met another 18 year old. Her name was Winifred Woods and she was a WAF in the RAF. She was a radio operator and she guided his Spitfire in for landing on the darkened air strips many nights as he returned from his sorties. After receiving a pass to spend Christmas in Blackburn, Lancashire with the Woods family, he asked her father, Stanley for her hand in marriage. The wedding took place at a Registrar’s office on January 3, 1942. Their honeymoon was spent in an old windmill. Those romantic times were short lived and he was transferred to North Africa, June, 1942. He was shot down in September 1942 and was imprisoned by the Germans until May, 1945 when the British army liberated his prison camp Stalag 8B.
He spent a few weeks in England before being shipped back to Canada.
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He began working for Kenwood’s Westmount Transfer and Storage Ltd, which was his father’s company after his return from the war. He started at the bottom as a truck driver and worked his way into an office job. His wife, Winifred joined him in Canada after arriving in St. John, New Brunswick on a Norwegian ship carrying mostly war brides and their children in January, 1946. She took the train to Montreal and was greeted by her husband other members of his family. He had been living at home in Westmount with his father and mother and Wyn joined the household. This arrangement on the surface seemed fine, but Wyn overheard her father-in-law complaining to his wife about the size of the soap left in the bathroom tub. Apparently it was too small. The blame was assigned to Frank and his new bride. As soon as Frank’s back pay arrived from his stay in the German Prison Camp, they bought a house on Victoria Avenue in Westmount and fled his parent’s house on Elm Avenue. His father’s generosity was legendary but his patience short. Gordon and Mary had filled a cedar chest with linens and blankets and bought a trousseau for Wyn including a lamb’s wool coat and threw a lavish reception for Frank and Wyn at a prestigious club in Montreal, but a used up cake of soap caused the house of cards to collapse.
In July, 1947 the first of four children was born to Frank and Wyn. She was named Sharon Joyce, Sharon after a pilot buddy of Frank’s, Mush Sharon, and both Frank and Wyn had sisters named Joyce. Eighteen months later, Linda June was born March 13, 1949 which was the day before Mary Kenwood, her Grandmother’s birthday. Her first name was picked from the air, just something her parents liked, and her second name June was the month Wyn was born. In August, 1953, Sandra Wynne was born. Again her first name was picked because they liked it, and her middle name was after her mother. One year and three days later in August, 1954, the only male, William Stanley, known as Bill or Billie today was born. He was named in the Kenwood tradition of William for his Kenwood Grandfather and Stanley for his Woods Grandfather. Unlike the Kenwood tradition of using his second name as his everyday name, he became Billie. Also now that Wyn had produced a male heir she was relieved of child bearing duties and became what is now referred to as the primary care giver. Her children just called her Mom.
Frank’s father died suddenly of an aneurism in 1953. As the eldest son, Frank became President of Kenwood’s Westmount Transfer and Storage Ltd. and he and his two brothers took over the day to day running of the business. After the war, the fifties and sixties were prosperous times for many enterprises and Kenwood’s was no different. Having planned a major move to what was then known as the “Terminal”, in St. Laurent, in the mid 60's the name of the business was change to Kenwood’s Moving & Storage Ltd. A new advertising campaign was started and the slogan “Kenwood’s Care”, came into popular usage. Television ads showed a burly mover coming up the path leading to a cozy house with a basket of kittens. A sentimental tune was playing in the background as the new owners of the house opened the door and reclaimed their pets. Business was good. Kenwood’s Moving had an excellent reputation for quality and caring during the trauma of moving. One out of every four Canadian families moved every year, sometimes locally but often across the country. Business was booming in most industries and in
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order to get ahead, executives had to accept transfers in their jobs. The Kenwood family was in the right business at the right time. Frank and Wyn and their family prospered along with the trend. This trend lasted most of Frank’s working life until the mid 1980's.
During those forty years, Frank involved himself in every aspect of his community. He was the youngest person to hold the title of President of the Westmount Rotary Club. He received the Paul Harris Fellowship Award for his contribution to charitable causes. Through the Rotary Club, he helped Hungarian Refugees start their lives in Canada after the revolution in 1956. He found them housing and supplied food and clothing for their children. He helped them gain employment or work in their craft. He took part in charity drives. He sold raffle tickets and worked at the carnivals in support of the Unity Boys Club. He sat on many boards, but closest to his heart were the Boy Scouts of Canada. He was a Governor of the Montreal General Hospital.
He accepted and sat on many boards concerning the moving business, including the Traffic Club, CETI and FIDI and the Warehousemen’s Association. He attended at least one convention a year either in North America or Europe related to his business. He spoke at many banquets and meetings as the guest speaker. One of those dinners was for the Women’s Traffic Club to which his daughter Linda belonged. She had just been named a Director and asked him to speak to the women concerning the moving business. When he rose to speak at the head table, he opened with a joke. The women laughed. So he continued for another five minutes of jokes. The women continued to laugh. He spoke for two minutes about the moving industry and then told some more jokes. At the end of his twenty minutes he was presented with a gift from the women and was told he was the best speaker they ever had. Incredibly he had charmed the entire room of women and never bored them with much information about the moving business.
