Scottish
clan map
Ancestry
Paternal grandfather’s
surname
URE: This is an
ancient Scottish and Gaelic clan surname. However it is of Norse-Viking pre-seventh
century origins, and comes from the name ‘Ivarr’ that was introduced into both Scotland
and Ireland by the Vikings. Because of rebel activity, the use of this surname in
Scotland was forbidden, and family members were obliged to use the name ‘Campbell’
until the punishment was finally lifted in 1780.
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Paternal grandmother’s
surname:
Dow: Not
much is known about the origins of this surname except that it was believed to
have existed in medieval England. It is thought to have been a nickname derived
from the Welsh name ‘Daw’ meaning David Associated with the Buchanan clan.
Maternal grandmother’s
surname:
Risk: Not much is known about this surname although
it is believed to be of Scottish origin. It was first
recorded in Perthshire although the name is much more common in Ireland.
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Maternal grandfather’s surname:
Hamilton: This famous surname has a total of ninety-five Coats of Arms and is of Anglo-Saxon origin. The Hamilton family originally descended from Walter FitzGilbert de Hameldone, a Norman baron who gave his support to Robert the Bruce in the 13th Century.
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Postwar Scotland
World
War II ended May 1945, the year that I was born. I grew up in a town called Grangemouth and my earliest memories date back
to the time when I was three years old and observed my mother carefully handing
over the stamps she extracted from her ration books, in order to buy a few items
of food, items that were very scarce. There was a shortage of sugar and as a
result of this sugar shortage, saccharine was widely used as a sweetener. As a
child I actually liked the aftertaste of saccharin especially when it was used
to sweeten ice cream. The strange thing was that a few years later when the
scarcity of sugar finally ended, I didn’t like the new ice cream, I wanted to
enjoy the taste of saccharine again.
Grangemouth dockyard circa 1950. There were always ships from Europe especially from Germany and Finland. I used to like watching the loading and unloading from high up on a road bridge that afforded a great view of the docks.
Kerse Parish church circa 1902, the church I attended regularly until 1956. This was known as the 'Kirk' and it was very strict in its religeous observances. Men, women and children were expected to wear a hat at all times and the services were solemn and scary. At age eleven I left the church because the teacher refused to allow me to graduate into the bible class with the rest of the children because I was too young. The cut off age was twelve and I was only eleven and a half.
Infant school circa 1957 that I attended from 1950-1952. I loved my teacher Miss Donnan but she died from Polio when the first epidemic swept through town.
The Grange primary school circa 1900, that I attended 1952-57. I enjoyed attending this school except that when I was ten years old I received a punishment called the strap because I was eating candy in the classroom. The teacher used the strap across the palm of my hand. Corporal punishment was allowed in Scottish schools at that time.
Strapping refers to the use of a strap as an implement of corporal punishment. It is typically a broad and heavy strip of leather, often with a hard handle, the more flexible 'blade' being applied to the offender.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Strapping_(punishment)
The High school circa 1900 that I attended 1957-1962. This was not a great experience but I did like my sewing teacher Miss Palmer. I did get the strap once from the Gym teacher when I was about fifteen years old. The teacher decided to punish every girl in the Gym class because we were all laughing at the antics of two. Unfortunately my mother had to take me for medical treatment because the teacher missed my hand and by accident strapped me on the upper arm leaving an inflamed red welt that took weeks to heal.
http://collections.falkirk.gov.uk
Kerse Parish church circa 1902, the church I attended regularly until 1956. This was known as the 'Kirk' and it was very strict in its religeous observances. Men, women and children were expected to wear a hat at all times and the services were solemn and scary. At age eleven I left the church because the teacher refused to allow me to graduate into the bible class with the rest of the children because I was too young. The cut off age was twelve and I was only eleven and a half.
The Grange primary school circa 1900, that I attended 1952-57. I enjoyed attending this school except that when I was ten years old I received a punishment called the strap because I was eating candy in the classroom. The teacher used the strap across the palm of my hand. Corporal punishment was allowed in Scottish schools at that time.
