Saturday 11 October 2008

Mc Donald Family History

I think it might be of interest to the younger generation of the clan to put in writing the interesting episodes of my life and what I know of the family history, and also some details of the earlier life of my lovely wife, Teresa. After we were married of course our lives have been intertwined and we have shared all our experiences, so much so that we only spent about seven nights apart during 58 years together. Before I start on our personal story I will recount what I know of the family history.
The Mc Donald family came originally from a small village in county Wexford, called Kilmyshal, where they can be traced back as far as the 16th century, from church registers and from tombstones in the old cemetery in that village, which cemetery has been closed for almost 150 years, so that most of the tombstones are no longer erect. Before the 16th century there are two possible routes to trace the family further back. The first is that we were possibly descended from a part of the Mc Donald clan of The Isles, who came to Ireland under the leadership of Sorley Boy Mc Donald, as mercenary soldiers to help the O’Neill and the O’Domnaill in their struggle against Queen Elisabeth, at the time when the crown forces fought to take control of the north of Ireland. After the flight of the Earls O’Neill and O’Domnaill, Sorley Boy settled in the glens of Antrim and later was granted an Earldom, and in time some of his descendants drifted south and possibly some might have come to live in Kilmyshal. The second theory is that in fact we are part of the O’Murrchu clan, which can be traced back to the year 200. In the factual history of that clan the chief’s son Domnaill, had a terrible row with his father and declared that he would never call himself O’Murrchu again, and it is known that after leaving the family home he settled with his wife and children somewhere around Kilmyshal. His sons of course would be called Mc Donald, sons of Donald or Domnaill. To my mind it is too much of a coincidence not to be the more likely history!
My great, great grandfather was a farmer in Kilmyshal, having probably been born around 1795, and there are McDonalds living in the village today. My great grandfather came to Bunclody, a small town about four miles from Kilmyshal and had a small shop in Irish street and about seven acres of land at the top of that street. I don’t know how many children he had, but my grandfather was born there around 1855. His name was Patrick and he must have had at least two sisters, as my father had cousins called Coughlan and Caulfield. Patrick married a lady called Mary Wall from Bunclody and they had three children, my father William, his sister Maggie and a younger brother John. Patrick became farm manager and head gardener at the Halldare estate, owned by an Anglo Irish family, the head of which was Lord Halldare. At the same time his wife ran the shop and they cultivated the few acres of land, and she was the person who really brought up the children. Patrick and Mary died within a few years of each other in the mid 1920s.
My father was born in 1884 and was educated in the local school and later attended St Patrick’s teacher training college in Dublin, and shortly after graduation while in an assistant teacher position in a small town in Wexford he met May Furlong from Wexford town and fell in love. She had graduated as a teacher from the only ladies training college in Ireland at the time, in Belfast, after which she had been working also as an assistant in a nearby village. When they decided to get married they were jointly appointed to Kilmuckridge national school as joint head masters, she as head of the girls school and he as head of the boys. A few years afterwards they joined the two schools together and it became a mixed school where they worked until they retired at the age of sixty- five. For their honeymoon they planned to go on the maiden voyage of the Titanic, and before it left Belfast they paid a visit there to arrange reservations, but were horrified to find that there were anti- Catholic graffiti and writings on the docks and even on the ship, which made them change their minds about the voyage, which was just as well, as if they gone we might never have been born. My parents were supplied with a house, which was rather small until my father put on a substantial extension which gave them five bedrooms, a large kitchen with a separate utility area, a good sized dining room and a nice sitting room. There was no running water, no toilet indoors, no lighting either inside or out, a range for cooking which took coal or timber, and no facilities for washing or drying, which meant that all had to be done by hand. However they were glad to have a home and they started to try to have a family immediately, but before I start that saga I will try to fill you in with my mother’s family history.

My mother’s maiden name was Furlong and she was born in number 2 Old Pound Wexford on 24th February 1887, the second youngest of seven children. The Furlongs had first come to Wexford in 1172 with Strongbow and his Norman knights to aid King Dermot Mc Murrough in an internal struggle with another Irish leader. When they were successful in their battles Strongbow married the king’s daughter and settled in Ireland and granted his fellow knights land, and built castles throughout the county. John Furlong was granted lands in south Wexford where he built castles in Horetown, Polehore, Foulkes Mills and other places in the south of the county, where his descendants lived in comparative luxury until 1649 when Cromwell attacked Wexford town. The Furlongs, like all people of old English descent were Catholics and naturally sided with the majority of actual Irish descent in their struggle against Cromwell, and helped to defend the town, and might have succeeded if it hadn’t been for a traitor called James Stafford who admitted Cromwell’s troops to the town. What followed was a massacre, with hundreds of women killed while praying before a cross in the Bullring in the centre of the town, and the local leaders hanged on Wexford Bridge – among them was a John Furlong. The Furlong lands were forfeited and their castles razed to the ground, and the various branches of the family scattered, most of them through the county, but some settling in County Clare. My mother’s family stayed in the town and several generations later around 1865, my grandfather, John Furlong married a lady called Barbara Lawlor and they had seven children. Barbara Lawlor was the daughter of a Barbara Lawlor whose husband was a solicitor in Dublin living in 44a Lower Leeson Street in1800. She was a personal friend of Daniel O’Connell, the famous Irish patriot, and letters he wrote to her still exist in the family. As a strange coincidence I stayed with my sister Rita in a flat in the same house when I was a student in university in 1946.
My grandfather John had a wonderful tenor voice, reputedly as good as that of John McCormack, but he died quite young around 1892, leaving my grandmother to bring up her seven children. She lived in 2 Old Pound and also owned and ran the County Hotel near the Bullring. She managed to give all her family a good education, three of them becoming teachers, one a priest, one a customs and excise officer and the other two girls marrying, one to an RIC officer and the other to a wealthy farmer, but unfortunately dying on delivering her first baby. The priest Michael went to New Zealand becoming parish priest of Davenport, which was a tiny town in his early days, situated across the bay from Auckland. He had the foresight to buy up most of the surrounding land and became extremely wealthy when the small town grew to become a city. During his lifetime he spent six months holiday in Ireland every four years, staying a lot of that time with my mother and promising to leave his millions to the family. However just before he died after a visit by his Bishop he changed his will and left it all to the Church.
In Kilmuckridge my father set about improving the house and grounds, firstly building four big outhouses and two large greenhouses, in which he grew tomatoes and cucumbers and later on grapes. He later built three large tanks, one of them on a height, so that water would flow to the house. All three collected the rainfall from the roofs of the house and school. He then installed a flush toilet and water flow to the house, at the same time as these things were being done in Wexford town. He also sank a septic tank deep in the garden. At the time the Shannon Scheme for generating electricity was getting underway he thought of generating our own electricity from a fast flowing river nearby, but some local farmers objected because it would have put a small increase on their rates. Instead he erected a high windmill in our garden and made his own electric supply, using several car batteries joined together as a generator. This lasted for several years until the windmill blew away in a severe storm. He then installed Calor gas to all rooms, doing all the actual piping work etc alone, and this served the house until the gas became unavailable during the war, when he was forced to rely on oil and petrol lamps. He bought his first motor – car, a Peugeot in 1906, it had no roof, a bench seat, solid tyres and a steering rod rather than a steering wheel. He later took my mother on a tour of Ireland before they had children, doing it’s top speed of ten miles per hour, and with the total population of all the towns they visited running after them to see the horseless carriage. He later had a three-wheeler, a Morgan, and several others before graduating to a model T Ford by the time I arrived on the scene. With the condition of the roads and the type of rubber used in the tyres, punctures were an everyday occurrence, so it was necessary to carry three spare tyres every time he went to town. He often had to replace tyres in spilling rain at night. When he read of Marconi he got interested in sound and actually made the first sound radio in Ireland, making all component parts, including valves, by hand. At the same time a man called Dillon Digby was also experimenting in Dublin, trying to get sound, and Dad and he met frequently. When Dad succeeded he invited this man to hear the sound, and arranged the meeting for a Saturday. Word got around and thousands of people gathered outside our house to hear this sound, which they heard from a large loud - speaker sited at the window. Afterwards Dillon Digby suggested that they should form a partnership to produce radio, but my father said Digby should form the company and that he would be the agent for the south of Ireland, as Digby lived in Dublin while he lived in Wexford. So it was arranged and for some years my father made money as agent, but eventually competition became too successful. The company on the other hand went from strength to strength and became Pye Ireland Ltd.
My father found time to write several short stories, which were published in various magazines, and he also wrote a couple of plays, the best being “The Rose of Tralee”. He painted dozens of Watercolours, none of which have survived, but all were very good. He could play every musical instrument, including the violin, the mandolin, the guitar, the piano and even the musical saw and the harp. At the same time he grew every type of vegetable in his three acres of garden and had almost every type of fruit and looked after the two green houses. He also gave extra tuition to many students, encouraging pupils to become doctors or vets or to study accountancy. Most children leaving his school would have acquired as much knowledge as pupils with A Levels today. He was a wonderful father and was complemented by an equally wonderful wife who was beautiful, highly intelligent, kind and gentle and the best mother that anyone could have, my mother, May. My father died at the age of 79 on 1st Nov1953, while my mother lived to the great age of 93. Of their seven children Rita became a teacher and died at the age of 88, Jack became a doctor and died at the age of 61, Kevin also became a doctor and died at the age of 67, Barbara lived as a wife, and later as a widow and died at the age of 64, Billy became a chartered accountant and eventually became a director of Jefferson Smurfit and Co, and also acted as company secretary. He was a very successful man and died at the age of 83, Eva also became a doctor and lived in Canada where she became chief of Public Health in Toronto, after a very successful life she died at the age of 75.

