#52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks. Week 18 - 'Close Up'

Week 18: 'Close Up'

When we went on a Family History Trail in Great Britain in 2015, I tried to visit all the places my ancestors came from and where they were baptized, married and buried.

I think the one place I felt the most goosebumps was when I visited my father's hometown and the house he and the family had lived in. I went as close up as I could, climbing the stairs and knocking on the door.  Unfortunately, there was no one at home.  It is a strange feeling to walk in the same place as your father did when he was young and living on the other side of the world.

On the 29 May 1904 my father was born in a small house perched on the side of a rise at the end of the row of houses.  No 40 Dean Park, Peebles, Peeblesshire, Scotland.

A new door at No. 40

The row of houses at Dean Park

No. 40 Dean Park, Peebles

The earliest photo I have of my father.
He is in the centre, with his two sisters Sarah (L) and Isabella/Tibbie ((R)

My father (L), mother (C) and brother (R) in the 1960's.

#52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks. Week 17 - ‘Cemetery'

Week 17 Prompt: 'Cemetery'

I met a newly found relative of mine in Australia who is also a very keen genealogist.  We share ancestors on my maternal side and we pool our findings.  She had been to England a few years ago and found out as much as she could on the Palmer family of ‘Forest of Dean’ in Herefordshire.  However, there was one burial she could not find.  Esau Palmer (1807-1857) who was meant to be buried in the cemetery at the Baptist Chapel in Ross.  

I promised her I would do my best to track him down for her.  So in 2015 whilst travelling in the UK and on my family history trail I had this brilliant idea that as it was Sunday we should attend church at the Ross Baptist Chapel.  My ancestors there had been very religious and attended the Chapel.

It was a very musical service and an interesting video was shown on people-trafficking all over the world and how we can help prevent it. Then a sermon on “The first Commandment”  The preacher was a good communicator and had a bit of fun along the way.

After the service, we joined the congregation for coffee and a digestive biscuit.    We introduced ourselves and found a lady who said that there hasn’t been a cemetery there for years, that it is now all carpark.  BUT she said her children had once found some old gravestones under the Pipe organ in the church when they were exploring.  I asked could we see them please and she said it would be difficult as they were now under the floor with a door panel over them and filing cabinets on top !!!  She asked her husband and then came back and said that he wouldn’t be able to do it this week - no time.  I said we were only here today and tomorrow and pleaded that I had to see them before I go, having come all the way from Australia.  

‘Was there someone else who could help? - or could John and I do it ourselves now ?’  She went off again and eventually came back with her husband who said he would have a look with us, after all.  

So the men moved the heavy stuff and lifted the trapdoor.  Put an extension ladder down the black hole.  The husband went down first to trial it and then down I went squeezing my chest through a hole it didn’t fit. Then my husband peered through from above. No room for anyone else really.  Luckily there were a couple of little lights down there.   And so down into the dungeon we were.  

Lo and Behold  I found 2 Gravestones covered in rubble on the ground/floor down there.  The last of the stones that were still visible apparently.

The husband scraped away what he could of the rubble so we could try and read them.  I had some paper in my hand so folded that up and tried to scrape with that also. Made a little headway to clear enough to read some of the inscriptions. Sadly no luck with them being ours :(    

But I felt honoured to be seeing these gravestones in memorial of someone’s ancestors from the district, that are lost to everyday sight.  

One was for a daughter Harrietta Eliza and a boy JS Griffith aged 15 who died in March 180(9)

The other one we couldn't remove all the rubble and the part we cleared was probably the middle section which had a quote from the bible. I tried to take some photos in the dark.

They were very hard to take as you could only crawl onto them and the lights cast big shadows.

Although the search had proven fruitless for finding Esau's grave, I was very thankful to the couple for helping us and allowing us to look.  

Once we were out again and dusted down, the lady checked with the new Records officer at the Church - if there were any records available to see.  She told us that there are none there now - they have all been given over to Hereford Records Office.  

#52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks. Week 16 Prompt - 'Storms'

 Week 16 - ‘Storms’

Like all of us in this storm between birth and death, I can wreak no great changes on the world, only small changes for the better, I hope, in the lives of those I love.          Dean Koontz

I researched to find the biggest storms in the United Kingdom and came across the Night of the Big Wind, in 1839.  Wikipedia told me it was:  the most severe windstorm to hit Ireland in recent centuries, with hurricane-force winds gusting over 190 km per hour.  The European windstorm swept across Ireland killing between 250 and 300 people and rendering hundreds of thousands of homes uninhabitable and causing severe damage to properties. 

