Gateshead Grump

One of my great great grandfathers was known for most of his life as Charles Stephen Freeman, a coal miner of Seaham, Co Durham. All that distinguished Charles from the rest of the local population was his thick foreign accent which he never lost. My grandmother, a granddaughter of Charles, told me that he was Swedish, and an oil painting of Charles in the back bedroom of my grandmother’s house, which I remember from my childhood, showed him as a seafarer on a sailing ship. In my childish imagination he was a swashbuckling Errol Flynn-type character sailing the Spanish Main. He had thick, vividly-red hair and beard, and a most unusual beard pattern with the growth entirely below the jaw-line. Sadly that painting didn’t survive my grandmother’s move to a smaller house in 1961, and all we have now is this very poor picture of Charles as an old man with his red hair and beard turned white.

In the 1970s, with my interest in family history increasing, I obtained birth, baptism and marriage records of Charles Stephen’s four children. He’s listed on all of these records as Charles or Charles Stephen Freeman, coal miner. But search as I might, I couldn’t find any marriage of a Charles or Charles Stephen Freeman.

Eventually I found the marriage in the records of Sunderland Parish Church in 1872, and this was my first indication that things were not quite as simple as they seemed. On that record he wasn’t Charles or Charles Stephen Freeman; he was Charles Freedman, aged 30, a miner, the son of Erich Freedman, a soldier. So Charles married under the name FREEDMAN, but a year later, on the birth certificate of his daughter, and on all subsequent records, the surname was given as FREEMAN. Why the change of name? My grandmother said she didn’t know.

I decided to visit as many of Charles’ descendants as I could find. The younger ones, unsurprisingly, knew nothing of Charles, but some of the older ones knew of him and a few re-iterated what my grandmother told me - Charles was Swedish, and in his younger days he’d been at sea. One added, and my grandmother later confirmed, that Charles had “jumped ship” and settled in the UK. One elderly relative, however, Bella Beck nee Freeman, really threw a spanner in the works. She said that her grandfather (Charles) wasn’t Swedish at all, he was Russian and a Jew, and he’d escaped to sea in his teens when he was about to be conscripted into the Tsar’s army.

I put this to my grandmother and she reacted as if I’d accused her grandfather of being a mass murderer. She made it very clear that I should never repeat those suggestions to anyone! Naturally I began to wonder. For the first time I realised that Freedman was indeed a Jewish name, and his wife’s even more so, her maiden name was Susanna Speakman. But they were married in an Anglican church and their children were baptised, so even if they had been Jewish, they didn’t remain so.

I found Charles on the 1881, 1891 and 1901 censuses, and these confirmed his name and approximate year of birth, 1842, his occupation, “miner”, and gave his place of birth as “Sweden”. The last two added that he was a “Naturalized British Subject”, but this appears to have been a lie as he does not appear in the naturalisation records at The National Archives at Kew in London.

With all the documentary evidence and most of the anecdotal evidence from the family stating that Charles Stephen was Swedish, and nothing concrete supporting Bella’s “Russian Jew” story, can I really give that story any credence? I probably shouldn’t, but the problem is that there are actually artefacts and other indications that suggest both a Russian and a Jewish connection to grandmother’s family.

When my grandmother died in 1982 I had to dispose of her belongings, including an old violin which resided in the bottom of her wardrobe. As a child I’d played with this violin and it was damaged, so I was inclined to throw it away. However, I heard that a young chap of my acquaintance wanted a violin, so I sold gran’s violin to him quite cheaply so he could repair and use it. Only when I’d committed to this transaction did I notice the violin label which was just visible through one of the F-holes. It read “Rigart Rubus Petersburg 1850″. A Russian violin! As far as I’m aware, gran’s parent’s didn’t play the instrument, so it presumably had belonged to one of her grandparents. Two of the four grandparents were born in the Cornwall/Devon area and one was born in Leeds, so it seems unlikely that any of those three would have owned a Russian violin. The fourth grandparent was Charles Stephen. Was the violin his? Was this evidence that the Russian origin story might not be so wide of the mark after all?

If I’d only known then, there was actually another significant artefact among my grandmother’s possessions which presumably came from either Charles Stephen or his wife. It was in grandmother’s “button box” - an old Peak Frean’s “Royal Scotch Shortbread” biscuit tin - which I’d simply handed over to my mother in 1982 without more than a glance at the contents. I never actually examined the contents until some time after my mother died in 1999. I was going through my mother’s possessions, deciding what to keep and what to throw away, when I came to that “button box”. I looked inside, and there, among the buttons, thimbles, press studs, bobbins of thread etc, I saw a very strange item indeed.

It was a circular pendant, probably of pewter, with a diameter of about 1.85 inches (4.7 cm) and its principal design feature was a Star of David (or Magen David), the symbol of Judaism. In the centre of the star was a Hamsa or “Hand of Miriam”, and between the points of the star were six apotropaic all-seeing eyes. Two holes in the “palm” of the hamsa look as though they may have contained gemstones, and there are indications that the pendant may have been gold-plated or gilded, though the specks of gold colouration could, just possibly, be corrosion. It is a Jewish good-luck charm. Only a Jew would have purchased and worn such a charm and the only possible Jews in grandmother’s known ancestry were Charles Stephen Freedman, his wife, Susannah Speakman, and their forebears. Yet more evidence supporting Bella Freeman’s version of the story.

