Raymond Dennis KNIBBS, son of Joseph Dennis KNIBBS and Florence PALMERFIELD , was born 05 May 1932 in Erdington, Birmingham, Warwickshire, England. He died 13 April 2010 in Derby, Derbyshire, England. Marian J HARDY was born Private.


Children of Raymond Dennis KNIBBS and Marian J HARDY are:
1. Margaret Julie KNIBBS, b. Private See Charles A RELF & Margaret Julie KNIBBS
2. Catherine Elizabeth KNIBBS, b. Private See Howard Edward GARNER & Catherine Elizabeth KNIBBS
3. Michael Timothy KNIBBS, b. Private See Michael Timothy KNIBBS & Andrea BROWN OR Michael Timothy KNIBBS & Elaine LAST
4. Baby KNIBBS, b. 22 August 1958

Marriage/Union Events for Raymond Dennis KNIBBS\Marian J HARDY:

Marriage Notes for Raymond Dennis KNIBBS\Marian J HARDY:


Notes for Raymond Dennis KNIBBS:


Please visit my page which refers to the books created by Raymond and his wife, Marian.

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Raymond Dennis KnibbsKNIBBS Raymond Dennis.
Raymond, formerly of Havenbaulk Lane, a dearly loved husband, father, grandad and friend to many, died at his home in Eaton Court on Tuesday 13th April 2010. All who knew him are welcome to share in our quiet tribute in words and pictures to his life's achievements at the Chaddesden Park Hotel on Thursday 22nd April between 11.30am and 4pm with burial in Nottingham Road Cemetery at 2.30pm. No flowers please - donations in lieu will go to Crich Tramway Museum and Midland Railway Centre, Butterley - two of Raymond's life's passions.

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Our gratitude goes to the members and volunteers at Find A Grave web site for recording the details, in memory of Raymond.

Sources for Raymond Dennis KNIBBS:

  1. Personal Contact with George Edward Knibbs,
  2. Ancestry.com, England & Wales, Birth Index: 1837-1983 
  3. Biography,
  4. Obituary,
  5. Ancestry.co.uk - England and Wales, Death Index, 2007-2013,
  6. Book - Families are Always With Us,

Notes for Marian J HARDY:


Notes for Baby KNIBBS:

Baby Knibbs, Born Aug 22nd 1958

Her Father’s Story...
It was at 1.50pm on August 22nd that Marian went into labour. The neighbours turned out to wish her well as I walker her to the ambulance, I left her at the hospital, there was no room for husbands then. I had left her to face this most critical part of our life alone.
Visiting time was at 7pm but I was there long before then. When the doors opened I began the walk to the maternity ward. There I was told to wait as the doctor wished to see me. Shortly afterwards Marian was wheeling past on a trolley- very pale and distraught. She held out her hand and said “Sorry” and was whisked away. A doctor eventually appeared to tell me that our baby daughter had been stillborn. The hollow feeling inside me became a pit of despair tempered only by the news that Marian was not in danger. I asked to see our child but was skillfully fobbed off. Even worse, I was then asked to sign a form donating our baby to medical research. I refused. Such was the system then.
I could say more but even after such a long time it has been very difficult to write about this event and many incidentals have been left out- they are relative only to Marian and me.
Marian was put in a ward with other new (successful) mothers which caused her much distress- me too. She had to watch them cuddle and feed their little ones while she swallowed stilbestrol tablets.
Eventually the ward bell rang and I made my way to Northwood Avenue where the only way I could find to tell David, Marian’s younger brother, was that he would have to wait a bit longer to become an Uncle.
The effect on Marian’s parents was equally devastating and I made my way back home in tears. But stopped at the phone box opposite Corden Avenue to make a long distance call to Leonard, my brother, in Birmingham.

The Following day arrangements had to be made. First I had to visit the registrar to register our baby’s birth and death, then it was to Wathall’s to arrange for her burial. Name-less and alone, she was buried without a funeral. So somewhere in Nottingham Road Cemetery lies our first born in a grave unknown to us and all we have remind us is a bill for £3 something (£3.25)
A few days later Marian came home and Mrs. Hardy took over at home so I could return to work. There I was clapped on the back and asked what we had- then the dreaded silence of embarrassment took over. The house was cleared of all the preparations for the baby. The baby clothes which Marian had knitted had to be put away in the loft along with the cot which I had made from an orange box, lined with cotton and trimmed with Marian’s wedding dress petticoat. The delivery of the pram was cancelled and all our friends and relatives were told the sad news.
Shortly before our marriage we had agreed that our first daughter would be called Margaret after the church where we had met. This was denied as our child had not lived and was known only as “Baby Knibbs: but even in our grief and despair we knew we would have to try again. And after an anxious, 'will it happen again' pregnancy Marian gave birth to another baby on August 1st 1959, just 49 weeks after her sister.
We named her Margaret.

Raymond Knibbs, 1991