Long day, but lovely to spend it by the seaside, especially in town where my grandmother grew up. Broadstairs first, and I found the house she lived in. The name of the house on the gate that I have from photos has long gone, but of only 5 similar houses, hers had a stone wall under fencing. The fencing is now a hedge, but distinctive nonetheless. It is in a very quaint part of Broadstairs (St Peters) and it was a short walk to St Peter’s Churchyard, where her father was buried. He died after a long period of invalidity (asthma, mostly) which is why they moved to the sea to be away from London in the early 1920s. Although I had the number and row of his grave, the row numbers outside the ‘main’ walled churchyard aren’t marked. We trailed up and down the rows looking for his name but to no avail. The parish office was shut and the vicar’s assistant didn’t know about the graves. In the end I asked a very kind lady who was laying flowers on a nearby headstone. I asked her if she knew the row/grave number so I could reference it and miraculously she did (after ringing her son at home)! We were then able to work backwards and get to the approximate location of Frank Edmund Phillips’ grave. Although the churchyard has undergone a huge clear-up of trees, weeds and bushes, our grave is not marked. It could be that it never was (although I would find that very hard to believe) or that it simply deteriorated through years of neglect. What a shame. I’m calling the parish office when I get back to double check where the grave should be.