Strapping refers to the use of a strap as an implement of corporal punishment. It is typically a broad and heavy strip of leather, often with a hard handle, the more flexible 'blade' being applied to the offender.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Strapping_(punishment)
http://collections.falkirk.gov.uk
Fortunately
for us the woman who lived across the road raised chickens and so we had a
ready supply of eggs. Because my father didn’t like to eat chicken, we only had
it once a year for Christmas dinner, but the chicken lady used to give me the
chopped off chicken feet to play with after
she killed and sold one, which I thought was a lot of fun. The lady taught me how
to pull the sinews inside the chicken feet and make the claws move as if they were
still alive.
Coal
to heat the house was in short supply and we had a bomb shelter to play in, in
our back yard, but otherwise life to a small child seemed normal except for one
thing. Our annual visit to Edinburgh castle was a sad, sad affair. We used to
take the train into the city, walk the cobblestone roads up the hill to the
castle entrance and after our visit the highlight of the day was to eat a meal
in a proper restaurant before we journeyed home again.
A photo of myself around three years old.
There
were approximately fifty thousand Scottish casualties attributed to the war and
one of those casualties was my uncle Andrew. Andrew, my father’s beloved
younger brother, was ‘best man’ at my parents’ wedding, and when he was lost at
sea, it seemed to me that my father never fully recovered from the calamity. Andrew’s
merchant ship SS Melrose struck a mine in the North Sea in the year 1940, and
his death at the tender age of twenty two was a sadness that my father mourned
for a long time.
My parents wedding photo, date unknown. Andrew is the best man and the bridesmaid was my cousin Isa Hay who died from TB (I think) at a young age.
Andrew's gravestone in Larbert cemetery.
Andrew's ship, SS Melrose
As
a very young child, I can remember visiting the “Scottish National War Memorial”
and the “Hall of Honour” that was located in Edinburgh castle, a place I loved
to visit. Once and once only, I stood and watched my father cry as he carefully
turned the pages of one of the books in the “Hall of Honour” where the names of
the war dead were recorded. I watched as his finger traced through the names
that were written on one special page, the page that recorded the name of his
dead brother Andrew Dow Ure. My father’s finger hovered over the name and then he
wept silently. I learned not to watch the sad spectacle and so thereafter each
time that we visited the castle I was free to spend some happy hours roaming around
the castle, discovering ancient places, gazing at interesting artifacts and
staring over the ramparts at the scenic vista spread out far below the castle
walls.
Andrew's name recorded in the "Hall of Honour" in Edinburgh castle.
My
favorite place in Edinburgh castle was and still is St. Margaret’s chapel which
is the oldest, surviving building in Scotland. It is a very small, free
standing building, with room for only twenty people and it was built around
1124 on the rock that supports Edinburgh castle.
Grandparents
I
don’t know much about my grandparents one of whom died circa 1923 long before I
was born. This was my father’s mother Agnes Dow born circa 1883. Agnes died around age forty from tuberculosis, a disease that was commonly referred to as ‘The Consumption.’
The Ure family. Betty, William, Aunt Bella, Cathy and Belle.
This is my great Aunt Belle who was my grandmother's sister and took care of William, Cathy and Andrew after my grandmother died.
This is my great Aunt Belle who was my grandmother's sister and took care of William, Cathy and Andrew after my grandmother died.
Like
his wife, Agnes’s husband, my paternal grandfather seems to have originated in
the Falkirk area and he was what is known as a “Gaffer” (boss) in the Carron
ironworks. The Carron ironworks was established in 1759 on the banks of the
River Carron, near Falkirk and it was one of the largest ironworks in Europe
throughout the nineteenth century.
Agnes
and William Ure lived in Bainsford, a village one mile north of Falkirk, they had
six children, three boys and three girls but after the death of Agnes, the
family had to be split up. The three younger children William, Andrew and Cathy
went to live with their aunt and the three older children Betty, Alec and Belle
remained with their father. My grandfather was born circa 1875 and died circa
1955 around the age of eighty when I was about ten years old.
I
have good memories of my paternal grandfather who was a very fine old
gentleman. He lived in a two room stone house in Falkirk, near a small candy
shop that I loved to visit, just to stare at all the delicious confectionery
displayed in the front window. I was
never able to buy any of the candy which we children called ‘sweeties’ but as
soon as we stepped into his house, I was always presented
with a very large black and white, sticky, hard candy called a humbug.
The
candy kept our mouths busy and did an excellent job of keeping us quiet for
quite some time although we were allowed to roam the streets freely if we
wanted to play outside. The streets of Falkirk were safe places at that time
and our Aunt Cathy whom we were free to visit, lived nearby. I was very sad
when the old man died.