The storm developed after a period of unusual weather. Heavy snow, rare in Ireland, fell across the country on the night of 5 January, which was replaced on the morning of 6 January by an Atlantic warm front, which brought a period of complete calm with dense, motionless, cloud cover. Through the day, temperatures rose well above their seasonal average, resulting in rapid melting of the snow.

Later, on 6 January, a deep Atlantic depression began to move towards Ireland, forming a cold front when it collided with the warm air over land, bringing strong winds and heavy rain.  First reports of stormy weather came from western County Mayo around noon, and the storm moved very slowly across the island through the day, gathering strength as it moved.

By midnight the winds reached hurricane force. Contemporary accounts of damage indicate that the Night of the Big Wind was the most severe storm to affect Ireland for many centuries. Severe property damage was caused. Between a fifth and a quarter of all houses in Dublin suffered damage ranging from broken windows to complete destruction.   Much of the inland damage was caused by a storm surge that drew large quantities of seawater inland, resulting in widespread flooding 

The Night of the Big Wind became part of Irish folk tradition. Irish folklore held that Judgment Day would occur on the Feast of the Epiphany, 6 January (Old Christmas day). Such a severe storm led many to believe that the end of the world was at hand. Another belief was that the storm brought the end of the ‘Fairies’ as they were also blown away and not heard singing again.

The Old-Age Pensions Act 1908 introduced pensions for over-70s, but many Irish Catholics prior to the Registration of Births and Deaths (Ireland) Act, 1863 had no birth registration. One of the questions used to establish proof of age was whether the applicant remembered the Night of the Big Wind.

A popular story holds that the storm inspired the Director of Armagh Observatory, the Reverend Romney Robinson, to develop the cup-anemometer, which remains the commonly used wind measuring device today.          https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Night_of_the_Big_Wind

 _________________________

Okay so I had found my big storm – now I needed to relate it to my ancestors.  I researched further looking for any comment on its effect in Poyntzpass, County Down in the North of Ireland, where my Gt Gt Grandmother lived with her parents and siblings at the time. 

Sure enough, there was an article The Night of the Big Wind written by Frank Watters.  He claimed that by all accounts it was the most extreme storm in the last 500 years.  The storm became a landmark in time from which other events were dated.  People would say that ‘such and such’ happened before or after ‘The Big Wind’ commonly pronounced ‘Wine’.

The population of Ireland would have been about 8 million then, with most people living in the country.  Their farmhouses were scattered through fields all over the countryside. The houses were mud-walled and thatched with straw or rushes tied down with hand twisted straw ropes.  Many lived in constant poverty with a state of near-famine being the norm.

The Big Wind tore off slate roofing, chimneys, church spires, and thatched rooves fell in. This started fires in nearly every town and village as the main means of fuel was turf and tallow candles and rushlights.  Whole rows of thatched houses burnt down.  Hay, flax, and corn stacks and even some hens were blown away.  People lost their savings and valuables as well as any weapons they had hidden in their thatched rooves.

Ships were driven onto the land and dead bodies floated in with the tide. Large trees of up to 200years old were torn out of the ground.

People sought shelter in sheughs (ditches) and behind banks.  Reference: http://www.poyntzpass.co.uk/Before_I_Forget/1994_No_7/The_Night_of_the_Big_Wind.pdf

Then I remembered another possible relevant source - an ancestor’s diary.  So I checked again and -

Yes, there was mention of the storm on 06 January 1839.  The family seems to have fared okay apart from the farm and some buildings.

  

Copy of Excerpt from the diary of John Shanks, my 3^rdgreat grandfather’s brother.

#52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks: Week 15 'Taxes'

Week 15 Prompt:  Taxes

This is more of an American prompt - so I will be creative and write about an ancestor who has been particularly ‘taxing’ to me.

I had an ‘Uncle Dudley’ when I was young, I remembered that I met him once when I was 12 years old. He was captain of an oil liner LOF ‘London Resolution’ that was visiting Port Melbourne, docking at the Shell Refinery in 1958.
The Pearce families went down from country Victoria to meet with him on the ship. My sister and I thought he was just wonderful - such a good looking young man with a wonderful accent. He showed us all over the ship and the sailors were saluting him and smiling at us. I have a blurry photo of him taken on my box Brownie camera coming down the gangway and being blown in the wind.