In our youth in the good days when children could roam the countryside in safety we had the freedom to do so, and as Kilmuckridge was near the sea we spent the whole Summer on the beach where we learned to swim almost before we could walk and where we played football and hurling, and did a little fishing. We all acquired bicycles as we got older, having travelled by donkey and cart when quite small. Our parents played cards as a hobby, the favourite game being Nap, and there was always a game in our house on Sunday evening. On Monday morning there was a rush to the sitting room to find the small pieces of silver on the floor.
Saturday was the day for the weekly trip to Wexford town, leaving the house around 10 o’clock in the morning, always bringing three spare tyres to cope with the inevitable punctures, and arriving home around midnight. My mother would stock up with food supplies for the week and my father would buy what he needed for the car or radio etc and then we would have a big meal with my uncle Jim Furlong and go to the cinema. My day would be spent visiting the various ships in the harbour, as Wexford was a very busy port in those days and there might be as many as twenty ships from all over the world in port at the same time. Unfortunately the harbour became silted over later and large shipping couldn’t dock. There was a pump near the village from which we had to carry two buckets of drinking water every day. We also had a hand pump to fill from the low tanks to the high one to keep water to serve toilets etc, so we boys had to spend twenty minutes every day at this exercise. A travelling library visited the school once each month, so I had plenty of reading matter. There were three local men who had served in the first world -war, and they had returned suffering from shell shock, and I can remember feeling very sorry for them as they suffered so much. Tuberculosis was a scourge of Ireland when I was young and in our village every family lost at least one child, sometimes after years of illness. I remember five of one particular family dying from it, including a friend of mine. As we lived on top of a hill we all escaped thank God. The village consisted of three general stores, two of which had licences for alcohol, two other public houses, a creamery, a post office, two forges, a Catholic church and about thirty houses. It was a busy place serving a wealthy farming area. Farmers brought their milk in large churns to the creamery every morning and returned with their butter and cream. Some of them made their own butter and some killed their own cattle and sheep, so we could buy our meat from them. Two postmen delivered post on foot every day covering an area of four miles in either direction-they didn’t graduate to bicycles for many years. In my early years there were only three or four cars in the area so travel was by pony and trap or by horse and cart, or even donkey and cart. There was a monthly fair at which farmers sold and bought their animals along the roadside and where the bargaining was worth seeing with spitting on and slapping of hands to cement the bargain. These days always ended with a long sojourn to the pub. Men drank in moderation and ladies almost not at all and drunkenness was rare. There was only one man who got absolutely incapacitated every night and was put into his pony and trap with the reins wound around the collar, so that the pony would take him home safely. I can remember wakening up at night listening to the wheels coming slowly up the hill past our house, and quaking with fear, until one bright, moon-lit night I plucked up courage enough to draw the curtains and see for myself that there was no headless coach. I have never been afraid again. Sunday Mass was at 6 am and 10 am and as youngsters we served Mass. One Sunday when I had the early duty I recruited my sisters and brother to play a trick on the people attending the 10 o’clock service. Farmers tied their ponies and traps all down along the hill so, when all was quiet we exchanged their ponies and tackling, which caused the greatest confusion when people were leaving. We watched from the top of a haycock and enjoyed the chaos and were never suspected. After the later Mass anyone who needed attention to teeth gathered at “the half way house” to see the “dentist”- a man with no qualifications, six feet nine inches in height, who did extractions with a special pliers! In the autumn every farmer had a threshing, lasting anything from a half day to three days depending on how much corn needed to be done. The old fashioned threshing machine was used with sheaves of corn being fed in by hand. I often helped at this work. After the bigger threshings there was always a barn dance and a big meal, to which all the young people gathered. The banns for intended weddings were always read from the altar at all Masses for three consecutive Sundays. On one occasion a local girl became pregnant and everyone knew that one of the local blacksmiths, who was single, was the responsible man. The curate priest waited a few weeks for the couple to come forward and when they didn’t do so he announced off the altar that” it has come to my knowledge that a certain young lady is pregnant and we know well who is responsible and I give that man three weeks to have the banns read, and if he hasn’t done so by then I will personally beat him out of the village”. The curate was an ex all- Ireland footballer, a big man of over 6 feet, but the blacksmith was also about the same size, so when the banns weren’t read on the third Sunday everyone in the parish gathered to see the outcome. The curate got a hurling stick and went straight down to the forge where the blacksmith was waiting and immediately set about him, hitting him around the chest and shoulders so that it was impossible for the poor man to defend himself. He had no option but to retreat up the hill where there was a bicycle on which he escaped. He went to the next village where he set up business. He actually married the girl a year later without being coerced! My father told me he drove the car on paraffin oil during the first world - war, having used a little petrol to get the car started. He recalled seeing some of the lovely homes owned by Anglo Irish families being burnt down during “The Troubles”, and of watching the local coast guard station burning to the ground, leaving the staff homeless. He had played cards with the officer and his wife. During the civil war, on his journeys to and from Wexford town he was stopped frequently by people from both sides asking him to drive a group of them to some particular destination. He always did as requested without asking questions and remained absolutely neutral. It wasn’t long after this time that I grew up, and in my youth I saw no evidence of any enmity between local people, though there must have been divisions at the time. The same thing applied to Wexford town where there certainly were great divisions during the fighting.
One Anglo Irish house that was destroyed was Upton House owned by a Colonel Bryan who left and returned to England, where he died soon afterwards. His son, calling himself Major Bryan, as the son of a Colonel, returned to the village a few years later and built on to the gate lodge, making it into what he called a Spa, and until the 2nd war started he brought visitors from England to have his particular treatment, massage, the waters, and sun, which they got from sun beds. He fenced off an area of the beach for nude sunbathing, and as a youth I often spied on the bathing beauties. After the war he reopened the Spa, but this time it wasn’t successful, so eventually he sold the property and land to a local gentleman for quite a small amount of money. His sister had her own plane and was a great friend of Amelia Earhart the famous aviatrix, and both ladies often flew their planes towards Kilmuckridge, landing on a flat field near the house. The major and his sister were friends of the members of the famous Happy Valley group and often spent time in their company, but were not involved in the murder in any way. The world champion tug of war team who won two years in succession, sometime in the early 1900s, came from Kilmuckridge. Their combined weight was something over 2 tons and they were all over 6 feet 6 inches in height. Two of them, the Mangan brothers, were also world champion weight lifters, holding the record for many years. The well - known Island Hunt gathered almost outside our house for years until they moved to meet in Crossabeg. In the 1930s one of the local pubs opened a room to be used as a club where local men met to play cards and to have a drink and listen to the news on the radio. Not many people had radio at that time. My brother Jack thought that he would play a trick on them one Winter’s night when there was a severe storm. He intercepted the news buletin, cutting in to speak himself immediately after the announcer said” This is the 9 o’clock news from the BBC, Bruce Veltbridge reading it”. Jack continued from another room,” Before the news there is one SOS message, there is a ship in distress and sinking off the coast of Wexford near Morriscastle.” Before he could finish or explain that it was a hoax, the room had emptied, as most of the men belonged to the local coastguard. He had continued speaking not knowing that the room was empty, and when he emerged no one was there. The damage was done, several people had gone straight to the beach and started to float the lifeboat, others had alerted my father, who was in charge of the coastguard and local defence and he was on his way to the lady in charge of the post office to get her to telephone the Arklow lifeboat service to liaise with them. Luckily Jack met my father and told him the true story, so they were able to contact Arklow and tell them it was a hoax. They then had to drive down to the beach and supervise the beaching of the boat. All this was in heavy rain, so you can imagine how pleased the local men were, and I don’t have to tell you how annoyed my father was with Jack.
When I was fourteen I was sent to boarding school in Carlow to Knockbeg College, which was an A school, which meant I had to study everything through Irish, including Latin and Greek. It was a very tough school with rigid discipline and severe punishment, but in spite of this I managed to get 10 honours, with almost 100 per cent in each subject. The president of the college was Father Swain, who was a Gaelic football enthusiast who encouraged it and frowned on hurling, which was my game. We were not allowed to practice and were not allowed to play or practice rugby, but were obliged to play football, a game at which I was hopeless. Nevertheless we entered the league games every year. If the football team won a match they got a free day, but we never got one, On the other hand if we lost a match we would get extra study. Athletics were allowed but not encouraged and I managed to win most races at the sports day in my first two years. I started as a hot favourite the following year but was beaten in all but one, by a newcomer who was a year younger than me. I managed to jump 21feet 9 inches in the long jump to get first prize by a distance on my last year, just before I was seventeen. It just shows the poor state of Irish sport at the time- I didn’t even know that was a great jump and that it could have won the University record at the time. This record was established at 22 feet 10 inches six years later. On Sunday mornings the president held what he called “Judgments in the study hall. He took class by class and read out results in studies, in discipline and in sport. Prefects gave notes for breaches of discipline during the week, and these had to be returned signed by the president or dean. There was also a points system for achievement in class and if anyone didn’t achieve the desired figure he would be punished. The punishment was three flogs for each note and three for each lack of achievement. All this was read out at judgments with the pupil standing up, following which he would be told how many flogs he would get. That evening all those to be punished would queue up at the rooms of the deans of studies and discipline and wait for the sentence to be carried out. There was one dean who was really a sadist and seemed to take a delight in administering punishment, making sure that the cane would go right up the arm. On several occasions I watched fellows getting up to nine on each arm by this Father Meagher. The other dean, a Father Powell, almost cried having to administer the punishment.
The food was dreadful and we were all hungry most of the time, the only thing in abundance was bread, which had mostly to be eaten dry because of scarcity of butter. The only good meal we got was on Sundays, but that had to suffice for the week. We went on strike once for more butter, refusing to eat at all until we succeeded.It was a great school academically, getting great results, but from every other point of view it was a dreadful place. I won a scholarship at the entrance examination and got free education so I never told my parents of the harsh treatment, in case they would take me away. However being clever I seldom got any caning except for discipline. Many years later when I was in Cheltenham Races with my wife I saw Father Meagher coming down a stairs towards me with his hand outstretched to shake hands, and I gave me great pleasure to walk on by as if I had never seen him before. When I was seventeen my father suggested that I should sit the matriculation exam which I passed, even though I hadn’t seen the curriculum, and with this I gained admission to university, University College Dublin, or U.C.D, as it was known, which in many ways is one of the finest Medical schools in the world.
My eldest brother Jack studied chemistry for some years but later started Medicine, only two years before me, although he was eight years older than I. My other brothers and older sisters had started on their various careers before I started studying medicine so I was thrown in contact more with Jack than with the others. When I was fourteen my father bought a large bivouac tent, large enough to stand upright in the centre, and Jack and I spent our Summer holidays sleeping in this in a sheltered spot in the sand dunes at the beach, from June to September. We had a large mattress with damp proof underlay, a primus stove to cook on, two point 22 rifles, and a shotgun, so that we could shoot rabbits and pheasants and wild duck when in season. We did a deal with a local farmer to acquire vegetables in return for rabbits and in this way we were almost self sufficient, with the help of supplies from our mother after the weekly trip to Wexford town. We always went home on Sundays to spend the day with the family and to have the traditional family lunch. We became completely bronzed and very fit by mid September, when we had to end our camping. Courtown Harbour was only nine miles away so we cycled there to the dances twice a week, and there were always some visitors staying in local farmhouses during July and August, with plenty of parties being held in the evenings. Shortly after the beginning of the war coal became impossible to obtain and there was no turf available in our part of the country so my father was forced to buy trees from the local farmers and Jack and I had to fell them, split them into lengths with sledgehammers, and then saw and axe them into pieces small enough to fit into the fireplaces and into the range, having first transported them home and packed them into the outhouses. This may sound easy but was terribly hard work which made us really strong, and I attribute the fact that I can still hit a golf drive 235 yards at 83 years of age to the muscles and strength I built up doing timber work. I had a wonderful youth in Kilmuckridge, in a very happy home with lovely parents and loving brother and sisters. I had swimming, shooting, fishing, football and hurling and in short everything a young man could ask for.
In U.C.D. between medicine and dentistry a large number of us started in 1940. I was the youngest ever to start medicine in Ireland up to that date, starting on my actual seventeenth birthday, 3rd September. I remember the professor saying on our first day “ ladies and gentlemen you must remember that at the end of the year 50% of you will fail the exam. I suggest that the other 50% should start a novena to the Blessed Virgin immediately, perhaps one or two of you will get through.” In fact that proved to be true, so the following year we were reduced considerably and many were doing dentistry. That year we started anatomy, a subject which didn’t suit the ladies at all, with most of them fainting as soon as they started dissecting the cadavers, which resulted in most of them giving up thoughts of continuing the study of medicine. Anatomy of the head and neck, and physiology occupied us in our third year, very difficult subjects which weeded out all the weaklings, so that by the beginning of our fourth year our numbers were reduced even more. That year we started clinical work in hospitals, being taught by surgeons and physicians, and learning how to examine patients. Fifty percent attended St Vincent’s Hospital and the other fifty attended the Mater Misericordia at the other side if the city. I was assigned to a very famous surgeon, a Mr Barneville, and an equally famous physician, a Dr Murray Hayden in the Mater Hospital, and from these two eminent gentlemen I learned all my medicine, and considered myself very lucky to have had such wonderful teachers. I studied my Midwifery and Gynaecology in the old Coombe Hospital and saw life in the raw in one of the worst slums you could imagine, but managed to get wonderful experience. That hospital has gone and the slums have disappeared and a new modern hospital has been built in the suburbs. I have been told that the people, having moved to accommodation with bathrooms, didn’t know how to use the baths and for some time instead of bathing they stored their coal in the bath.
I got Diphtheria in the middle of my third year and was obliged to miss the rest of that year, which meant that I had to spend seven years studying, rather than six. I graduated in July 1947 with the MB, B.Ch, BAO degrees, the latter being considered a consultant’s qualification in England, and I got honours in Pathology, Phamachology and Materia Medica, which is really the medical treatment of disease.
In secondary school I had been good at athletics, particularly the long jump, but in U.C.D.I didn’t continue, as there was no encouragement in the early days after registration. I went to Belfield, which was the sports ground in those days, to find no organisation and no attempt being made to start games etc After a month of inactivity I gave up trying and decided to take up boxing as my sport and managed to box light -weight and win 11 out of 12 bouts, being beaten by the Irish youths champion. I also was good at table tennis and managed to beat the Irish champion in one game out of three. I also managed to make a lot of pocket money playing cards, poker and solo, which helped with bridge in later life. The final medical examination was very prolonged in those days and when I graduated in 1947 it was spread over six weeks. Three weeks before the actual exam I was sent by Mr Barneville to get some notes which he required urgently, as he wanted to look at them before starting an operation, from a Dr Freeman who was conducting a clinic in another ward. I interrupted Dr Freeman saying “excuse me sir, Mr Barneville needs the notes for Mr x urgently as he is waiting to start an operation” He said “you have a confounded cheek interrupting me in the middle of my clinic, so just wait until I am finished”. I said “but it is urgent sir” He ignored me completely, and immediately he finished the clinic he dashed off down the corridor. I followed and passed him out and said, “you have forgotten the notes sir” Without further ado he pushed me against the wall, and being a very big man it was with considerable force, and said” what is your name young man.” When I told him, he said he would remember it when I came in front of him in my final in three weeks time. In fact I was examined by him and two externs in one medical oral exam and was asked every conceivable question by him for almost two hours. Eventually one of the externs said, “I think Dr Freeman you have asked every possible question of this young man and we think you should let him go”. He had done everything he could to fail me and I awaited the results with trepidation not knowing if he had succeeded. Life in Dublin as a student in 1940-1947 was very different from life there today. Most students stayed in lodgings or digs as we called them, at a cost of around £1.5 per week to include all meals. There were no grants, so parents had to pay fees, digs, and supply pocket money. It was impossible for students to get part-time or holiday employment, so most of them were very impoverished. The main way to enjoy oneself was to go to the cinema, which cost one shilling, the equivalent of 10p today, or to attend a dance at one of the dozens of dance halls scattered through the city. Dances started at 7pm and finished at 12 mid-night, costing 1-2 shillings. There were no discos and no nightclubs. The average pocket money was between 10s and £1 per week and in those days everybody smoked, which cost 3.5s per week. The routine for the average student was to go out on Thurs and Saturday evenings to have a drink and to crash a dancehall around 10 pm. Crashing meant getting in through a window or slipping in unnoticed when one of the group would distract the doorman. If it became impossible we could then try to bargain, but usually we were successful. Everybody had a bicycle, so there were hundreds of cyclists on the roads. The old trams served almost all parts of the city, and there were still hansom cabs available. There was also some transportation by horse drawn vehicles, particularly Guinness owned. There was no central heating in houses, which therefore had to be heated by turf fires. Landladies didn’t take kindly to supplying too much turf, and unscrupulous dealers watered the turf well to make it weigh heavier. There was no coal available as the war was on. There was one very severe Winter during which poor people had to break up everything made of wood to burn it to keep warm. There were far more cinemas than there are today and there were always queues for admission and there was usually a short supporting stage show. At one such show in the Capital Theatre a hypnotist from England asked for volunteers for his act and had eventually got six people on stage. He had four of them hypnotised, one imagining that he had a lepracaun resting on his arm, another imagining that she was holding a baby in her arms, a third trying to correct a naughty child, and the fourth cleaning a dirty surface. At that stage there was a sudden cry of “fire, fire” and immediate panic with everybody rushing for exits, including the hypnotist and those hypnotised and all mixing with the crowds. The Guards got the scene under control and dispersed the people and those still in a trance went home. Their relatives of course knew nothing of the cause and thought that they had gone mad and soon afterwards sought the advice of the medical profession. Hypnosis wasn’t suspected for almost a week and then it was found the hypnotist had returned to England. Local experts didn’t succeed and it took a further week to trace the man in England and get him back and to take those involved out of their trance. I don’t think they ever had a similar show. I joined the Second Line Medical Defence Corp in 1943 mainly to get to the annual camp at Grangegorman to where I went in July with my friend Jim Friel. It was fun though we had plenty of marches and assault courses. We were allowed out to town three evenings per week to be back by midnight, so on the other evenings we had to steal out through a Commando camp. All went well until one night when returning around 2am one of our lads tripped over a guy rope and brought down one of the Commando tents. We ran of course, but the Commandos knew that one of our group was responsible, so they waited to try to get their revenge. The opportunity arose a few nights later when Jim and I were having a quiet drink in a local pub. Six Commandos came in and spotted us and immediately set about us. We were outnumbered and didn’t have a chance and I soon found myself being thrown through a window onto the road and Jim after me. I cut my Medial nerve at my wrist and soon developed a paralysed hand. A local doctor put a few stitches in the wrist but didn’t diagnose the nerve severance, and although I attended the Army doctor during the remaining four days of our camp he didn’t diagnose it either. However the Commanding officer got me to sign a statement that I was satisfied with the medical attention I had received. I attended the surgeon at St Vincent’s Hospital a week later, but it was too late to suture the nerve endings by then. This meant that I had to have extended physiotherapy for months which resulted in recovery, except that ever since I have had mixed sensation in my fingers. If I get an injury to one I get pain in the other, and I have a residual semi- numbness in my index finger. As a result I do all my intimate examinations with my left hand, which is now as strong as my right and I have become almost ambidextorous.
I met Teresa in 1944 in June at a dance and managed to persuade her to dance with me three times, much to the disgust of the young man she was with. I met her again in the following October, this time without a partner and we started to meet almost every day after that, attending all the dances and cinemas in town and spending most of the fine Summer, in my spare time, in Killiney on the wonderful hill with the beautiful view of Dublin bay. We became unofficially engaged the following year, without a ring, as I couldn’t afford to buy one. Teresa helped me with my studies, asking relevant questions and patiently sitting quietly while I read medical books.
I made some very good friends during my time in Dublin and have remained in touch with some of them, but as Ireland couldn’t absorb all her graduates it was inevitable that we would become scattered through the world. For me to consider staying in Ireland after graduation in 1947 would have meant staying in hospitals for at least eight years working for a pittance. As Teresa and I wanted to get married I couldn’t do this so I decided to go to England and get into general practice, but I had to earn some money first to pay my way. I couldn’t ask my father for more support, as he had been wonderful to finance me, and six others of the family, through university, paying all fees, lodgings and pocket money, without any grants or help of any kind. There were six of us in University together at one stage! My parents and Teresa attended my graduation and joined in the celebrations. I took a summer holiday, most of it with Teresa, and then did a locum in the midlands and earned enough money to pay my way until I got a job in England, which happened on the 1st November, on which date Teresa and I said a sad farewell to one another, and I took the boat to Liverpool en route for Rotherham in Yorkshire, listening to the band on the boat play “Now is the hour for us to say goodbye” all through the journey.
Rotherham was a dreadful city in those days, with coal mining all around and coal dust constantly in the air, and to make things worse there were dozens of steel chimneys belching smoke to mingle with that dust. It was a most unhealthy atmosphere and a large proportion of the population suffered from chest diseases of one kind or other. Poverty was evident in the majority of the population but in spite of that people were generous, kind and hard working. They tried to escape from the depressing atmosphere at the weekend by spending every penny they had on beer and getting very drunk, so that on Saturday night one would find people drunk and sick all over the streets, and almost without fail I would be called out to a suicide during the night. This meant I had to attend the coroner’s court weekly, in eight months totalling more than I did during the rest of my life in practice. I missed Teresa so much that before Christmas I asked her if she would marry me immediately, although we had no money and no home. She agreed without hesitation and we got married from my brother’s house in Mossley, near Manchester, on the 28th January 1948. Kevin was in practice there and he and his wife Mary put on the reception for us with most of the family present. We had just enough money for a week’s honeymoon in St Anne’s on Sea and returned to Rotherham with exactly £5 left between us, with four weeks to go before I got paid again. There was snow and frost on the ground in Yorkshire that Winter from November until April so I had chains on the wheels of the car, and even with that I slipped and slid down the side streets, struggling to see the dozens of patients who needed attention every day. I found that I was quite a good diagnostician, and over the coming years I came to the conclusion that UCD graduates were better qualified than those of English Medical schools. There were a few things lacking however, experience in giving anaesthetics, doing actual post mortems, and the art of writing actual prescriptions. These were minor things if you like, but essential just the same. I learned two of these from an old dispenser in Rotherham, but never learned how to do a post mortem. I was once instructed to perform one in Ireland but fortunately the Coroner changed his mind before I had to do so.
On 31st May I was offered a partnership to join the father and son who owned the practice. The old father did no work but drew his share of profits, and the son was a cheat, who put fictitious patients on his visiting list every day and also several pubs, where he consumed quite a lot of alcohol, so that he was almost incapable of doing any work in the evening surgery. Consequently I was doing nearly all the work. As the health service was due I considered taking the offer which would have given me a very large income, thinking of staying a couple of years to get a bit of money together and then to head for America, so I told the senior partners that I would consider their offer and let them know in a couple of days. They were astounded that I needed time to think it over and tried to persuade me to give them an answer there and then, but I insisted that I had to discuss it with my wife. It happened to be Teresa’s birthday so when I got home, before I mentioned the offer, I suggested that we should go down town to buy her a birthday present. Teresa’s immediate response was “I don’t want any present, all I want is to get out of this horrible town as soon as possible”. I didn’t tell her of the offer for weeks and I went straight down and gave a month’s notice of my intention to leave. I applied for twelve partnerships and got offers from all, and finally accepted one in Dagenham in Essex, to join a Jewish doctor, offering a very good income and supplying a beautiful house, and promised to start on the 5th July when the health service was starting. Fortunately we went down to London a week early and visited the Jewish doctor, who astounded me by telling me that he had to give a half of my share to a fellow Jew who was a refugee from Europe. I refused to start of course and the doctor told me that he would sue me. Without hesitation I threatened to counter sue for loss of income for every day I would be out of practice, which of course created a deadlock. All the other practices were filled and employment was impossible with the onset of the health service, so we had no option but to return to Ireland where we decided to have a very badly needed holiday. We spent the rest of July and some of August with my parents in their nice bungalow in Courtown Harbour, to where they had retired, and then we went to Teresa’s parents, on their farm in Offaly. It became necessary to earn money and look for work as August faded so I took a locum in Celbridge, a small town near Dublin, where Teresa and I stayed in lodgings. On the very first evening I got a call to see Lady Carew, a lovely old lady of 100 years of age, who was in reasonably stable health but who insisted that I should see her every morning and night. She seemed to take a great liking to me and spent a lot of time just holding my hand, and she sent me all her wealthy friends as patients during the five weeks I spent there and warned me to charge her and them really well. I didn’t need much persuasion and left the town with more money than I ever had before. Lady Carew cried when I left and tried to persuade me to stay, saying she would set me up in practice and guarantee my success, but I had signed an agreement not to practice within five miles of the town so regretfully I had to leave.
We decided to return to England late in September and stayed with my brother Kevin in Mossley and did two locums near the area while I applied for assistantships, as partnerships were out of the question so soon after the inception of the health service. Eventually I got an offer of an assistantship, definitely without a view of partnership, to start on the 1st November in Ashford Middlesex. I accepted, thinking to stay a year or two and then go to America, not for a moment realising that it would be my practice for the rest of my working life.
I joined a Dr Pickett, an exceptionally nice man of 58 years, in quite a small practice with approximately 2000 patients. We stayed as paying guests with a pleasant family in a very old house, which had seen better days, but found it very dull as we were expected to be in bed by 10 o’clock at night. After a year I said we would have to leave and go to America as there wasn’t enough income, so Dr Pickett offered me a one third share of the practice, which I accepted, and as he sensed that I still wasn’t happy about the income he raised my share to a half a year later. Our first baby, Marion, arrived on the scene on the10th April 1950, a beautiful little girl who took three days and three nights to make it into the world. We didn’t have enough money to celebrate in any way but we didn’t worry, as we were so happy. It became necessary for us to have our own home, so on the strength of the increase in practice share I approached the manager of the Nat West bank in Staines to ask for a 100% loan. On being asked what security we had I replied “myself and the prospects of taking over the practice in due course” Teresa was asked what furniture she would need, to which she replied “I will not need anything except a bed, two chairs and a table” We got the loan and never had to repay any capital, being asked to pay only the interest, which helped us to survive until I built up the practice. On 14th March 1952 another lovely baby, Sheila, was delivered by me, in our own home, 33 Fordbridge Rd., Ashford, and we were now as happy as it was possible to be, even though we had very little money. Marion was so pleased that as soon as she saw Sheila she brought all her toys and deposited them into the cot as presents. In 1954 we joined Ashford Manor golf club and Teresa wasn’t long in becoming quite proficient at the game and during the next ten years she won almost every cup and prize that could be won in that club and in several golf societies. I became reasonably good and won a couple of things but didn’t really conquer the game until much later in life.
In 1952 I was offered three fifths of the practice, and by accepting this I became senior partner. Between 1948 and 1958 I worked really hard and built up the practice to 6500 patients and established rotas and introduced a nurse and secretary and a practice accountant, so when Dr Pickett retired I was ready to expand and modernise. During these years we made two groups of good friends, one through the National University of Ireland Club and the Irish Club, who were all Irish and mostly either doctors or dentists. We joined both clubs and met there every Thurs and Sat and through these clubs we played golf in their outings to most of the courses around London, followed by dinner and consequently had a lot of fun. Our closest friends were the Burbages and Cassidys and Drislanes, but unfortunately all three men died between 1962 and 1970
Our other group of friends were all English, most of whom we met in the 1940s, and these became our closest friends and we have kept a close relationship with these all our lives, but sadly they are all gradually dying off in recent years. Gil and Pam Bengry, and Bob and Mary Deed we met at least once every week to dine or dance, and with them we went to Point to Point race meetings and to Balls, and we enjoyed many holidays with Gil and Pam in Spain, exploring the Costa Blanca and elsewhere, in the early days before Spain became spoiled. Sadly poor Gil passed away in 2004, quite suddenly, fortunately without suffering. We miss him a lot, as I considered him to be my closest friend.
In 1951 a Dr Clem Geraghty came to Ashford with his wife Eithne, and it was with him that I started a rota. We did not become partners but worked as friendly colleagues and through them we met his brother in law Rory Rooney, and his wife Carmel. It was politic to entertain one another and to keep up friendly relations but we never regarded them as real friends, and it transpired that our children felt that they were being bullied by the slightly older offspring of both couples when they were small, but at the time we never realised that fact.
Teresa had two very close friends in Dublin, Mary Gibson, who married Derry Culligan, with whom we kept in contact throughout our lives, and Peggy Monaghan who married Padraig Ferguson, of whom you will hear later.
In 1958 we had a very sad personal loss, our lovely baby son, Mark, died a day after birth on 1st November – that day again- from a cerebral haemorrhage brought on by a difficult delivery. It was terrible experience and it took us a long time to come to terms with it, and it took great courage for Teresa to decide to have another child. Fortunately she found the strength to do so, and Claire was born on 30th January 1962, another lovely girl. We are blessed with three beautiful children, not in any way alike, and all extremely clever and successful and we are very proud of all of them.
In 1960 I made contact with the chief nursing officer and arranged to have two full time district nurses attached to my practice on a trial basis, and this was so successful that they then gave me two attachments of health visitors. This enabled me to start preventive medicine, by starting screening sessions for almost everything, with wonderful results, and at the same time leaving the doctors free to see serious cases only. In this way patients became very satisfied and the practice grew to almost 8000. Finally I had three doctors as junior partners, three health visitors, three district nurses, two practice nurses, a practice manager, two computer trained girls, and four receptionists. We also had the services of two auxiliary nurses and a psychiatric social worker when we needed them. We became fully computerised shortly afterwards, the second in the country, long before either the local hospital or public health. As a result we had a much bigger income, great job satisfaction, and the knowledge that we were giving a great service to our patients. Towards the end of my career we even had the consultants coming to see our patients in our premises, cutting out waiting lists at hospitals. As a result of all this we succeeded in reducing strokes from three per year to one in fifteen years, reducing heart attacks dramatically and also deaths from lung diseases including Bronchitis, Cancer and Emphysema. Screening for Cancers of the breast and cervix also produced early treatment due to early detection of abnormality.
During my career I had over twenty doctors working for me or with me, some of them excellent and some indifferent, and some with personality or health disorders. My final partners, Asu Das and Peter Draper were excellent and I was pleased to leave the practice in their capable hands. It is sad however to see the sorry state of affairs that
The Labour government has made of the health service, including general practice.