How could my grandmother have dismissed the idea of her grandfather being Jewish so strenuously, when she owned such an obviously Jewish item which could only have come from that side of the family? I knew grandmother had lied to me about a different ancestor’s bigamous marriage, so she was prepared to lie to hide things about her forebears she found embarrassing. Did she deliberately lie about her Jewish ancestry? On reflection, however, I might be inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt. After all, my mother had the “button box” for 17 years and never spotted the Jewish symbol - I’m confident she would have told me if she had noticed it. Perhaps my grandmother inherited the button box contents from her mother (Charles’ daughter) and had never gone through it item by item, or she saw it but never realised its significance. Or am I being too kind?

In 2011 I took a series of DNA tests, including an autosomal DNA (atDNA) test which can match with blood relatives in all family lines. Among my atDNA matches are a significant number of individuals with Russian “.ru” e-mail addresses and/or seemingly Russian names including FYODOROVA, KARPOV, ANDREEVA, GURNOWSKA, VOROTYNTSEVA and OVECHKINA. Of course, these matches could be through any of my ancestral lines, but I know all my ancestors for five generations and many lines for seven, and the only line from outside the British Isles is the one which includes Charles and his father. Sadly, none of the Russian matches has responded to my e-mails, nonetheless this is yet another tantalising hint that Bella just could have been right. Though I must add that there were two atDNA matches from Sweden too.

Earlier this month I found Charles on the 1861 census - under the name Charles Friedman. He was a 19 year old “ordinary seaman” on the 137-ton Sunderland-registered brigantine “Hannah” which was engaged in the “coasting trade”. On census night, 7th April 1861, the ship was off Flamborough Head. Charles gave his place of birth as Gothenburg, Sweden - so on this occasion he specified his city of birth, not just the country. This census return shows that Charles had Sunderland connections as early as 1861. And look at the spelling of the surname! FRIEDMAN - even more obviously Jewish than Freedman.

So was he a Swede or Russian Jew? Or can aspects of both descriptions be true. If we allow the escape to sea to avoid conscription in Russia to have occurred, say, a generation earlier, could we accommodate both accounts? That’s just wild speculation, of course. In truth, we simply don’t know - yet.

Well, 2011 is nearly history. Can it really be a year since we were saying the same about 2010? At least this year we’re not battling the elements over the festive season as we did last year. We’ve had a brief period of snow and a brief freeze, but nothing to worry about. Christmas day in the UK proved to be one of the mildest on record. Last year it wasn’t just the festive season, the snow and ice lasted well into the new year and caused tremendous disruption, so let’s hope we don’t have a repeat at the start of 2012. After the early ice and snow, the year wasn’t too bad weatherwise, we had a good share of sunshine and warmth and not too much rain. Our main grumble in 2011 was the tremendous winds we seem to be getting with alarming regularity.

Our son, Jonathan, went out to Portugal about two years ago with his partner, Helena, his son, Hari, and step-son, Alex. They’re still there and seem to be doing well. Jonathan had problems finding a job at first because of his limited Portuguese language skills, but he’s now found one which requires an English speaker - an ideal job for him.

Our cat, Samantha or “Sam”, is in good health despite celebrating her 16th birthday on 1st September. Well, that date’s just a guess as she was a stray, but according to a vet, the date is within a month or so, so near enough. At present she’s wearing a shocking-pink bow, so she looks very Christmassy.

Health-wise we can’t complain, though we’re both rather overweight - me more so than Chris - and we both have Type 2 Diabetes. We have regular check-ups with our GP, his practice staff and specialists from the Queen Elizabeth Hospital, and our eyes are checked annually by our optician, Tony Nurowski. I was aware that I had diabetic neuropathy (loss of sensation) in one foot, but I was rather shocked to be told that my diabetes is beginning to affect my eyes too. Fortunately Chris seems free of such side-effects at present.

In 2010 both our chiropodist, Ken Scott, and our dentist, Chris Magnay, retired. They were both very hard acts to follow, but their replacements, Michael Gallagher and John Rivers, are excellent. 2011 was the first full year they’ve treated us, and we’re more than satisfied with both of them.

We effectively have a new doctor too as our nominal GP, Dr Schumm, seems to be taking fewer surgeries now; perhaps she’s approaching retirement. Luckily all the practice doctors are first class and we’re happy to see any of them, but it so happens that we’ve most often found ourselves seeing Dr Finnerty recently, so we regard him as our de-facto GP now.

Although we’ve had a myriad of tests of various kinds, and a few medication tweaks, the only actual treatment either of us have had this year was a couple of antibiotic courses for minor infections, and our annual flu jabs in September. Oh, and earlier in September, I had a pneumo jab too. Apparently I should have had it some time ago, but I’d somehow slipped through the net. So 2011 saw very little treatment and, most unusually, no hospital appointments at all - a very good year indeed.

In February one of Christine’s good friends of many years, Flora, left the area. Christine knew Flora before I came on the scene, and Flora was matron of honour when Chris and I married in 1980. She was born in Rhodesia and came to Gateshead with her husband and growing family. Sadly her husband died, leaving Flora to raise her five children alone. Flora worked her way through college, became a qualified teacher, and she held down a full time job while raising her family amazingly well. All five children went to university and have good jobs. Now Flora has retired and she’s moved to Essex to be near some of her children. Very sad to see her go.

Chris and I continued to enjoy the productions at Gateshead’s Little Theatre through 2011. The Progressive Players do a fantastic job for an amateur group, with ten plays a year, each running for a week. The latest was a comic adaptation of “The 39 Steps”. It was hilarious. We haven’t been to the Theatre Royal much this year as things there are worse, not better. First they hiked the seat prices substantially, and now, in the name of putting things back as they were in the early 1900s, they’ve changed the seating layout on the upper floors much for the worse, and installed seats which give you severe backache after a very short time. The place certainly looks gorgeous, and they get some wonderful shows, but they’ve rather ruined it for us and, I suspect, for many others too. We were regulars there for years, now we’re reluctant to go at all.

