David A. E. Hunt writes: Your obituary of Bishop Kenneth Skelton (August 1) rightly recognises his moral courage during the Rhodesian crisis in the 1960s. I can bear witness, too, to his physical courage. As our Bishop in Matabeleland he was due to conduct the annual confirmation service at a boarding school 40 miles from Bulawayo when, a little earlier, he was badly injured in a road accident. He nevertheless insisted on leaving his hospital bed to fulfil this engagement and arrived at the school chapel distinctly shaky but complete in cope and mitre and swathed in plaster and bandages, returning to hospital immediately after the ceremony.
He may have lacked small talk but his sense of humour was keen. On another duty occasion when he was our dinner guest, my wife was sitting with our ten-day-old daughter lying on her lap discreetly invisible below table level, to keep her quiet. The ploy did not escape our guest’s notice. “You can tell her one day,” he said, “that she spent her first party under the table with a bishop.” He was also tickled by the fact that one of Alec Guinness’s many personae in Kind Hearts and Coronets was indeed the Bishop of Matabeleland.
Professor Sir Bryan Thwaites writes: To the new boys at Dulwich College in 1936, the head boy was necessarily a remote, formidable, perhaps fearsome, figure. But it was not long before this new boy realised that Kenneth Skelton was not from the usual mould. Top of the classical sixth, an outstandingly beautiful reader of the lesson in morning prayers, an apparently effortless organ player, and all with looks and a demeanour to kill for, K. J. F. S. was clearly destined for some great work which would probably be out of the normal run of things. And so it proved — and his example has constantly inspired many, like myself, who have never even met him since.
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Norman Crossley writes: The arrival of The Right Rev Kenneth Skelton to St Michael and All Angels at Howe Bridge, Greater Manchester brought a tremendous sense of enthusiasm and deep new-found commitment in the faith. One would have expected that he would need time to settle in and consolidate, instead of which he began to galvanise all areas of church life from the start. Despite his shy initial approach in personal contact, he very quickly developed a warm rapport across the age groups and became immensely respected and loved, not least among the youth.
Despite his shyness, he had a will of iron and always stood by his principles and firm beliefs in every circumstance. As doughty Lancastrians ourselves, our parishioners greatly identified with his openness and directness. It is small wonder that he became such a thorn in the side for the Smith regime during his time as Bishop of Matabeleland.
He kept in touch with us and with other parishioners right up until the end of his life. Last year we were invited to his thanksgiving service in Sheffield Cathedral, celebrating his 40 years as a bishop. Despite his handicap from a recent stroke, which left his voice considerably weakened, he led the whole service himself, much to the joy and appreciation of all in attendance.
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Gordon Ryder writes: Your obituary of Bishop Kenneth Skelton reminds me of his deep concern for the under-developed countries of the world, expressed through his support of Christian Aid. He was chairman of the Sheffield Christian Aid Committee for a number of years and continued as a member of the committee into the mid 1990s. He rarely missed a meeting and when he contributed to the discussion it was always thoughtfully and carefully, with a clarity which often enabled us to make a better decision than otherwise we might have done. He gave his regular support to Christian Aid activities and in Christian Aid Week itself he would join other collectors on the Moor in the centre of Sheffield, making his own public witness for the work which was so important to him.