Our Homes
In 1958 we bought Birchwood, no 2 Fordbridge Rd Ashford, having to overbid the Post Office who were interested, and getting the opportunity to do so because Dr Pickett had promised me first refusal. Teresa and I had spotted development potential from the first time we saw it and were prepared to borrow to the limit to acquire it, and actually had to take a huge loan on top of what we owed on our previous home, which didn’t sell easily. Having exchanged contracts Mrs Pickett said that while she liked me as a man, she hated to sell her lovely home to an Irishman, and worse still to a Catholic! This was the only time I experienced bigotry of any kind in England. The house was a six bed-roomed home with three reception rooms, set across the corner of the main street on almost two acres with a lovely garden. To lessen my debt I sold off two plots on the residential road for two nice houses and as the income increased I paid off the loan fairly quickly and we enjoyed six happy years before looking for development. There was a separate entrance to the practice rooms, so disturbance to the home was minimal. During these years Teresa was very involved in practice matters and telephone manning, and without her help life would have been much more difficult.
We got the planning permission we wanted without difficulty, but now had to find alternative premises for the practice and fortunately the house which was built on the site I had sold became available and the owner accepted my offer, which was a little above the asking price. It was obligatory to live within two miles of the centre of the practice in those days, so we then looked around every house within a two mile radius to see if we could do the same again, finding twelve with possibilities, and we wrote to all the owners offering to buy. We got one reply from the owner of a lovely house on the river, Beechtree House in Laleham, again with two acres of garden, and once again we had to pay a little over the odds to acquire it. It was a lovely home to live in and we enjoyed eight years there. It was easy to divide up the garden keeping privacy, consequently soon after taking possession I built three houses, two of which I sold off easily, but the third didn’t sell until we extended it to a four bed roomed home, which then sold without delay. At the end of the eight years we applied for planning consent to build eight town houses on the main road and four detached houses on the river, with access from a side road. Having got this permission I sold it all off to a developer and looked for a house in the Wentworth area. We never had any real interest in the river although at one time I though of buying a boat which would serve on the river and yet could be towed to the Mediterranean. Having found exactly what I wanted, a lightweight unsinkable with sleeping facilities for five and easy to tow, I told the family, and was astonished that they all agreed that they would have no interest. That was the end of my boating career!
I put in an offer for six acres of land around and with the manor house, which is now Foxhills, and was in negotiations to buy it when we found Bluebell Wood, a magnificent house on the East course in Wentworth by sheer accident. We went into Chancellors in Virginia Water at five minutes to closing time on a Saturday and were told that there was nothing new on the market, but as we were leaving were told that there was a rumour that Bluebell Wood would be coming for sale soon. The agent then gave us an old brochure showing the house and cottage, and we went immediately to see it from the outside, and immediately fell in love with it. We knocked at the door but got no reply, so next morning Teresa went to see it alone, with my agreement that if the inside of the house was as good as the outside she should agree to buy it immediately. The interior of the house was even better than expected so Teresa agreed to the asking price and shook hands with the vendor, a Mrs Slater. Next day the senior agent in Chancellors tried to say that the price didn’t include the cottage. But we had the old brochure to show that this wasn’t so and Mrs Slater agreed that the house was sold to us and we took possession in April 1972.
It was a most magnificent home with five large bedrooms, three on suite, four large reception rooms and a large kitchen, all set on three and a half acres of beautiful garden rolling down to the golf course. There was an acre under wood bordering on the course with thousands of Daffodils to which I added 2000 myself, the flowering of these was followed by thousands of Bluebells from which the house got its name, and these Bluebells were in turn followed by ferns. All this area was surrounded by Azelias and Rhododendrons, which helped to make it all a wonderful spectacle when in bloom. There was also a formal Rose garden with Yew hedge surround and an ornamental pond stocked with fish. The cottage had it’s own entrance and garden and there were two greenhouses and a large double garage approached from a York stone courtyard through antique iron gates. We were lucky to have a great gardener, Tad Szadorski who had been with us since 1958, but I still had to do a lot of work in the garden myself, to maintain three and a half acres.
Teresa became very active in Wentworth Club and soon became lady captain, the first Irish person to do so, and we were all very proud of her and she continued winning many competitions. As we were both golfers this was our dream house and we had sixteen years there enjoying every moment of it. It was perfect for entertainment and Teresa was famous for her wonderful parties and dinners. In 1973 Marion got married in Ireland where we had the reception and a party down the country for the many people who couldn’t attend the wedding. However in Bluebell Wood we had another wedding party, which coincided with our 25th anniversary, for all our friends. Among the guests were Michael and Kathleen Clancy, whom we had met the year before through Derry Culligan and these two were to become our close friends for many years until unfortunately Michael died from a heart attack. Kathleen remains a close friend as I write. I will enlarge on our friendship later.
To prevent the cottage from deteriorating we rented it out for several years to a very nice American couple Mr and Mrs Helms, closely related to the famous Richard Helms of the CIA.
In 1973 we also bought a fine Georgian house in Dublin, close to Dun Laoghaire and divided it into three flats, two of which we gave to Marion as a wedding present, renting out the third for a couple of years before allowing Marion and her husband John to buy it at a very reduced price. Unfortunately things didn’t work out well for the young couple and they separated, with Marion being left very badly off, while the equity of the house was diverted to John’s mother’s house. Today the house we bought would be worth £3,000000 and should still be in Marion’s possession.
Michael Clancy had a nice holiday home in Lahinch in the west of Ireland in Co Clare and in 1974 we were invited to stay with him for two weeks. We were very impressed with the area and decided to buy a site on the golf course close to Michael’s and with his help we found a builder and I designed a house which was built without problems during the following months. It was a beautiful house with five bedrooms three bathrooms, two large reception rooms and a large kitchen with a golf course directly behind and the championship course immediately in front, with a magnificent view of both. We enjoyed many good holidays there at all seasons of the year often in the company of Michael and Kathleen Clancy and frequently with Tim and Anna McHale, finding the course very challenging because of the wind and rain from the Atlantic, but having to cope with atrocious weather, no matter what time of year we were there. Unfortunately my good friend Michael died in 1985 and a combination of that and the weather persuaded us to sell the house. We made a nice profit and decided to confine ourselves to the continent for holidays in future.