We also get to most of the “Medicine for Members” talks at the Queen Elizabeth Hospital. These are on a variety of medical topics and consist of presentations and question/answer sessions by doctors, nurses and other professionals. Recent topics have included Rheumatology, the Hospital Path Labs and the work of the Emergency Ambulance Service. The talks are always fascinating and they provide a rare opportunity to ask questions of the medical professionals who serve us so well here in Gateshead.

I’ve also become a regular at Newcastle’s Skeptics in the Pub meetings, most of which are held at the Bridge Hotel beside the Castle Keep. This group consists mainly of graduate and post-graduate students and recent graduates of Newcastle University, mostly in the BioMed fields, but there are a few members from other fields and a few older members, such as myself. A lovely group they are too. We meet once a month, sometimes more, and we enjoy talks on a wide variety of vaguely “skeptical” topics given by invited speakers such as the gentleman pictured here - Nick Pope, former government UFO investigator. Occasionally we meet up for “Socials” at the Old George Pub off High Bridge - not “Socials” in the sense that I understood the word from my “Methodist” days, ie a dance and a buffet, but rather a friendly chat over a pint or a Pepsi. Most enjoyable. I’ve yet to persuade Chris to come along to these events, but my cousin Ray and his partner and sons come along from time to time.

Other talks and lectures which I’ve attended included some excellent science and history talks at the Lit & Phil, a few meetings and film shows of the North East Humanists, and the annual Robinson Prize Lecture in Cosmology at Newcastle University. This year it was entitled ‘Why is the Universe Bio-friendly’ and was given by the world-famous physicist, Professor Paul Davies. And the year ended on a lighter note with The Bright Club on December 7th - great stand-up comedy from a bunch of academics at The Black Swan on Westgate Road.

When it comes to history talks, the high spot of the year for many years has been Local History Month. More than 80 events in Gateshead, mostly talks or walks, during the month of May. The talks take place in Gateshead Heritage Centre, the Shipley Art Gallery, or in one of the libraries around the borough and are on a huge variety of local-history related topics. Although Local History Month is a national endeavour, Gateshead’s provision is massive compared to most, and that was entirely down to the efforts of Local History Librarian and Heritage Centre Manager, Anthea Lang who organises it single-handed. Unfortunately Anthea retired in June - we went to her leaving party at The Central Bar on June 14th - so what happens next year remains to be seen. Her post was not filled, so unless they bring Anthea back to do the job as a freelance, it’s unlikely that future Local History Months will be on the same scale as in recent years.

My own contribution to Local History Month every year is a history walk in Rowlands Gill, my home village for 32 years. We start and end at the library and try to take in as many of the sites of historical interest in the area as we can in 2 hours, looking at old photographs of the sites en-route. We round the afternoon off with a cup of tea and a biscuit kindly laid on by the library staff. This year’s walk on May 12th was quite well attended and everyone seemed to enjoy the event.

I do the same walk again as part of the Heritage Open Days programme every September, this year it was on September 9th. During both annual visits to Rowlands Gill, Chris and I invariably pop into the local cafe - for many years it was called “Tea for Two” and was run by Gloria Philipson, now it’s called “The Kitchen” with Gary in charge. I usually opt for their All-Day Breakfast - delicious.

Talking of food - our regular “dining out” spot is now the Ravensworth Arms at Lamesley. Pleasant setting, very friendly staff and great chefs. We’ve been through a few places over the years - The Victoria; The Gold Medal; Fenwick’s Terrace Restaurant; The Marquis of Granby; The Rose, Shamrock & Thistle; The Gold Medal; The Ninepins; the Shire Cafe at Hexham and The Tyneside Coffee Rooms - but we changed for one reason or another. Maybe the place changed owners or changed chefs, and the food or atmosphere was no longer to our taste, or maybe we just fancied a change. We still go to The Victoria, The Shire Cafe and the Tyneside Coffee Rooms very occasionally, but usually it’s The Ravensworth Arms once or twice a week. Recently we’ve been back to Fenwick’s Terrace Restaurant a few times too, but only when we’ve been shopping at Fenwick’s itself or nearby, and I can’t see it replacing The Ravensworth as our regular spot.

When my Canadian cousin, Ian, was in the UK in October, I organised a family get-together, and the natural choice of venue for me was The Ravensworth. 35 managed to attend - 10 of the 13 “Walker” cousins, plus assorted spouses/partners, children and grandchildren, and the guests of honour, Aunt Jean and Uncle Ray - shown here. Jean is the only one of the six Walker girls who is still with us. We had a great time catching up with family news and seeing how much the children had grown since our last get-together.

The Ravensworth is also the venue for meetings of “The Gang” - a small group of long-time members of the NORTHUMBRIA mailing list. We meet up every two months or so for a meal and a natter. A great bunch. In November we were joined by Canadian mailing list member, Heather Punshon and hubby, Derek. I know Heather from way back; she was a student maths teacher during my last year at school. Hard to believe that was all of 47 years ago! Another mailing-list member from Canada, Doreen Welch-Perri, was over here in August and we met for a coffee at the Tyneside Coffee Rooms. It was a great pleasure to meet Heather, Derek and Doreen.

If Chris & I just fancy a snack while we’re shopping in Low Fell, we pop into a little cafe above a flower shop. We’ve been using that cafe for more than 20 years. Over that time it’s had a couple of names - Streamers and Cafe Carvoeiro - and many more owners, but it’s always been a pleasant spot where you could get a hot drink and a tasty light meal. This year saw the arrival of Chris Shaftoe and his wife, and the latest rename - it’s now The Stairwayz Cafe - and they seem to be making a success of the place.