I realized a few years ago that I had never come across him in my genealogical studies.
So the chase was on.

I don’t know why but I had the thought that he came from the West coast of Scotland somewhere - I think from something Aunty Tib said ( My Aunty TIb is in the previous blog - 'The Maiden Aunt'.)  So much time has gone that Uncle Dudley would be pretty old now – getting on for 90’s maybe.

I contacted other Pearce relatives in Australia, England, and Scotland. After a few months, I had some replies. But they were few and far between. One from the UK said: Sorry I can't help you with Dudley it's not a common first name in Scotland but might have been passed down from the families’ English roots. A couple of others in Australia remembered him and that they had also gone to Melbourne for the visit. One gave me his surname: Hepworth. As soon as I read it I remembered - ‘yes, of course that was his name’.

So now I had something to work with.
I searched online for oil liners and found shipping lists with the ships he was on and the crew names. I saw how he worked his way up the ladder. From being a cadet aged 19 in October 1942 to being a 2nd Officer as late as 1950 and then "Master" of "London Pride" in Jan 1961. I discovered a website for the shipping line’s past crews (L O F News) I heard back after a year or so from 1 ex-sailor who remembered Dudley as a great Captain but hadn’t seen him for a long long time.

In the meanwhile, I found a Captain William Dudley Hepworth born 11 Mar 1923 in the UK, who (sadly) died in November 2000 aged 77, in Exeter, Devon, England. I felt very sad that I had missed being able to talk to him if this was our Uncle Dudley. His names are uncommon and fitted as did his date of birth.  I couldn't find any other information about him in Exeter nowadays.

I notified relatives in Australia of this new information and asked if anyone had anything to add. I had an email from a cousin’s wife who heard from my cousin Isobel. She had discovered some old letters from Dudley to my Aunty Tib and one was written from the 'London Victory' on the 14th Jan 1957 and signed with 'W.' Dudley Hepworth.

Hurrah - So a 'W' initial has appeared. That fitted with the details of the ‘William Dudley’ that I found. Another letter gave the matching birth date of Dudley as 11th March, but no year or place, unfortunately.

I sought help from a Facebook genealogy group where I have a friend in England. She was happy to help and said:
" Now, your Uncle Dudley sounds an interesting man! Yes, I can imagine the welcome he got from family whilst visiting Australia, how lovely for him and them. So, I shall put on my thinking cap and see what I come up with.
I took a quick look and could only see his death details, nothing in the births in the UK, so maybe he was born somewhere else.   I think that William was born in Scotland, possibly Glasgow, as I saw he sailed on a ship out of there as a young man aged 19.  Although ‘Scotlands People’ website has absolutely nothing on him. Of the voyages he is listed in, on Ancestry he puts his first nationality as being English but on all the other years, he says he is Scottish. It appears he was about 5ft 10 ins and weighed about 145lbs, to give you an idea of what he was like back in the 1940’s."

and later:

"There is one mention of him travelling with family back in 1933, but can we be sure it is him? He was just shown as Dudley Hepworth so I have my doubts. It shows his mother as Beatrice Hepworth born 1882 and his father as John Hepworth born 1879, a plumber. On the 1933 sailing of the 'SS Themistocles’, Beatrice is just traveling with this Dudley Hepworth, having got on the ship at Melbourne. It shows Beatrice as a housewife, who has been living in Australia but to take up residence in Scotland. Their address in Scotland is listed as Lower View, Craig Row, Edinburgh."  She then checked the Merchant Seaman's Records on the National Archives to no avail and emailed the local papers in Exeter asking the archivist librarian if they could look up any mention of his death, obituary, and marriage.

The Beatrice Lumsden's in my tree did not match the birth dates for this Beatrice.
In the meanwhile, I started trawling through those ships passenger lists, I found one where Dudley was only 2 years old sailing with parents John and Beatrice to and from South Africa. Their address last resided at was: ℅ Mr. A Lumsden, Ormiston, East Lothian, Haddingtonshire, Scotland.

 EUREKA !!!

A male Lumsden married a female MacIntosh in my family tree and they came from Ormiston. So now to work out where mother Beatrice fits. The records show the family left Scotland for South Africa but were returning to reside in England.

After sending this information to my historian in England she tried the Ancestry Telephone Directories and found an entry for a William Dudley Hepworth in 1984, apparently the last of the directories.