In 1968 we bought a very nice little flat with three bedrooms and a very large living room with a large balcony overlooking the harbour, from which a big fishing fleet operated. It was situated on an isthmus in Ifach with the famous Penon D’Ifach at the end of the isthmus, with the most magnificent view from both sides, of both sea and mountains, and we had a lift bringing us directly down on to the beach. Ifach is a mile and a half away from Calpe in Spain, and in those days the whole area was completely unspoiled, with almost nobody on any of the three beaches. The swimming was wonderful, on one side we could swim into Calpe, a mile there and a mile back, and from the big beach we could swim around the Penon and back, a swim of about four miles. I took all my holidays together in those days and in that way was able to spend six weeks at a time in Spain. Claire had most of her childhood holidays there and she and I swam and snorkled around that Penon every day and often climbed it, not an easy climb of just over 1000 meters. Our good friends Gil and Pam had a flat there, and later they converted an old farmhouse into a lovely villa, so over these years we enjoyed their company and had many very memorable evenings out together. From our balcony we could watch the catch from the boats and select our fish as it appeared and just go down in the lift to bring it up for the grill! Claire and her friend Teresa, who often joined us for holidays, had trips out with the fishermen in the trawlers, and she and I had trips with a young Spaniard in a small trawler, catching plenty of fish, which we then took up into the mountains where we had a barbecue. Gil and I climbed all the foothills of the mountains of the nearby Sierra Bernia, looking for suitable sites to build villas. Eventually we found two lovely sites a hundred yards apart with views over the valley and the sea and with the mountain towering behind. We contacted the developer, an Englishman, who promised to build for us the following year, but unfortunately his wife died later that Autumn, so the development never took place. With Gil and Pam we often visited plots1 and 2, as we called them, by moonlight as we returned from our various restaurants, to admire the view at night. When Claire became eighteen and no longer wanted to spend holidays with us, we decided to sell, and to look for a place on a golf course, and we were fortunate to find a doctor who bought it on first sight. This was in 1978 and we were happy to make a very good profit, which took us to our next project. We loved the place and often visited there over the next fifteen years and saw it develop and gradually become spoiled like most of Spain today. In May 1978 Michael Clancy invited us to stay in the villa, which he had just bought in Villamartin at the lower end of the Costa Blanca. It was on an excellent golf course in a completely unspoiled area, and as we were looking for a place we looked around and found a perfect three bed -roomed apartment on a hill directly on the golf course with a wonderful view. Several of our friends already had or acquired apartments or villas in the area, so that we had great fun and plenty of golf during the next twenty years. Unfortunately poor old Michael didn’t live to enjoy much of it though Kathleen continued to join the group there. Eventually of course like the rest of Spain it became spoiled with excessive building, and golf became almost impossible, and as Marion and Stephen didn’t play golf we asked them if they would like to buy it. They were delighted and enjoyed the place until the area became completely overcrowded and traffic impossible so four years later they were forced to sell.
In 1986 I began to plan for retirement and as our gardener Tad Szadorski had died, leaving me to look after over three acres of garden, we decided to sell Bluebell Wood. We were lucky to find the penthouse apartment in which we live, Richmond House, Sunningdale. We bought it from the plan and were able to arrange our own floor space, and in that way we got large rooms and high vaulted ceilings and a large roof garden. It has been a great success and we have been very happy here.