I’ve attended two local history courses this year, both under the general heading of “The Changing Face of Gateshead”. The first, on the history of the Shipcote area, was based at Gateshead Central Library and consisted of 10 weekly classes beginning on February 2nd. The second, on the history of Bensham, was based at St Mary’s Heritage Centre and consisted of 6 weekly classes beginning on October 5th. Both were ably conducted by Anthea Lang - as a council employee for the first course, and as a freelance tutor for the second. For the first course Simon Green assisted too. These were really good courses and I think I learnt a lot.

We used to volunteer for a variety of things - far too many - but we’ve cut things down a lot. Apart from the history walks mentioned earlier, all we do locally are occasional mail-outs at Gateshead Old Town Hall - envelope stuffing, generally arts material aimed at schools. On the internet, I maintain the Northumberland web pages of the GENUKI genealogy information service, the pages of the Northumberland and Durham Family History Society, and I run Rootsweb’s NORTHUMBRIA genealogy mailing list.

In February Chris and I attended a Requiem Mass at St Joseph’s Church in Gateshead for Matty Lang, husband of Anthea mentioned above. Matty, a lovely man whom we’d met several times, had been suffering from Alzheimer’s Disease for some years. Although I’m used to Catholic church services as I taught in a Catholic School from 1967 to 1972, this was the first Catholic funeral I’d attended. It certainly was a grand send off. After the service we attended a funeral buffet at The Gold Medal on Chowdene Bank.

On April 24th we were due to attend the baptism of Joshua Grigor, grandson of my late father’s cousin, Edna. Unfortunately we didn’t make it as the pollen count was very high that day and I was laid low with hay fever. A great pity.

We did get to another family event on July 15th: the wedding reception for Andrew Stephenson, the grandson of another of my father’s cousins, Maurice. Andrew married Lauren Taylor, who is serving in the navy. The marriage took place at St Benet’s in Sunderland with the reception at the Marriott Hotel in Seaburn. Nice to have a rare opportunity to meet members of the extended family and new family members.

Three events of national importance occurred in 2011. First the census, nominally on March 27th. Questionnaires always irritate me, particularly when they ask us to categorise ourselves into racial or “ethnic” groupings - concepts which scientifically are utterly meaningless. They say they ask such questions to ensure that minorities are treated fairly - seems to me they can achieve that goal by simply treating everybody in exactly the same way. Asking people to categorise themselves can only make things worse. Sorry, I’ll step off my soap box. On April 29th we had the marriage of Prince William and Kate. Nothing cheers the nation up as much as a major royal event, and this was no exception. With the public-service cuts beginning to bite, we certainly needed cheering up. Then, on May 5th, came the Local Government Elections and the referendum on voting methods. As expected, massive propaganda and misinformation from both main parties ensured that the majority chose the status quo, first-past-the-post, and rejected what promised to be a much fairer system. Pity!

Visitors during the year included Christine’s brother, Bobby, from Brisbane, who was over in the UK in April and May. We spent quite a bit of time with Bobby and, as always, his time here seemed all too brief. My cousin, Eve, and husband, Brian, also visited the area in April and we met up with them at cousin Ray’s place in Gosforth - a most enjoyable mini family reunion.

Later in the year two of Christine’s recently-married relations brought their wives to meet family members here in Gateshead - on October 27th, we met cousin’s son Steven from Bournemouth and his new bride, Kathryn; and a month later, on November 29th, we met cousin Simon from London and Zoe. Both new family members seem really nice.

On April 18th, Chris and I visited Ian, a former teaching colleague at St Josephs in Sunderland. He’s the only former colleague I’ve kept in touch with, no doubt because we share an interest in electronics, computers, photography - and cats. He lives in Sunderland and we always enjoy our occasional visits to Ian’s place. It’s hard to believe it’s 40 years since we worked together in Sunderland. Back then my journey to work involved a train journey with bus rides at both ends - now there’s a Metro station right beside St Joe’s, which would have greatly simplified the daily treks.

For the last two or three years, Chris, myself and a few friends from my year at Hookergate Grammar School have met up from time to time for excursions around the area. We discovered that we all had genealogical interests in similar areas to the north and north-west of Hexham, indeed all of us have relatives in one small churchyard at Bewcastle in Cumbria. As well as trips to graveyards, museums, churches and ancestral haunts, these outings invariably include a meal - our venues so far have included The Milecastle Inn and the Robin Hood Inn at the west and east ends of the Miltary Road respectively, the Boat Inn Restaurant at Kielder Water and Riverdale Hall at Bellingham.

We didn’t know quite what to call this little group of ours to begin with. “Old Hookergatians” was unappealing, but what else was there? Then I spotted the term “Palmarian” in an old school magazine - an allusion to the school motto “Non Sine Pulvere Palmae” - so I was going to suggest that we become the “Old Palmarians”, but I was beaten to the punch by the partner of one of our number who referred to us as “The Secret Seven”. It quickly morphed to “The Famous Five” and that name has more or less stuck. By whatever name, they are great company, and we always have a good time.

This year, on July 21st, this same group attended a really moving event - an open day to mark the closure of our old school, Hookergate, near High Spen. We were given much greater access than we expected - almost all the rooms were open and we could explore to our hearts’ content. Memories flooded back as we wandered the corridors and classrooms. So sad to see the demise of the school where we spent seven happy years and which has served the area for nearly 80. My old junior school at Highfield was demolished in 2008, so this will be my second such loss in a very few years. It’s like chunks of my past disappearing off the face of the earth. A sort of bereavement-lite as it were.

