Foreign Perspectives

Andrew, the second son of my granny, was born in Killinchy on September 18th 1920. and almost made it to 90, dying just a few days ago on January 16th.

Growing up in the depression obviously limited the options open at the time but even so after starting off in the day school of McQuiston Memorial Presbyterian church in Belfast, he went on to Euston Street school and then to Belfast tech (now the Belfast Metropolitan College). By the time he’d passed through those the war had started and Andy joined the merchant navy rising in due course to the rank of Chief Petty Officer. During his time in the navy he was stationed in Jamaica and New York from whence he sent various momentos back home and picked up a number of medals along the way.

With the end of the war he joined Mackies which was one of the big engineering works of that era in Belfast. He remained there the rest of his working life. Following the death of his father in 1963, Andy cared for his mother through to the end of her life in 1988.

Although born in Killinchy, for the majority of his life Andy lived in the family home at 16 Lecumpher Street. When that was earmarked for redevelopment at the end of the 1990s, he was forced to move on to the Clarawood Estate where he spent a few brief years before moving into the Tudordale Nursing Home where he spent most of his final decade.

Andy was quite keen on cars and motor transport generally. Over the years that I knew him he managed to get around in a variety of them including a “mods” type scooter in the early 1960s and an Austin A40 (one of the tiniest cars you ever did see!) and latterly a Mini Metro. A number of these would never have passed a modern MOT and at one stage he ended up driving the A40 minus the floor of the car! Added to this was a keen interest in photography with quite a steady build-up of photographs over the years although perhaps his best photos were taken the time when he’d managed to forget to put a film in the camera!

Whilst he’d travelled the world with the navy, afterwards Andy limited himself to Northern Ireland and specifically Killinchy where he spent the summer months in a cottage rented by the family for over 30 years. From that base he went on numerous day trips with his favourite destination being the reservoir at Silent Valley and the Mourne area generally. In his latter years though he found that the travelling became too much and gradually the trips became shorter and in his final decade he never travelled more than a few miles from the nursing home.

There’s no mention here of surviving children because Andy never did get around to having a family. That’s perhaps the saddest thing about his death because though he loved children he never had any of his own. It does seem particularly sad to go to the funeral of someone like that: though there are probably more tears from any children when a mother or father dies at least there is a continuation whereas here that’s not the case.