ON the afternoon of March 12, I joined the several hundred people from Ludlow and nearby to celebrate the life of Jill Howorth.

The celebration was held at the Assembly Rooms, the arts centre Jill fought to have at the heart of Ludlow, which gives pleasure to so many of us.

The afternoon managed to include tributes from friends and family, tea and scones followed by one of her favourite films, Cinema Paradiso.

As creator and proprietor of the Silk Top Hat Gallery and an artist in her own right, she was in the forefront of the town’s development as a venue to which visitors flock.

Local artists were well-served by Jill who valued their contribution and supported their talents.

As a Shropshire child she grew up in the time of modest wages in a rural household with no piped water, no electricity and with the proverbial outdoor lavatory.

Despite what could be seen as material deprivation, her brother described an idyllic childhood free of anxieties; the family provided much of its own food and sold the surplus.

Jill was of my children’s generation and demonstrated the hallmarks of a special sort of privilege.

These children, whose grandparents had lived through the barren 1930s years and whose parents as children survived the deprivations of the second world war, grew up in a spirit of hope and confidence.

There was a sense of security; no longer the threat of the workhouse, no longer health care only if you could afford it and should you fall on hard times, decent financial help.

This was the era before the internet and invasive advertising, before the march of the giant corporations, before zero-hours contracts, it was the era in which ‘community’ was not simply a political slogan.

Jill was a woman of integrity without flamboyance; privacy was her hallmark together with a dry sense of humour.

Her early death is our sadness.

Working for a secure childhood for today’s children that they too may flourish would be a fitting personal memorial to Jill.