July was also the time I made good on a promise to myself to put a headstone on my grandfather’s grave. My grandfather, Nicholas Pears, died in 1955 when I was only nine. I can remember him, of course, but I never really had a chance to get to know him. He was buried in an unmarked grave in Greenside Cemetery, presumably because my grandmother couldn’t afford a headstone. Fortunately she did purchase the plot, so the option of erecting a headstone has always been there, but it was never done. I’m grandfather’s only surviving descendant, so if I didn’t erect one, nobody would. I decided I must do it - by all accounts he was a good man, and he deserves a memorial.

I put off doing anything about this for a long time, but on May 26th I just happened to be in the Grainger Market and I spotted the office of Ian Wood Memorials. Within an hour I’d ordered the stone and paid a deposit; and within a day I’d written to the council to get ownership of the plot transferred to me, and get permission to erect the stone. The stone was erected on July 1st - it’s simple, yet dignified. The inscription reads “In loving memory of a dear husband, father and grandfather Nicholas Pears Born 26th May 1895 Died 10th January 1955″.

I also got round to accessing the 1939 National Registration records for my parents and grandparents. Those of us obsessed with family history like to track down every record available to us, and a new source has recently become available. There was a sort of mini-census, called the “National Registration”, taken at the end of September 1939 to facilitate conscription and other exigencies of war. Most of us assumed that these records would be inaccessible for 100 years, like the censuses, but one gentleman decided to find out for sure. He put in a Freedom of Information request for details for a particular address from those 1939 records, and he was successful.

Apparently the National Registration records formed the basis of the National Health Service record system in 1948, and the original records are still with the NHS at their Southport offices. Anticipating a flood of similar FoI requests for access to these records, the NHS formalised the procedure with application forms etc, so now it is easy for anyone to apply. The only drawback is the cost - £42 per household accessed. I thought that in September 1939 both my parents were living at home with their parents - but I wasn’t sure if any of dad’s uncle’s were living with him and his parents, and I wasn’t sure which of my mother’s sister’s were still at home. It would be worth £84 to find out.

So I applied, waited several weeks, and obtained the records. Dad’s place, 6 Watson Street, High Spen, was straightforward - there was just him and his parents only - but, surprisingly, mum wasn’t with her parents at 11 Mersey Street, Chopwell; only the younger sisters were there. So where was mum? I knew she’d been “in service” with the Bookless family of Jesmond a while earlier, but I’m sure she’d said she was finished there before the war. So where was she? Another £42 answered that question: she was in service with a Mr Lazarus, a pawnbroker and jeweller, and his family at 10 Beechfield Road, Gosforth. An interesting if expensive snippet of information.

Although I’m quite keen on modern technology, I’m always way behind everyone else in adopting it. I suppose it’s my innate resistance to change that’s the problem. What I’ve got does the job and I’m used to it, so why change? So it wasn’t until March of this year that I belatedly bought myself a smartphone to replace my bog-standard mobile and my Palm PDA. I plumped for an Android device (Samsung Galaxy Europa on the O2 network) as I generally find Google’s offerings to be both functional and intuitive. I must say that I’m more than satisfied with the device.

I am even further behind with computer operating systems. I write a lot of my own software and it is often tied closely with a particular OS, and needs adapting for a different version. Consequently I didn’t adopt Windows XP until 2007 when it had been around for six years, and we’re still using it on our Desktop and on Christine’s laptop. Realising that we can’t stick with XP indefinitely, I bought a laptop running Windows 7 in June of this year. The idea is to get used to Windows 7 and to try to either adapt my software to run on this OS, or to find new software to do the same jobs. With luck, by the time we’re forced to abandon XP, we’ll be able to do everything we need on machines running Win 7.

One program I’ve been forced to replace is my home-brew genealogy program. I wrote this in the 1990s and I’ve added features regularly since then. It now does exactly what I want, exactly how I want it done, and I’m quite attached to it, but it simply won’t run under Windows 7. I could do a complete rewrite, but that would take a long time and I’d really rather be doing genealogy, so I decided to switch to a commercial program. I’ve now purchased Rootsmagic 5 and transferred all my data to that program. It works satisfactorily, but doesn’t quite have all the features I’m used to. I suppose I’ll get used to it.

We also replaced our stepladder during the year. The one we had was very heavy and not quite high enough for our needs, so when it developed a twist and became decidedly unsafe, we were delighted to get rid of it. In March we replaced it with a much lighter and slightly higher stepladder from B&Q at Scotswood.

We also bought an additional door chime to take care of an increasing problem - my deafness. Nearly 30 years ago I installed a front-door bell-push wired to two door chimes, one in the passage and one in the kitchen, and at the time these were quite adequate. But now, when all the internal doors are shut and the TV is on, I simply cannot hear those chimes at all from my usual spot in front of my computer. Chris can, but she’s not always around. So in October, to resolve this, I bought an “extender” and “wireless” chime. The extender connects to one of the existing chimes and when the chime sounds it sends out a radio signal to trigger the new chime which can be located anywhere. With that chime typically one metre from my ear, I cannot miss it!

Other equipment replacements or upgrades during the year included the microwave cooker and the upright vacuum cleaner. We had a Dyson vacuum cleaner which worked well but was very complicated to change over from normal use to using the various attachments. So when I damaged the Dyson machine cleaning up some slightly damp sand, we welcomed the opportunity to dispose of it and get a replacement. We chose a Panasonic upright from John Lewis and it has proved just as effective as the Dyson and is much more user friendly. The microwave was old and a little corroded under the turntable, and we would have replaced it ages ago, were it not for the height limitations imposed by the only suitable location for it in the kitchen. There were lots of machines available, but all were too tall. Eventually, in April, I spotted a suitable appliance in Fenwick’s and ordered it.