One
day my parents took us for a last visit to see ‘Grandpa Ure’ but this time he
was laid out in the front room wearing a white nightgown with his arms folded
across his chest and he looked very still and very pale. Needless to say there
were no humbugs given to us that day. We said our farewells, he was buried the
following day and that was that. Later in the week I watched with horror as all
the relatives gathered at my aunt’s house in order to divvy up his belongings.
I just hoped that my mother didn’t take the bed linen and use it on my bed
because I didn’t like the idea of sleeping on sheets that my dead grandfather had
lain on.
Grandfather Ure with his daughter Betty
Close up of Grandfather Ure.
I
knew even less about my maternal grandparents. As far as I know Isabella Risk
born circa 1879 and Alexander Hamilton had always lived in the town of
Grangemouth, although according to a census my maternal grandfather was born
further to the north in Perthshire circa 1878. They lived in a house not far
from us because our family of first four then later five also lived in
Grangemouth. Grangemouth originally a bustling seaport is a town three miles
east of Falkirk and it lies on the banks of the ‘Firth of Forth.’ It’s not a
very interesting town and the last time I went back to visit in 1988, the town
had changed so much that I hardly recognized it. Many of the old streets and
buildings were gone and a new modern town had sprung up to replace the
familiar
areas that I had once known.
My
maternal grandfather survived World War I and I remember hearing that he
developed trench disease and was not able to work. They lived off a small
government pension and when his feet hurt, Alexander Hamilton tied sea sponges
to the soles of his feet which enabled him to walk.
‘Grandpa
Hamilton’ was a kindly old soul but I remember my grandmother as being a somber,
old lady who wore long dark dresses, a shawl and a black straw hat. Their house
was dark, it had ancient plumbing, and I avoided at all costs having to sit in
the front parlor on the scratchy, black horsehair settee that felt so hard and rubbed
so roughly against my legs. It was better to escape into the scullery with my
Grandfather who spent most of his time there, or sometimes in fair weather I
sat outside on the doorstep nibbling one of the plain tea biscuit that my
grandmother kept in a small, silver biscuit barrel on top of the sideboard.
Grandfather Hamilton.
Closeup of Grandfather Hamilton.
My
grandmother died first followed a few years later by my grandfather who spent
some time in a nursing home before the end. I remember the nursing home as a
horrible institution type of establishment where the old men lay in iron beds that
were lined up on both sides of the room, dormitory style. The patients wore striped
pajamas with matching stocking caps and they lay there waiting to die. It was a
grisly place and I couldn’t help wondering why he had to be there but my
questions were ignored and eventually my mother stopped taking me there to
visit.
This is the only photo I have of my Grandmother Hamilton.
One
day my mother casually mentioned that my Grandfather had died but that was it.
There was no more discussion about it because that’s just the way it was back
then. Death was an inevitable part of
life back then as it is now, and the subject of death seemed to be taboo in our
house.
My
maternal grandparents had many children but the only piece of information I
have is that some of them died and only four survived, one of whom was my
mother. The other children died as a result of the various childhood diseases
that were rampant at that time, scarlet fever, whooping cough, consumption etc.
Of the survivors there were two boys and two girls. My mother’s sister Nan
lived near us; her brother Jack became an alcoholic who disappeared out of our
lives and her other brother Bobby ran off to sea. In later years we heard that
he had married and was living in Wales, but I don’t think I ever knew him.
These were my beginnings and life back then was like life on another planet. It
was so very different from life as I am experiencing it now as a senior citizen
living in sunny Central Florida.
I’ve
searched a few Genealogy sites looking for information on my ancestors. There
are so many conflicting dates and names that it would eat up too much time and money to get it all straightened out. I can
content myself knowing that there is a great possibility that I am a mixture of
the various tribes that roamed Britain centuries ago and that I am descended
from Norse, Celtic, Pict, Norman and Anglo-Saxon tribes.
My Descendants
My daughter Kristen.
My daughter and her family.
My grandson Holden.
My grandson Oliver.
My son Terry.
My Descendants
My daughter Kristen.
My daughter and her family.
My grandson Holden.
My grandson Oliver.
My son Terry.
My son and his family.
My grandson William.
My grandson Max.
My grandson William.
My grandson Max.
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