Day 218 - Hello Son; it's your Dad.

Heaton Manor High Street

Today's post is a very personal one. For those who have known me over the years, you will know that my father left us when we were kids and, aside from a chance meeting at my mother's place many years later when I was in my 30s, we never saw him again. The title of today's post will only have meaning for a handful of people so my apologies for the use of an inside joke. Regardless of the sins of the father, I did want to take some time while we were in the U.K. to visit the ancestral Walsh home in Stockport, about an hour by train east of Liverpool.

St. Paul's

The Walsh family has its origins in Ireland (the name is the fourth most common after Murphy, Kelly and O'Sullivan) where, thanks to Angela's research, we found that they emigrated to the Stockport area from County Mayo during the Great Potato Famine of the mid-19th century.  At that time the Industrial Revolution had reached its peak and textile mills and related work were everywhere in this part of the U.K.  So, with another sunny day ahead of us, Angela and I set out with the aid of her research results to find the actual addresses where the Walsh's settled.

The Curtis House (white house far right) where
my great grandfather, John, first lived with my great
grandmother, Laura Kate Curtis Walsh.

My great great grandfather, Michael Walsh, was the one who came over to Stockport and their house was on Water St. in the north end, right across the street from the Meadow Mill.  Today the site is a Tesco parking lot so there was no house to see, but I can guess that it was likely worker's housing for the mill.  The mill still exists and resembles most of the mills in the area.

One of the mills in
Heaton Chapel today

His son, my great grandfather, was John Walsh and he lived initially with my great grandmother Laura (nee Curtis) in her parent's house on Derby Range in the northern Stockport area known as Heaton Manor. The area is quite nice with lots of trees and quaint shops and cafes. Angela and I visited the nearby Parish Church, St. Paul's, where my great Aunt Bessie Curtis was married. Around that time my other great aunt, Dora Curtis, was born, although one suspects if in fact she might have been the daughter of one of the older Curtis girls, perhaps Bessie -- oh if the walls had ears.  In any case, Dora was the first relative on my father's side that I remember meeting, as we would visit her house (and chicken coops) in the countryside around Windsor, Connecticut where she had followed her American husband Oscar Johnson (perhaps a doughboy) immediately after the First World War. I can remember her writing us all the time when we were children and sending us an American five dollar bill on our birthdays.

The birthplace of my father

Eventually John and Laura moved into a neighbouring area known as Heaton Chapel where their son, my grandfather Richard and the source of my middle name, lived and where in that house my father, an only child, was born.

My grandfather was a telegraph operator for the Post Office and eventually he and my grandmother, Elsie (nee Edwards) moved to a more affluent area of Heaton Chapel where they lived until they died. I would eventually meet by grandfather, Richard, shortly after meeting great Aunt Dora, when he visited us in Canada prior to his death in 1969.

Until now, I have had no reason to visit this area and even though my relationship with my father was non-existent, it was fascinating to see what the area looked like and to imagine my ancestors working in the mills and drinking in the local pubs that still exist today.

 Ale of the Day: Crown Best Bitter, Stockport Brewing Company,  Stockport, Lancashire