Not all replacements were successful. Christine saw some shelves on display in IKEA and thought they’d make a good replacement for the aged bookshelves we’d inherited from my father. I was very reluctant to make the change as the existing bookshelves were from the 1940s and, though simple, were very strong. Chris reckoned that the IKEA unit would give us an extra two shelves, which would indeed be useful, so I agreed. Unfortunately the desired colour was out of stock at the local IKEA, so we had to wait several weeks before the flat-packs were delivered. It was simple to assemble, but as soon as I stood it against the wall I realised how dreadful it looked. It just didn’t fit in. Fortunately Chris thought the same, so it was quickly dismantled and disposed of, and our old bookshelves reinstated in their rightful place.

Of course we had break-downs and repairs too. In March the washing machine suddenly refused to move, luckily it was under warranty, so the repair - new brushes for the motor - cost nothing. In June the hot water system stopped working. but it was quickly fixed by engineer, Bob Thornton, who does all our heating/hot-water repairs. Apparently it needed a new “diaphragm”. Then in October the landline telephone went off - surprisingly our ADSL broadband continued to work, though the speed dropped significantly and it also cut out briefly from time to time. Once I’d navigated through BT’s confusing telephone menu system twice using my mobile phone - once to report the fault and once to supply additional information requested by the engineers - things went very smoothly and the fault was rectified within two days. Luckily the fault was in a street cabinet, not on our premises, so the engineer only needed access here briefly to test his workmanship. It took slightly longer to get the broadband speed back up to its usual 6.1-6.8 Mbps, but my ISP, Metronet, managed that within a week

We had workmen here on other occasions. In March we had a new gas meter installed. As I’ve just recently realised, the old one had measured in Imperial units whereas the new one is metric, a change which caused a temporary panic this month when I saw how many more units we were using this year compared to last. In September we had a plasterer here making good a problem section of the kitchen wall which I’ve had hidden behind a decorative board for 25+ years. We used a company on our local council’s Registered Traders list - Arc Plasters of Sunniside - and they did an excellent job.

In September we called another company recommended by the council, Croft Windows of Swalwell, and we asked them to replace or tidy up the internal trims on some windows which were installed some time ago by other companies, and also to rectify faults in two window hinges. They too did a very good job.

We had our regular gardener, George Jukes, twice this year as usual - once in the spring and again in October. He is rather expensive, but he does a grand job with our tiny front garden, keeping it neat and colourful.

We now do nearly all our regular food shopping at Sainsbury’s at the southern end of the Team Valley. Since the summer, our neighbours, Maureen and Steve, have kindly given us a lift there and back once a week - most helpful. Sometimes we also go there ourselves after eating at the Ravensworth which is close by. We also use a Co-op, a “Nisa” convenience store, a bakers, and a greengrocers, all at Low Fell, for odds and ends at other times.

Beginning in October, I ordered a series of genealogy-related DNA tests with a leading American company, Family Tree DNA, in the hope of confirming some uncertain family links and perhaps finding new ones. Initially I ordered just the Y-DNA test which relates only to my all-male (Pears) line. I intended to take some additional tests, possibly next year, but when the testing company announced an end-of-year sale with greatly reduced prices, I took the opportunity to order autosomal tests for Christine and myself. These can potentially match up with descendants of all our ancestral lines. A few days ago, just before the sale ended, I also ordered a mitochondrial DNA test, which relates to my mother and on up through the all-female line.

Some results are back - no major breakthroughs yet, but already there are numerous very tantalising hints and leads. However it’s a complex subject and there’s a lot to digest. It looks like I’ll need to curb my Francophobe tendencies as I seem to match with a lot of people in Brittany! I won’t have that problem with my newly-found Merle relatives in Germany, as it’s a country which fascinates me. The gentleman I have a DNA match with is a Heinrich Merle (shown in this photograph taken by Karl-Heinz Merle of Neukirchen at a recent family gathering), though my contact is his English-speaking relative, Guenter Merle of Griesheim near Darmstadt. It seems to be a great family, though quite how I relate to Merle in my all-male line (who should all be called Pears), is a mystery - but DNA doesn’t lie! Altogether a fascinating area of research. Those who know me through the NORTHUMBRIA genealogy mailing list will think me quite a hypocrite as I’ve often argued strongly against DNA testing for genealogists. I’ll admit my change of heart next time the issue is raised.

As Christmas approached we had a number of Christmas meals. First was with “The Famous Five” at the Robin Hood Inn on the Military Road on December 1st - a bit of a mix-up there as I’d mistakenly booked by phone from a 5 year-old menu I found on the web. When the owner eventually realised this, he had no means of getting back to me. However, he kindly got hold of the necessary ingredients just for us, and we got exactly what we’d ordered, though not, unfortunately, at the 5 year-old prices.

Our second festive meal was with “The Gang” at the Ravensworth Arms on December 5th, and finally, on December 13th, we went down to Mount Oswald Manor outside Durham City for a meal with the Retired Members Association of my union, the NASUWT. All the meals were excellent - as was the company.

We were very early with our Christmas cards this year, probably too early, but we’d had an early prompt - we’d actually received a Christmas card on the 22nd of November! Likewise with our little tree and other decorations at home, and buying presents for family and friends, all were dealt with unusually early. So after the round of Christmas meals, there wasn’t really much left to do in preparation for the Big Day in the remaining ten days or so. Perhaps that unexpected hiatus was what prompted us to deal with an issue that’s been niggling at us both for many months - what to do with our Davidson flower bowl and frog?