Investments
In 1963 we bought a farm in Co Offaly near Teresa’s parent’s home and her brother Willie agreed to look after it for us and to buy, fatten and sell cattle. A few years later we bought a second farm with the same agreement and continued making some money from cattle until poor Willie developed Malignant Melanoma and died. We sold one farm at a good profit and kept the other as Teresa’s nephew agreed to look after it. We allowed him to run some of his own cattle on it and all went well for about five years. When land prices went very high we decided to sell it and found a ready purchaser, but Teresa’s nephew wasn’t pleased, feeling that he had some right to it himself so he did his best to disrupt the sale, even involving the Land Commission. We were lucky to get the sale through, with significant profit.
During this time I ventured into a partnership with a Dr John O’Sullivan importing cattle into England, and for this purpose we rented land in Norfolk and we both took beautiful country cottages where we spent some very pleasant long weekends and did some shooting. We took seventy- five cattle over first, intending to keep them for three months and then sell them at a big profit and also gain a subsidy on each beast. Unfortunately there was a very bad drought and the grass became very scarce so we tried everything including hay, pea greenery, and later straw, but we had to sell cattle some at a big loss, some breaking even and some at a profit. In the end we made the large sum of twenty pounds in profit after paying expenses. So much for cattle!
In 1973 we explored Sligo,at the invitation of Patrick Ferguson, of whom I have already spoken. Sligo and its surrounds were very beautiful and we were encouraged to invest in the area, and as we were partially independent of medicine, we decided to do so. I found rooms in which to practice medicine and bought a lovely site on a hill overlooking the lake and the mountain, Ben Bulbin, planning to build a villa. I also bought a bakery in partnership with Ferguson, whose wife I had saved from death a few years earlier, and I also paid a deposit on a site, where we intended to build apartments. When we returned to England and sat at the fire one Autumn evening, we both came to the same conclusion, that we didn’t really want to leave our nice home, our practice and all our friends. We sold the sites but kept the bakery for about eight years, as it was a good money- spinner. Towards the end of that period I discovered that two sets of books were being kept and income had dropped to nil, so I decided to sell my share. It was very sad having to suspect a friend and in the end I had to threaten to take him to court, and with our solicitors it was finally agreed that I should get my original investment back plus interest. The lesson to learn is never to go into business with friends and to keep full control of any project oneself. We never saw those erstwhile friends again.