GREAT - we now had an address in Throwleigh.

She explained:
" There is plenty of info on the village of Throwleigh, Devon online,  and the local church is called St Mary The Virgin Church.  I would not be at all surprised if William was buried there. I came upon this website that lists people buried there but I think it only goes up to 1996.  Worth a look at as there are other Hepworths buried there.
I also tried 'Google Earth' for the address but nothing.  I have come across a Church members' group based in the village where I think he lived and have emailed them to see if he was known in the village and asked if they had any information on him."

Then an extraordinary piece of luck - I received an email from England telling me that a lady from the church has contacted a daughter of Dudley's and she would email back.

WOW! So the thrill of the chase has hit.

Receiving the message here in Australia from England I quickly responded.
Then I received another surprise/shock - Dudley was the 'adopted' son of Beatrice Lumsden and John Hepworth. They had not had children and Beatrice was 56 years old when Dudley was born - although on the ship listing in 1925 it lists Beatrice as 49 yo and Wm Dudley 2yo.

My tree has Beatrice born 1866-7 (not validated) as one of the 8 daughters of my Great grandparents. If this is correct then Beatrice would be 59 yo and Wm Dudley 2 yo on the ship in 1925, which matches Dudley’s daughter's information.
Interestingly I see that Beatrice’s oldest brother Alexander born in 1858 married Jessie Burns and lived at Ormiston for a while – so I think this might be the address Beatrice and John gave as their home address In Scotland when they left for South Africa in 1925. This could be the Mr. A Lumsden of Ormiston listed on the Hepworth's passenger list.  On the return journey in 1925, they said they were going to live in England. (Maybe this time to the Hepworth families locality ?)

On looking further to find where another brick wall relative Aunty Elspeth fitted in (she lived in Sydney, Australia, and we visited her occasionally,) I came across the fact that the last born child – young brother of Beatrice - Richard McIntosh Lumsden (born 1880 died 1939) was married to Dorothy May Lambert and she had died in 2000 in Bulawayo, Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe.)

GOODNESS - WHAT A COINCIDENCE.

This is where William Dudley was born in 1923 (According to daughter.)   Beatrice and Isabella Pearce nee Lumsden (my Grandmother) were close sisters being born only 18 months apart in the middle of the Lumdsen siblings – This could account for another story from Dudley’s daughter - that when John Hepworth died, Beatrice and little son Dudley came to live in Australia with Grandma Isabella Pearce. She said they lived on a fruit farm. Our families were orchardists who settled in Victoria, after emigrating from Scotland. I recall no knowledge about this – but it could account for the closeness of Uncle Dudley to my father’s generation here in Australia.  Mother and son left in 1938.

I received this photo after I had done the research. 

It shows Beatrice with baby - William Dudley.  

It does look like they are seated under a gum tree - 

but as he is only a baby they would have still have been in South Africa.  

Dudley’s daughter told me that her dad was an only child. It seems that his mother Beatrice when on her deathbed, told him he was adopted.  Dudley was about 15.  From her passport etc, she was 56 when Dudley was born which could explain why I thought the two Beatrice's I found were not likely to be Dudley's mother.
The family in England do have some letters written by my Aunt Tibby and Dudley's daughter told me:

"Dad spoke fondly of her but really did not talk about his family much at all, after finding out he was adopted.  Our understanding is that Dad was born in Bulawayo, Southern Rhodesia, that his dad died when he was 7 and that our dad (Dudley) then moved to Australia with his mother (Beatrice) to live with cousins on a fruit farm. Dad moved to Scotland as a teenager we think, to finish his schooling before going to sea.
Dad met our mother Margarita, known as Rita Shields in about 1953, they married 7 years later.  It took so long partly because of Dad's absence at sea and partly because she was a Roman Catholic and neither of them felt able to make a cross-faith marriage but their love got the better of them!  They then had us three."

SO -  This explains why we could not find a birth for Dudley Hepworth in England or Scotland - he was born in South Africa.

I sent off emails to South African Genealogy groups about Feb 2015 to see if anyone could help me with information. I explained that my Great Aunt and Uncle in Scotland adopted a baby boy in South Africa. He was born 11 Mar 1923 in Bulawayo, Southern Rhodesia. At that time there was a younger Great Uncle and wife living there. (Richard and Dorothy Lumsden previously mentioned.)    My aim was to establish if Uncle Dudley was born to relatives or born to other people living there. Maybe even a family Richard and Dorothy knew.   The replies were not successful. Apparently getting access to adoption papers especially in Southern Rhodesia, now Zimbabwe is very difficult and you have to pay a lot of money. They suggested hiring a professional Genealogist for Zimbabwe.

