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We missed each other by three years, he died a tragic and accidental death at the age of 60 in 1944, as I was born in 1947.
All I knew of him was that he worked as a window cleaner, he had red hair and a talent for drawing, the later two of which I inherited, as did my cousin Carol whose grandfather he was also. He loved birds and reared them in cages at home...........what species of bird is still a mystery, except to say they were not pigeons! They were a breed of singing birds, perhaps linnets.
Mother, when asked, would always say that her father never spoke of his father, which led me to believe rather naively that there lurked some deep, dark unspoken secret, which must never be mentioned for fear of upsetting the apple cart!
When pressed further she became adamant that she nor her siblings ever knew why!
And so, the mystery only added to the aura which surrounded my grandfather.
At the outset of my research a mere 4 years ago, I was determined to discover as much as I could of grandfather and his life. To try and dig down into the past where all the burried treasures lay.
After all, when I was born, there was only my maternal grandmother still surviving, of my 4 grandparents.........and she passed away when I was only 10.
So many years having unfolded were passed over and time was running out, I had started this game late on in life, as many of us do. But what a game it has proven to be, one of joy and sadness, surprise and disbelief and still an abundance of unsolved mysteries.
Once unravelled, some of the mysteries of grandfather, I would have to say were shocking (to me), and sad, so sad, my heart felt it would break for him. And yet I was aware, there had been joy and happiness for him which only entered his life upon marriage, and through the adoration of his daughters.
His mother and the man I thought was his father married in 1871 against her fathers wishes. Their daughter was born some 8 years later much to my surprise. Why so long after marriage? a mystery to solve. This was discovered through the census'. He chased the work from one end of the country to another.....as a boiler maker and ship plater, finally ending up in Stockton on Tees Co. Durham.
I can only assume that g grandmother was starved of affection due to the long separations, and subsequently she became pregnant with grandfather, to an unknown man.
Once her husband found out, he took their daughter away from her and settled in Stockton, where he had struck up a relationship with the widowed female he lodged with.
Eventually he went on to marry her bigamously, as there is no divorce registered for him and my g grandmother.
Sadly this meant that grandfather was deprived of sharing in his half sisters life.
The proof came in the pudding when I acquired grandfathers birth certificate, and uncovered the truth, that he was illigitimate.
Grandfather was born in 1883 and by 1901 he was 17 and working as a shop assistant.
His mother was forced to work in the cotton mill to support them and herself all her working life and for propriities sake and to the outside world had become a widow, as my grandfather had taken the Dutton name by default, it still being her married name.
As fate had it, at this time in their lives they had gone to lodge with the family of another widow, who had 3 children to provide for, her husband having died at the early age of 33 from pneumonia.
The widow had 2 daughters and a son. The eldest daughter Maud, was 14, Pheobe was 12 and young Harry 10.
By 1907 Grandfather had married Maud, (my grandmother), another act of fate. And the other widow, Maud's mother and my other g grandmother, I discovered not to be a widow either as she and my g grandfather were unable to marry during his short lifetime.
He had married at 19 to another women from whom there was no divorce, when the marriage failed. But in this case, there was no act of bigamy committed.
His former wife, now living with another man herself, married within 2 weeks of g grandfather's death.
Mother was able to impart one piece of news I did not have to depend on certificates for and that was that grandma Maud was all ready 3 months pregnant when she and grandfather married.
The first glitch in the marriage I can only surmise came from an increased rise in hormones, and the sudden realisation of what was actually happening to them, when Grandma ran home crying to her mother. Her mother refused her access and kept her firmly on the opposite side of the doorstep, harshly informing her that she had made her bed and henceforth had to lie on it!
Six months later Aunt Amelia was born, followed two years later by my mother.
Three years after mother was born, their first son William Charles arrived, only to die in infancy.
I can't imagine anything more painful than to lose a child, grandfather must have been devastated to lose his first son. I know Grandma was broken hearted.
Their second son arrived one year later only to die in infancy too.
He was followed by aunt Maud, then a third baby brother who died aged one year.
Grandma was devastated to have lost all her boys and as if this was not enough, she lost a stillborn daughter at some point in between. I could not begin to imagine grandfathers pain, I have considered whether he ever felt it a kind of punishment for something.
Grandfather worked for the Express window cleaning company in Manchester. Before the days of cradles and harnesses and the like. And part of his job entailed walking along narrow pigeon infested window ledges of some of the higher office blocks in the town centre. He carried his own bucket and ladder as he walked from job to job.
It was February 26th 1944 when tragedly struck. Four months later on June 24th, Mother was due to marry my father, which may at some point, have crossed her mind to postpone.
Mother and her 2 sisters were in awe of their father and adored him greatly, and were duly devastated at the nature of and sudden occurrance of his death.
One family story mother always related of the affection she held for her father was that every morning at breakfast time, Grandfather always had a boiled egg, the only one the purse strings would stretch to. Loving his daughters as he did he could never conceive of eating the whole egg himself and so on alternate mornings, he would remove the top of the egg and give it one of his daughters in turn. I can only imagine that on those mornings that it was their particular turn to get the top of the egg, they must have felt so special, and held aloft in their father's affections.
As the time for grandfathers arrival home from his working day had long since passed, grandma in her anxiety made tracks in the floor of the hallway as she paced up and down to the front door looking up and down the street.
Eventually the news arrived of his accident.
He had been taken to Ancoats hospital, the nearest one to the location of his accident.
He was pronounced dead on arrival, having fallen onto his back, smashing his liver to pieces on the kerbside of the pavement. The details of which were found on his death certificate. Mother attended the inquest with grandma who was unconsolable.
Grandfather was just 60.
Mothers younger sister was the only one to have married which left her and her elder sister still at home. Their brother some 16 years younger than mum, and the only one gran managed to raise to adulthood, was doing his national service.
I expect my father was by now more than a little disconcerted by what may happen next, as coming from the background he had, that of being the youngest of 12 children who never knew his own father, who died when dad was only 5 months old. Would they or wouldn't they marry?
It seems that mother had offered to stay at home and help provide for grandma after her fathers death but, in her anguish, sadness and fear.........gran turned on mother demanding to know what good her paltry pittance would do!
Everyone was hurting and so mother went ahead and married father. Not that she ever regretted it, as they loved each other and besides, neither of them were spring chickens any more. Father being 37 and mother 34 when they got around to it.
I think the most romantic thing father did for mother, as a way of showing his love, was to buy her flowers every saturday, from the local allotments at the bottom of our street. He would press a silver sixpenny piece into my palm and say 'Go and fetch me some flowers for your mother'.
If I happened to be outdoors playing with friends, he would get my brother to go instead. And it wasn't until recently, almost fifty years later, that he told me that when dad asked him to get the flowers, he would only purchase thrupence worth and pocket the other thrupence to get him and his mate Dave into the Saturday flea pit!:D
I reckon dad must have known, there wouldn't have been as many flowers but I reckon the way he looked at it was that my brother was a man after his own heart! Whereas, I'm still left wondering what he may have thought of me, should I have done the same.
Anyway, I digress............too much, as thats another story!
Mothers only surviving brother gave her away on the big day, smartly dressed in his national service uniform at the ripe old age of 18.
I'm sure grandfather was looking down on her and smiling, and maybe regretting not being able to be there. I never got the courage to ask mum what thoughts were going through her head on the day. The wedding photos show clearly a lack of real happiness or excitement in their rather restrained smiles.
Three years later I arrived, all too late to have known such a wonderful man.