Racing
My first experience of the sport of kings was when I was fifteen. When I was returning to boarding school my father stopped to get some petrol and met a friend who was going to Carlow where my school was. This man suggested that I should return to school with him to save my father the journey. As we neared the school he said it was a pity that I would miss the races next day. A little later he said that I should stay the night with his family and go racing with him and that he would leave me into school next evening. This we did, and next day I had my £1 pocket money for the racing and managed to leave the racetrack with £45!
My second experience was with Teresa, when I took her to Fairyhouse, with the large sum of £5 in my pocket, having made it playing poker. We planned to go out for a meal that evening, something that we couldn’t often do, but after all £5 was a lot of money! Having lost a little on the first few races we met the five card trick men with their scam, and being convinced that I could find the elusive queen I lost all my money. I was very disconsolate and walked on, kicking the grass, and found a half a crown and on looking around found seven more, which meant I now had £1. This I put on a horse called National Lad, which won at eight to one. I then put £5 at even money and won again! I finished with a £10 winner at five to one, so went home winning £50!
The next experience of note was in Ashford in Dec the first year we were there. My father sent me two tips, one for Russian hero in the Grand National which was 100 |1 anti post and the other for Fair Judgment which was 25|1 in the Lincoln. I put £5 on each and didn’t know enough to do a double. They both won! My information had been given to a lot of people, so the bookie paid me out, but failed to do so for many people and as a result he went bankrupt. With my winners I bought my first motor- car, an Austin.
During the next six years we visited Ascot races with Marion and Sheila when they were young and went to the Royal meeting on the heath, having seen the Queen and her guests change from their cars into the carriages. On a couple of occasions the Queen patted the girls on their heads and admired their dresses. One day the Queen spoke to the Duke of Edinburgh, and Marion said, “did you hear the Queen saying, did you see Marion’s pretty hair”? We also took them to Goodwood, where we enjoyed picnics before and after the races, and there we met a good friend of the famous Darky Prenderghast, who gave us many good winners. When the children got bigger we became members of Ascot and started to go to the Royal Enclosure for the Royal meeting. We also started to go to the big Cheltenham meeting for the three days, staying at the Queen’s Hotel. We never missed Cheltenham for forty- five consecutive years and actually got a big write up in both the Irish and English papers! We attended Royal Ascot for fifty-one consecutive years until they started to modernise the racecourse and moved the meeting to York! Benny Burbage joined us in Cheltenham for several years, going dancing with us in the evenings and dining in all the good restaurants in the surrounding towns. After Benny died Gil and Pam Bengry and Bobby and Mary Deed came with us and we had many great picnics before the actual races, almost floating into the scene. In 1975 I suggested to Michael Clancy, Derrick Russell and Tim Mc Hale that they should join us at Cheltenham, which they did, staying with us in the Queen’s Hotel. The weather that year was the worst you could imagine, so Michael organised a box in a hospitality tent the following year where we were able to entertain and where we had our own bookie. We did this for several years until Tim Mc Hale got a box overlooking the track for the Allied Irish bank, who employed him as a manager in Bruton St. We were his guests there for the rest of our trips to Cheltenham.
In 1973 Michael Clancy invited us to join him in his box at Ascot and was kind enough to invite us to almost every meeting there until he died. Kathleen continued to entertain us there until the new development took place. Through Michael we met the Russells, the Mc Hales, and the Wogans and we have continued to be friendly ever since. We were at Royal Ascot one very wet day about ten years before we met Michael. I went to the £5 window to place a bet with the Tote, wearing a black coat buttoned up to the neck. As I turned away the girl behind the window said, “ I hope you will be lucky father”. I made the sign of the cross over her and said “God bless you my child” The man leaving the window beside me said “you are one of us then”, and asked me to join him for a coffee. When I did so I had to tell him that I wasn’t a priest and he was very amused. We became very good friends over the next ten years and it transpired that he was a missionary priest travelling all over the country and consequently meeting all the Irish trainers, jockeys and head lads. From them he got information that was invariably good and he passed it on to me, so I got anything from one to four winners every week. I didn’t gamble heavily but managed to win quite a lot of money every year, which paid for many expensive holidays. Unfortunately the priest, Father Cantwell, rang me one day to tell me that he was being made a Canon and that he would have to give good example and not go racing any more. It certainly was great while it lasted.
I had another five years of good information from the famous the official Irish handicapper’s brother, Paddy Byrne, who was a great friend of mine, and who was friendly with the famous Vincent O’Brien. We were lucky enough to get all ten of his winners at Royal Ascot the year he broke the record. We made enough money to more than pay for Sheila’s wedding, which took place that Saturday.
One final source of information was from a private patient of mine, a man who paid large sums of money to head lads for the information, and then gambled heavily on the horse involved. He passed on the name to me when he had his money placed with the bookies, having eight men ranged up to approach the bookies at the same time to get the best odds. We both made a lot of money for two years until the big owners laid traps through the head lads, resulting in big losses. My patient gave up racing altogether.
In 1963 we bought a horse called Kay’s Vulgan, through the famous horse dealer Jack Doyle. We had it trained by Paddy Slater in Ireland and it had its first race in Dundalk, which it won easily, but unfortunately was disqualified for interfering with the next two horses. It was placed last. Soon afterwards we went to the big meeting in Killarney, where we were told that it would certainly win, and that I should gamble enough money to get my purchase price back. I was introduced to a bookie who took us out to dinner the night before the race and who told me that he would give me even money that evening, but that it would start at money -on next day. I took the big bet, having won over the first two days of the meeting, mostly through information from the stable. Next day it rained heavily so we had umbrellas etc., Kay’s Vulgan came over the last fence fifteen lengths ahead and came into the straight near the rail. Someone let up an umbrella, frightening the horse, which turned at right angles allowing the following horse to catch up. They raced in beside one another and we won by a short head! During the next two years we had great fun racing our horse all over Ireland. We had two wins, ten seconds and nine thirds, after which we were advised to sell. Taking everything into account, including information from the stable, we just about broke even. However we had great fun while it lasted.
There is one other story about racing. In Cheltenham on the Thursday in the days before credit cards I was with Teresa in a shop feeling a bit bored and sitting down while Teresa browsed. As I watched a man nearby selected a dress for his wife after a lot of searching and produced his cheque- book to pay. The attendant said she couldn’t possibly accept it, and no matter what the man said she wouldn’t budge. He said he couldn’t go back to Ireland without a present for her and looked so disappointed that I said “I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation, and I am prepared to pay the lady for you and you can give me your cheque”. He was very pleased and said “I will return a favour for you and give you the winner of the big race today, Put on a big bet as it will win.” At the track the horse, whose name was The Boll Weavel, was quoted at 33 \ 1 but I managed to get the bookie to give me 50\1 As they came over the last our horse was leading but it made a mistake and slipped and was just beaten. However I had backed it £100 each way, which meant I had won £1250. It just shows you that you can trust some people! For years we went to Kempton Park on Boxing Day until it got overcrowded and the same thing applied to the Derby where we enjoyed many good days, particularly when the children were young.