It wasn’t particular old, made around 1930 I believe, but it was rather attractive, it was locally made, and it was of a comparatively rare pattern. We didn’t want it, so we’d decided a long time ago to offer it to Tyne and Wear Museums as we’d seen similar objects at their Shipley Art Gallery. Of course it was another of those things that kept getting put off. So it wasn’t until December 15th that I phoned the Shipley, they referred me to the Laing Art Gallery in Newcastle and, to cut a longer story short, I offered them the bowl and they were “delighted to accept” it. I delivered it to the Laing on December 21st.

The origins of that bowl are the subject of a minor household dispute. I was convinced that I remembered that bowl at my paternal grandmother’s house at Rowlands Gill, so I assumed we’d inherited it from her. Christine, however, was certain that she’d bought it at a “Bring and Buy” sale many years ago. I happily accepted that I could be wrong - until three days ago, that is, when I found three photographs I’d taken at my gran’s in 1971 of an identical bowl, complete with flowers. Well, perhaps ‘identical’ is not quite true - the bowl I snapped in 1971 had a base, the one we gave to The Laing did not, but otherwise they were indistinguishable in shape, colour and pattern. When the bowl was on sale in the 1930s, the separate base was an optional extra, so our bowl may never have had a base, or it may have had one which was subsequently lost or broken. So ‘our’ bowl may indeed have been my gran’s bowl minus its base, or it may be a quite different one. In the interests of household harmony, I’ll accept that coincidences do occur and we could be dealing with two identical bowls - two identical rather rare bowls - but at least I have the satisfaction of knowing that my memory wasn’t faulty.

Among the Christmas cards which arrived about 10 days before Christmas there was a hand-written letter; it wasn’t good news! It was from, Lilian, the wife of a friend, David Petty, informing me the David had died on December 3rd. I got to know David at university. We came from the same backgrounds, had the same sort of geeky, obsessive characters, and, as we studied exactly the same combination of subjects, we saw quite a lot of each other. Then we graduated and I went into teaching at Sunderland and David joined an electronics company in Stockport. I visited David a few times in Stockport in the late 60s - memorable visits as I did three things then I’d not done before and haven’t done since. I went to a professional football match, Manchester United vs Southampton - I played snooker - and I played 10-pin bowling. Those sports, particularly bowling and snooker, always remind me of that time.

After that, apart from exchanging Christmas cards, we rather lost touch. Until 2006, that is, when I had occasion to contact David on university alumni business. We spoke on the phone and exchanged a few e-mails - it was really nice to catch up after so many years. Hard to believe he’s gone.

Then Christmas Eve arrived - and no Christmas Eve is complete without a minor household emergency, and this year it was provided by our toilet seat! One of the two metal hinges attaching the seat to the toilet snapped. Too late to shop for a replacement, so it was on with the overalls, out with the tools, and after a while we had a secure toilet seat again. In theory it’s as good as new, but in practice I’ll probably replace it after the New Year, just in case.

So what will 2012 bring? More cuts, that’s for sure. One we know about already is our bin collections here in Gateshead being reduced from weekly to fortnightly, but that’s no big deal. And ultimately we’ll muddle through whatever the government and council throw at us. None of that’s particularly important - all that really matters are our friends and our nearest and dearest. So here’s to a happy and healthy 2012 for you and yours.

As an avid family historian I’m always trying to solve the myriad of little mysteries that beset every family - mysteries that always seem to come to light just after the death of the last person would could have provided an explanation. One such in our family concerned the wartime service of a great-uncle, Arthur Axford. Nothing secret or anything like that, it was just a puzzle.  He was a chef in the army, and during the war he was in based at Thropton near Rothbury in Northumberland. According to my dad’s 1942 diary, he and mum, and several other family members, spent their summer holiday (June 28-July 5) at nearby Longframlington and met up with Arthur several times during their stay both at Thropton (where they saw a water rat) and at Longframlington.  But the mystery was - search as I might, I could find no record of an army unit based at Thropton, nor could any of the elderly locals I contacted remember the army being there.

Today I spotted something I’d not noticed before - in the address section of that same 1942 diary is a reference to “Thropton Hostel” - no address, no context, just those two words alone on one page. As far as I’m aware our family has no association with Thropton other than Arthur’s army service there, so it seemed a fair bet that Thropton Hostel was Arthur’s address. But what was Thropton Hostel? A quick “Google” produced a single hit - an Imperial War Museum index entry for an account of one girl’s experiences serving in the Women’s Land Army including her “first posting to Thropton hostel near Rathbury (sic), Northumberland”. I’ve sent off a request for a copy of the document, but even without it this seems to provide the solution - Arthur was posted as chef to a Women’s Land Army hostel.  What a dream posting for a 32 year-old single man!   Revelations like this make family history a uniquely fascinating hobby.

[Picture - click image to enlarge - shows Arthur Axford at Thropton with his sister-in-law Ethel, nee Ennis, and brother Jack.]

The announcement of imminent (26 July) demolition of the (in)famous “Get Carter” car park in Gateshead, got me thinking about the wonderful glimpses into the past of our region which this great film (movie) provides. I couldn’t resist watching the DVD again - in fact I did so twice and will probably do so again very soon. Virtually every scene showed places I knew so well - and many, of course, are now no more or have changed beyond recognition.

My mind turned to my other favourite Tyneside-based films “Payroll” and “The Clouded Yellow” which show the region in earlier times. I’d had both on VHS, but they’d long ago gone the way of all old technology - in the bin - and I’d not replaced them with DVDs. So, on Wednesday evening, I ordered both from Amazon and they arrived this morning. I’ve already watched both.