That was the dichotomy of Frank Kenwood. He could be the most charming and delightful human being you would ever meet in one breath, and angry and terrifying in the next. Many of his employees would tell you that he would ream them out in the morning and cheerily say hello in the afternoon as if it had never happened. Most say he never carried a grudge and that he was totally fair. He treated his children this way as well as his wife.
In those years he had a razor sharp wit and intelligence that made him one of the boys. He loved beautiful women and would flirt, but God help any man who flirted with his wife. He was extremely jealous and possessive of her. He was an authoritarian with strict rules but nobody had more fun than he did when he was relaxed like at Christmas or skiing with his kids or taking them to the YMCA to go swimming on a Friday night or playing in a kiddy pool in the backyard. This was a person with two personalities The boy who left for the war in 1941 and the man who came back from Prison of War camp in 1945. Shades of the boy sometimes did appear but perhaps only to certain people at certain times. The man was usually present.
As he got older his memories of that horrible time increased. After the death of his wife he was better able to talk about it and he confided in his older children. He either
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stopped blocking those times or he was unable to block them. Once back in the 1960s, Wyn was frying bacon on a Sunday morning. She must have let it burn and the smell wafted upstairs to where Frank was dressing for breakfast. He tore down the stairs, screaming at the top of his lungs, saying that it smelled like burning flesh. He was wild. He was unhinged. He, then nearly sobbing, said it smelled like the wagons of dead bodies he saw go by the prison camp fence which had come from a nearby concentration camp he supposed. This is the only time one of his children saw and heard him having an episode of what is now known as post traumatic stress. Although he suffered with insomnia whenever he stayed any place other than his own home which probably was another symptom. Another time he left for a fishing trip with some men friends and returned in less than 24 hours because the fishing camp cabin was so reminiscent of his prison camp barracks. He couldn’t sleep and had flash backs. None of these episodes were known outside the immediate family and he never spoke about them.
Frank Kenwood was an admirable man and when his company collapsed under the weight of rapid expansion with too little capital and the inability to modernize, he was devastated. Kenwood’s Moving and Storage Ltd., was sold in the mid 1980's and although the name exists today, the company is not owned or operated by any Kenwood relatives. Thus ended a golden age for the business and began a life of retirement for Frank and Wyn.
Frank had scrimped and saved all his life. He didn’t believe in credit and used his cards sparingly. He gave his wife cash for her weekly house keeping money and loathed receiving unexpected bills. Wyn was required to tell him before she bought anything on credit. He paid cash for big ticket items like a car or appliance or new furniture. If someone in the family complained that they didn’t have something that the neighbours had, he would suggest that the neighbours lived on credit and he refused to do that. When he retired he owned his home in Canada and a condominium in Ft. Myers, Florida where he and Wyn had vacationed for about ten years. Wyn loved the Florida sunshine and hated the Canadian winters. So in a compromise, Frank drove her to Florida in her car shortly after New Years, and he joined her for a month’s vacation in March while he was still working. He was happy to ski on the weekends by himself . After retirement, they left in early November and returned in late April or early May.
Golf became Wyn’s passion and playing Bridge became Frank’s. They joined a golf club where they met new friends and could indulge in their interests. Life for them was very full until tragedy struck on Mother’s Day, 1989 when Wyn died suddenly from a massive heart attack. They had just returned from their six months in Florida the week before. The children and their spouses arrived from different corners of Canada. Sharon and Sandra came from Burlington, Ontario. Linda lived outside of Halifax, Nova Scotia and Bill was still in Montreal. Wyn and Frank had been married 47 years.
In the fifteen years left to Frank, he continued to travel to Florida each November right after he marched in the Remembrance Day Parade in Hudson, Quebec. He continued to play a lousy game of golf. He never mastered that sport. His interest in bridge switched from contract bridge to duplicate and he began to collect Master Points. He took pride seeing his name in
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The Hudson Gazette if he and his partner came first or second and collected his points. He met and dated many women. He not so secretly compared them all to Wyn. He never remarried, but he retained the same partner, Martha, for the last seven years of his life, a woman he met in Florida. He kept his condo in Ft. Myers and she kept her condo too, but they dined and golfed and played bridge together. She visited him for a couple of months each summer in Hudson as well. The night he was struck with the aneurism he had been playing bridge at his country club with her. The doctors operated that night, but he died a week later of complications.
William Frank Kenwood’s legacy will be his children and their children like most men. Unlike most ordinary, hardworking men, he will also leave a time capsule of a five year period in his life during a terrible war which elevated him from ordinary to heroic and from hardworking to stoic. He would not have expected this but he would have been very proud to know his own history has been preserved in the same museum which houses a Spitfire airplane like the one he flew when he went off to fight a war in a foreign country. If he had not joined up, he never would have met the woman who bore him four children and with whom he spent nearly half a century. History is the continual occurrence of small events.
Bio - by Linda June (Kenwood) Pfeiffer