As Dudley is not in my direct line It doesn’t feel right following it up further, with his family alive.

However, I now know my 'Uncle' Dudley is my first cousin once removed, (by adoption.)
I find it interesting that his parents went to South Africa to adopt in their later years, and I wonder if he was born to a Lumsden family living there and could he even be a blood relative? This will probably remain an unknown. But I have found some lovely cousins overseas now, who I hope to visit in the near future.

#52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks. Week 14: 'The Maiden Aunt'

Week 14 Prompt: 'Maiden Aunt'

My Auntie Tib is my maiden Aunt.  Her real name was Isabella Macintosh Pearce. She was an IMP just like me !   Tib or Tibbie is a Scottish nickname for Isabella.

Auntie Tib was born on 08 November 1899 at home in Miller St, Innerleithen, Peeblesshire, Scotland. Innerleithen is in the area called The Border Country on the River Tweed and close to the English border.

Family photo of Sarah (Ray), Bill, & Isabella (TIbbie) Pearce, C1906, Scotland

The Pearce family emigrated from Scotland in 1912 and Tibbie was 12 years old when they sailed on the ‘Demosthenes’.  Father - Francis George Pearce wanted to give the family a new start in a new country and applied for land to grow an orchard in the irrigation areas of Victoria.  He was given a block in Orrvale and eventually when the family next door walked off their land, he was able to add that block on as well.

Although life was hard work, all the families in the orchard areas became very good friends helping each other out in difficult times. There were socials, concerts, a debating society, young peoples’ clubs, church groups, sports and plenty of home-made amusements.

On their new block, the family lived in a tent until the two-roomed house was erected.  Tibbie and her sister Sarah (Ray) managed to complete schooling taking correspondence lessons from Melbourne High School and were passed as Sewing Mistresses.  Tibbie worked at the local country school (Orrvale) teaching for a few years.  She then worked as temporary relief school staff taking charge of small country schools. Always Tibbie was to return home to the orchard to help out in her holiday periods.

In 1922 Grandad Pearce died when he became sick and developed pneumonia. Tibbie returned home for a while to be with Grannie Pearce.  It may have been at this time that she had a suitor, a local man.  A boy whom she had known at primary school whose family had come from America. The family myth is that he and Tibbie got engaged, but her brothers did not think he was suitable for their big sister and somehow warned him off. 

In the thirties, TIbbie changed jobs and worked as a Sub-Matron in the Presbyterian Children’s Home in North Melbourne.  This gave her a taste of nursing, and she enrolled in training. On completion, she also did the Midwifery course.  Tibbie joined the Melbourne District Nursing Society and practised midwifery with them for 3 years.  She said these were some of the happiest days of her life, as she made so many friends.

Tibbie’s siblings all married apart from George the youngest – he was in the militia and was called up for World War II. Sadly he was killed in New Guinea on the Kokoda Trail in 1943.  His death was announced in the paper the same day as the news arrived that he had been awarded the Military Cross.

After the war, and her son’s death, Grannie Pearce was not managing so well, so Tibbie resigned her position and came home to care for her.  Of course, Tibbie helped out on the orchard as well, but she was able to fit in local community activities like CWA, Sunday School teaching, playing the organ at church, etc.  I think at this time that she was also working as an Infant Welfare Nurse.

In 1954 Grannie Pearce aged 84 years, died, and Tibbie’s brothers Bill and Jim arranged an overseas trip for her to visit all the relatives in Scotland and Canada.  Though the families were spread around the world, they had kept continually in touch through the mail.  Tibbie decided to lengthen the trip to over 2 years and nursed in a hospital in Saskatchewan in Canada.

On her return, Tibbie bought a block of land in Kialla over the road from her sister Ray.  She busied herself, planting native trees and encouraging the birds to her home.  The gum trees grew tall, and she loved to listen to the magpies and join in whistling the chorus.  Late in her life, Tibbie went overseas with a niece and husband and visited ‘a dear friend’ who we believe was her ex-fiancé.  She said they had a lovely time, that it was wonderful to catch up after all this time, but she was glad to get back to her own home on return.