Golf
Teresa and I started golf in 1951 and after learning how to hit a ball we went to Bill Cox for lessons. Having taken Teresa for an hour he said he would have her playing to single figures, and playing for the county within a year. After my hour with him he asked me if there was any other game I was interested in? Teresa went on to win almost every cup and prize in Ashford Manor Golf club, where she also joined the committee. She later joined Wentworth Golf club and became the first Irish person to be Lady Captain – a great honour! She also won many cups and prizes there and also at several golf societies where she was a member.
I remained an average golfer for years, but got my handicap gradually down to 12, winning a few things along the way. After I retired my golf improved immensely and I actually got down to 9 for a while and won several competitions. With Michael Clancy and a group of friends in England we formed a friendly society, calling ourselves The Doves. At the same time our friend Derry Culligan formed a similar society in Ireland, calling themselves The Goats. We had eight on each team and our wives played golf also. We met for competitions for a week each year either in England or Ireland, playing for a shield of a goat’s head, and had great fun, serious golf, but great hospitality and wonderful parties We had a few trips abroad together for golf and again with good fun. Michael Clancy and I, with our wives, had several golf trips to Spain, Portugal, and Ireland where we played in most of the better clubs, and in Portugal we played with the famous Henry Cotton! I qualified once to play in the Smurfit Golf Day in the K Club where I got second prize in the morning, and where my brother, Billy and I got second prize in the foursomes in the afternoon. I also had the honour of playing with the equally famous Bernhard Langer in Moore Park on the day he broke the course record. Michael Clancy made up the team with us and we came second as a team overall.

Holiday.
During our first eight years of marriage we had very little money and were confined to holidays in Ireland, spending two weeks with my parents in Courtown Harbour by the sea and two weeks with Teresa’s parents in Offaly on the farm. We had lovely times and Marion and Sheila enjoyed the farm and animals and the seaside, though having to put up with the very cold water when swimming.
We took them both on our first long holiday abroad in 1962 staying in Zarauz in the Basque region, where I taught them how to swim properly and to surf ride. The following year we returned there, but as the weather was bad, we drove on down to Portugal and continued along the coast, eventually staying in Sesimbra, south of Lisbon, in the days before the bridge over the Tagus. It was a most wonderful holiday and we found the people friendly and hospitable and the most we spent was £7 per day, including two double rooms with balconies, and all food included, with wine for both lunch and dinner. Claire was with us as a baby of 18 months. The following year we returned there and were welcomed by hundreds of people waiting for us on the hillside. They took the girls onto their shoulders and carried them into town. Again we had a wonderful holiday and this time even Claire learned to swim, at two and a half years of age. The following year we drove to Italy over the St Goddard pass, and through the Dolomites, down the Adriatic coast and on to Rome, where we had an audience with the Pope and visited Castel Gondolfo. We even swam in the Pope’s private lake, without his permission of course. We saw all the wonderful sights of Rome and the Vatican and then travelled home along the Mediterranean coast visiting Pisa en route. The next trip was to Majorca where we took a villa in Cala D’Or for six weeks. Claire managed to swim all the way across the bay. I gave my junior partners the same length holidays as I took myself, so I could then take six weeks at a time without causing ill feelings. We spent the holidays over the next four years touring Europe in a caravan, visiting Belgium, Holland, Germany, Austria, Switzerland, France, Spain and Portugal, so that we managed to see most of the sights of all of these places. One of the most memorable was to take the caravan over the Abatone Pass in Italy, arriving in Abatone at midnight and being lifted shoulder high next morning and taken to the mayor to celebrate the fact that we were the first people to take a caravan over the pass!. It took us all day to descend to Pisa on the other side next day, having to manhandle the van over innumerable sharp hairpin bends.
On another occasion we camped on a supposedly extinct volcano in Sulfatara near Posuoli in Italy. One week after we left it erupted, destroying the site and a lot of the surrounding town. A small island to which we swam every day disappeared completely. One year we had a semi- private audience Pope John Paul 2nd. We were in Lido de Jesolo near Venice the year of the torrential floods, when Florence was damaged so badly. We had to drive at five miles per hour through eighteen inches of water for hours to get out of the flood. I think these trips gave our children a great sense of adventure and made them very independent, as well as giving them a great knowledge of Europe, and the confidence of handling people of all nationalities. We had looked for sites to build a villa in every country, even in Corsica, where we had a holiday with Marion and Claire. After many superb holidays with Sheila and Marion the time came when they wanted to go with their friends. I found a lovely apartment in Ifach near Calpe, with a superb view of the rock of Ifach, over 1000 feet high, and of a big bay on both sides, as it was situated on an isthmus. We had a lift directly down to the beach, wonderful swimming and snorkelling and great meals, mostly of fish, which we picked directly from the trawlers as they came in. At that stage of my life I swam anything from four to six miles per day with Claire, snorkelling right around the rock and back, and also across the bay and into Calpe town. Our friends Gil and Pam joined us on many of these holidays. Marion and John had some of their honeymoon there, and Sheila and Pete and their family spent many memorable holidays there. Marion also spent several short holidays with us there.
Eventually Claire wanted to spread her wings, so we were alone on our main holidays for the first time. As the beach wasn‘t important any more and our interest was golf, we sold the apartment and bought a beautiful three bed-roomed apartment on Villamartin golf course. This was a great success for ten years until it became spoiled by over development and too many people of the wrong type. However we had a great innings there and Sheila and Pete had many great holidays when their children were young. Marion also joined us on several occasions and eventually bought it from us when we found it difficult to get onto the golf course. During these years we had many trips overseas. We went to the Far East in 1970, visiting Hong Kong, where we stayed in the Peninsula Hotel, which is supposed to be the best in the world. We went on to Singapore and from that to Bangkok where we stayed in the Oriental Hotel, one of the best six in the world. This was a trip of a lifetime!
We had a great tour of the Canyon Lands in America where we saw the Grand Canyon, Brice Canyon, Zion Park and Lake Powell. We took a trip in a Chesna plane over the Grand Canyon and on over the Painted Desert and on to Monument Valley, where we met the chief of the Navaho tribe and had a conducted tour. We went white water rafting down a bit of the Colorado, and went boating down the lake. We visited Las Vagas, and also on the same trip we went to Yosimite, where we stayed in the famous Awanee Hotel. This trip was one of the best!
The next trip of consequence was to Egypt with Billy and Peggy. Again this was a trip of a lifetime. We stayed in Cairo and saw the Pyramids and Sphynx and visited the museum. We took a boat trip down the Nile and visited all the major sites, staying in Luxor and Aswan, being very impressed with the tombs and temples, particularly Karnac and Luxor. We took a small plane to Abu Simbal to see the temple there, and from there we flew to Cairo and home. Our next major holiday was over the Rockies, having flown to Calgary where we joined a coach trip, visiting Bamph, Jasper, Kamloops and Whistler and continuing to Vancouver. From there we took a sea- plane around the islands and landed in Victoria to tour the island. We had planned to carry on to Alaska but felt a bit tired so we flew home. We had two trips to Toronto and Niagara Falls, and a couple of trips to New York, on one of which we stayed in the famous Westin Plaza Hotel. We also visited New Orleans, which was very disappointing. We had a couple of memorable trips around Ireland, being very taken with Kerry and Cork, finding the scenery wonderful and the food magnificent.
We had holidays in Corfu and in Crete, which we thoroughly enjoyed, but we had a disappointing trip to Madeira, which we found to be uninteresting, even though we stayed in the famous Reed’s Hotel. The last trip I will mention was to my friend Des Mc Conn’s wedding in Brittany. It was a truly magnificent affair lasting all day. We had twenty- one different courses, each with three different wines, and followed by dancing and late supper. We went on to Paris with Mc Conn and his new wife at their insistence and had a great week, starting a love affair with Paris, which has lasted ever since. We always stopped in Paris for a few days on our various trips. I think I can safely say that I am the only one who has parked a caravan on the Place de la Concord all day without getting a ticket!