Around this time, my father, her brother Bill donated land to the Infant Welfare group, and they built an office and centre.  It was named ‘The Isabella Pearce Child Centre’, honouring Auntie Tib.

Once she could no longer manage her little block, Tibbie moved into the ‘Miller Homes’ in Shepparton.  She gave up her car but could still get around utilizing the bus stop out the front of her cottage.  Tibbie was never left out of things.  She took it upon herself to become the Matriarch after Grannie Pearce died.  All the nieces and nephews visited her and took her to places and to family gatherings.

I remember my Auntie Tib as a very strong-minded woman with a Scottish accent.  She was intelligent and knowledgeable about so much, being very well-read.  She had very fine frizzy hair that she braided and tied around her head.  At night she would put her plait into rags and wear a night bonnet on top.  My mother told me that she had a soft spot for my brother Bill as he suffered from eczema when born and Auntie Tib was always telling Mum how she should be treating him, etc.  Until one day Mum refused to visit and demanded that Dad speak to her about her intrusive 'help'. He explained that Mum was the boy’s mother and knew what was best for him.  Things cooled for a while but then came right again.  Auntie Tib always kept in touch with my brother, writing regularly to him when he was at boarding school for 7 years.  She also attended his graduation from University just like a proud mother.

Tibbie was the keeper of our family history and was very involved in the local Family History Society.  She was a keen writer and poet.  She also interested my brother Bill in genealogy and research.  He passed it on to me.

We all loved Auntie Tib and remember her fondly, but I still feel very sad for her missing out on the chance of a married life with her fiancé and struggle to believe that her brothers would do that to her.

I think this photo was taken for her 90th birthday.

Auntie Tib was almost 91 when she died 26 September 1990 in Shepparton, Victoria.  (She always said she hoped to see in the new century.)

#52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks. Week 13: 'The Old Homestead'

Week 13 Prompt: 'The Old Homestead.'

The Orchard is how we refer to our old place at Grahamvale, Victoria.  I think our family moved out there from town (Shepparton) when I was about two so it would have been around 1948.  Our family of five - Mum - Lilian Agnes (nee Cottam) and Dad - William Louden Pearce.  My older brother - William Joseph and older sister -  Frances Elizabeth and then me - Isabel.

The house was an old weatherboard with a big verandah at the back and the ‘Big Room’ as we called it -  built on as a spare room and playroom.  There was a fireplace in there with openings in the wall to put the wood into the woodboxes from outside.  We kids played Monopoly in there for hours in the school holidays. The big wooden table was so handy - it was also used for table tennis.  When we had visitors it was the meal room and it was decorated especially at Christmas time for the big meals.  
  

Family Christmas in the 'Big Room.'

Fran and I shared a bedroom and Bill had his own.  We had an inside toilet which had an outside door as well to the verandah, so you had to make sure you locked both when in there so nobody burst in on you.

Mum and Dad’s room was verboten to us, but we would sneak in there sometimes.  Their room was along the passage up the front of the house and next to it was the front door (never used) which had stained glass panels that the sun shone through.  In their bedroom was a large chest of drawers which I now have and in the top little drawers Mum would hide gifts.  We were always trying to sneak in and see what was in there.  On top of the chest there was a cute little weather barometer with a little girl and boy that swung in and out of the little house dependant on the temperature.

There was a smaller dining room inside the house,  a very dark room only ever used by the adults - not so much as a dining room but as a card room.  Especially when Grandpa Cottam lived with us.  Grandpa used to sit out on the verandah in his cane chair and we would love to comb his snowy white hair.

Grandpa Cottam (L) in his cane chair with his walking stick, on the verandah 

Outside the house my brother had a hut which was just his - and he had a note on the door “KEEP OUT”  He had a crystal radio set he spent a lot of time with.  We girls always tried to get in - but maybe I never did as I can’t remember it inside.  Then there was the Shed - a big shed for the orchard doings - grader, packing, cases, trucks, tractor, etc.  Under the shed there was plenty of room for playhouses and hiding spots.   

In the early days we had 2 lovely old draught horses for pulling the plough and other jobs.  Fran and I loved the horses - and occasionally were allowed to sit on their backs for a wee ride.   Jean was Dad’s worker and she was a quiet woman and extremely hard worker.  Unusual to have a female, but in reality Jean dressed as a man and spoke like a man.  We were all taken aback when later on she married and had children.

I have many happy memories from the orchard - it was an ideal place for children to grow up.