Teresa:
I have already given a lot of information about my lovely wife, Teresa. Her maiden name was Colgan and she was born and brought up in Co Offaly, Ireland, where her family were farmers, and where her forebears had farmed for generations. The original Colgan had been King of Leinster in the early fifth century, and had settled in Offaly when defeated in battle. Teresa was educated in The Convent of Mercy, Moate, and later joined the Civil Service in Dublin. She met me a year later and helped with my study of Medicine. After over three years courtship we married and we have shared our lives ever since. She has been a wonderful wife to me, and mother to our three children. She has impeccable taste and dress sense, and has been a great hostess, renowned for her dinners and parties. Her love of antiques has helped with her furnishing of our lovely homes, and she has enjoyed the acquisition of every item. She has excelled at golf, winning many cups and prizes, and she has the honour of having been Lady Captain of the prestigious Wentworth Club, the first Irish person to be selected. She has also been an excellent Bridge player and has enjoyed with me many competitions and trips both at home and abroad. She is kind and gentle and loving and I consider myself lucky to have been able to share my life with her.


Our Children.

Marion.

Marion was born after a prolonged labour, lasting three days and nights, in the Woking Maternity Hospital. She was a beautiful baby who gave us very little trouble as a child. She went to St Teresa’s Convent for her early school days and later to St Maur’s Convent in Weybridge, firstly as a day- girl and later as a boarder. She became head girl and was the first to lead the girls, to join with the boys, in St George’s College, also in Weybridge. She got first class results in her A- Level exams and got a place in Trinity College Dublin to read English and French. Again she graduated with honours and went on to study for M. A. and H Dip degrees. She met and married John Armstrong, a journalist with the Irish Times, at this stage and soon afterwards produced her first daughter, Katy. The young family went to Oran, where Marion became a lecturer in English, and where she also became expert in Yoga, having learned it from a fellow lecturer. On her return to Ireland she eventually joined the School of Languages and quickly got promotion and soon became second in seniority. She also became one of Ireland’s leading Yoga experts and continued practicing it for years. A few years later she brought her son David into the world, and not long after that Rachel was born. Marital problems led to a separation from John, but despite many difficulties and financial worries she succeeded in bringing her children to adulthood, as well educated, responsible and caring individuals. She lectured in University College Dublin and in Dublin University at various times. Bad health led to a change in career, which resulted in having to become a psychotherapist, so that she could work from home, a job at which she has been extremely successful. After several years she and John divorced. She has now just retired and has found an extremely nice man, Stephen, to share her life. She is a very intelligent person and has a very happy disposition, which has been a great help to her during the many set backs she has endured. Katy married a promising young architect and lives in Dublin. David is working at town and country planning, and after a year’s experience in Dublin, has started working in London. Rachel is studying to be a teacher in London, with the intention to specialise in Dyslexia. She has a fine young boyfriend.




Sheila

I delivered Sheila myself in our first house, 33 Fordbridge Rd Ashford, after an easy labour. She was another lovely baby, not at all like Marion, but equally beautiful. She was a very happy child and thrived from the start, becoming almost inseparable from Marion during their early years. She also went to St Maur’s Convent, Weybridge, and later to St George’s College, from which she graduated with honours. She went on to study Dentistry in Birmingham, getting a first class degree. After a short break she started in practice in Oatland’s Park, near Weybridge, where she became most successful. She later moved her practice to New Haw, near Woking, and continued her success until her retirement, which was necessary due to postural problems. Sheila met her future husband, Pete, while in Birmingham and married him shortly after graduation, and in due course produced three lovely children, Kerry, and twins, Lisa and Gemma, all of whom have grown into well adjusted, talented and caring individuals. Pete is a chartered accountant and worked in the corporate field for several years. They have recently started a business importing goods from the Far East, and we all wish them every success. Sheila has inherited her mother’s ability at golf, and following in her mother’s footsteps, has also had the distinction of becoming Lady Captain of Wentworth Golf Club. She has an excellent singing voice and has once had the honour of singing a solo in The Albert Hall. She is a very intelligent person and could have been successful at almost anything. Their three daughters are very attractive and we hope to follow their careers with great interest.



Mark

Our son Mark was born on 31st Oct 58, but unfortunately died from a cerebral haemorrhage the following day. It was a sad blow to us and it took us a long time to come to terms with our loss.




Claire

After the loss of our baby son it took great courage for Teresa to have another baby. Fortunately however she plucked up courage enough to have a Caesearian Section at the Great Northern Hospital in 1962. Our friend John O’ Sullivan operated and presented us with Claire, another lovely girl, again not in any way like her two sisters. From the start she was happy and good- humoured and never gave us a moments trouble. She followed her sisters to St Maur’s and St George’s and went on to study dentistry in Manchester. She practiced this for some years but never really liked it, so she changed careers and went into health care. She was given the opportunity to run BUPA Dental Health Company, but it would have meant moving to live in Bournemouth, which was not acceptable. She then joined Blackwell Health Care and went on to become an account holder. During this time she had met and married David Smyth, a very successful corporate lawyer, working with Barlow, Lyde and Gilbert, one of the biggest firms in London. While living in Teddington she produced her lovely daughter, Anna. Soon afterwards David was offered the post of managing the firm’s office in Hong Kong, a post of great responsibility, so they decided to move out there to live. Having studied Spanish and Italian, and seen Anna through early health problems, she decided to study Psychotherapy and has recently graduated. Claire is a keen sportswoman, promising at golf, and now getting involved in sailing. They have just invested in properties in Wengen, in Switzerland, and apartments in Phucket, near beach and golf. They are an extremely intelligent couple and yet interested in, and good at, sport and it looks as if their daughter Anna, apart from being pretty, will follow in their footsteps in both fields.



We are very fortunate to have three such beautiful and talented daughters and we are very proud of them, and grateful to have had such happiness in helping to form their characters. Our grandchildren are all beautiful and talented and I am very confident of their success. Katy has presented us with a lovely great-grand-daughter, Evie, and we pray to God that we may survive to see our other grandchildren marry and continue to enlarge the family.

3 comments:

Unknown said...

It is so wonderful that you have written this! it is so nice to have it forever and i know i will show my children and they will grow up knowing these stories so well. it makes me very happy to read it.
xxx

Jon Gray said...

Hi,

I've stumbled across this as I was searcing for Tad Szadorski, my grandfather. If the Tad you speak about in your blog of Polish descent and used to live in Englefield Green with Irene before he passed? I know it's a bit of a long shot, but I'd love to know more about him.

Thanks,

Jon
jon_gray@yahoo.com

LOVE AND XXXX said...

I was searching for my family doctor Clem Geraghty. My mother had told me he had died. I was hoping to read his obituary, but haven't found it yet. He was my doctor since 3-5 years old until I went to live in Canada 1974.
He lived in Fordbridge road, Ashford. I am 66 years old now. If you have any information, please would you kindly notify me. cloverstar@rogers.com