“Payroll” shows many fascinating views of the Tyneside of 1961 - a very different Tyneside from that of 1971 (Get Carter). I’d forgotten just how much and how quickly things changed during the 1960s.

Yet, despite the changes, the Tyneside shown in “Payroll” was still a very familiar Tyneside - something I cannot say about all the scenes in my other favourite, “The Clouded Yellow“, which shows the Newcastle of 1950, the year I started school. Yes, the Central Station, the trolley buses, the Jesmond roads are quite familiar, but the film also shows some dark and dingy alleys leading down to the river, places I’ve never seen and would never want to have seen, and it shows the Quayside in its hey-day. What a sight!

As a young child I can vaguely remember being taken around the Quayside Sunday Market with Paddy’s Market beyond - and yes, there were many ships tied up, but I’ve never seen the amazing hustle and bustle shown in the film. Our heroes, Jean Simmons and Trevor Howard, hotly pursued by police and the Secret Service, actually arrive in Newcastle by ship. Yes, by ship!!!

So which films show the region as it was? I know of several:

Clouded Yellow 1950 (Jean Simmons, Trevor Howard, Kenneth More)
Payroll 1961 (Michael Craig, Billie Whitelaw, William Lucas)
Get Carter 1971 (Michael Caine, Brit Ekland, John Osborne)
The Likely Lads 1976 (James Bolam, Rodney Bewes)
Stormy Monday 1988 (Melanie Griffith, Sting, Sean Bean)
Billy Elliott 2000 (Jamie Bell, Julie Walters)

Does anyone know of any others? I’m really looking for examples which show the region as the back-drop to a story - not films like “Harry Potter…” or “Alien 3” which use locations in the region completely out of context, though it might be interesting to note those too.

I was wrong, the loss of the BSF funding will not save Hookergate from closure. At a meeting between parents and councilors tonight it was announced the the closure of Hookergate and the amalgamation with Ryton Comprehensive are going ahead on the same time-scale . The only  change of plan is that the proposed new school at Greenside won’t now be built. Apparently the money the council will get from the sale of the Hookergate site was the deciding factor.

A friend of mine writes “My daughter rang me about an hour ago, and she had just returned from the meeting with councillors stating that the land was worth too much money … and that the money was going ‘into the pot’, not towards the childrens’ education. That the proposed new building of Greenside school was not going ahead, and that some teachers from Hookergate will be taking redundancies!! … There are a lot of very unhappy people around tonight.” and “Apparently it was not a pleasant meeting, a lot of anger and sadness.” and “There will be one more intake of first years in September, and that will be the last, they are just phasing it out in the next three years.”

What a pity.

Hookergate School © Copyright Ivan Everett and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence.

Like everyone else in the UK I’m dreading both the direct and indirect effects of the massive spending cuts recently announced by the coalition government. So I took particularly delight in yesterday’s news that one consequence of the cuts is that my old grammar school, Hookergate, will not now close in 2013 as was planned.

Under Labour’s ‘Building Schools for the Future’ (BSF) scheme, Hookergate  School was to close completely and be replaced by an enlarged Ryton Comprehensive School built under PFI contracts on a new site, probably in the Greenside area.  But yesterday Michael Gore, the Education Secretary, announced that many of the BSF projects have been scrapped to save money, incuding:

Hookergate School - (Proposed for closure) - Stopped

and

Ryton Comprehensive School - Stopped - PFI

So happily the old place, which holds many happy memories for me, is safe for the moment.

When I was younger I found it relatively easy to stick with the task at hand until it was finished. Now I’m easily side-tracked and seem to jump from task to task willy-nilly as the whim takes me - a new project is always more appealing than the existing one. My late father’s history of his home village, High Spen, needed an awful lot of work if it was ever to be published, and time and again over the years since his death I’d started the task, only to set it to one side after a week or so and move on to something else which had taken my fancy. This time, I promised myself, it would be different; I’d see it through to completion. And it almost worked. The editing and checking stage was completed and I was having a final re-read to help me decide which photographs and illustrations I might need. But for some reason, when I came to a reference to Garesfield Golf Club, I immediately remembered a dreadful event there from my teenage years - the first time I saw a dead body.

Read the rest of this entry »

Well it’s nearly here - though, as ever, it will be an anticlimax when it actually arrives. Yes, the traditional meal on Christmas Day will be nice, and we’ll probably get some friends and family calling - there might even be something on TV worth watching - but Christmas is like a lot of things; much better in the planning, preparation and anticipation than in fulfillment.

I’ve had some pleasant Christmas meals. December 8th with fellow Gateshead Council volunteers where we got to sit beside some old friends from my home village. Lovely. December 9th with the Retired Members Association of my former union - a nice bunch, though I hardly know them. (New Year’s Resolution - attend more events). And last, but certainly not least, December 16th with a small group of good friends. delightful.

And I’ve been to some pleasant shows and events. Two great concerts at the newly-restored St Mary’s Church on November 26th and December 16th, and the Theatre Royal Pantomime on December 6th - a treat, as ever, though I wish they’d do a show just for us oldies with no noisy, smelly, irritating kids allowed.

So I cannot grumble. But I will, especially when its over and I’m looking back and figuring the cost, the hassle and the worry. But, of course, I’ll do it all again next year - in fact I’m already looking forward to it!

I’ve just picked up a copy of a great little book entitled “Once a Week is Ample or, the moderately sensual Victorian’s guide to restraint of the passions.” by Gerard MacDonald. The cost, believe it or not, was 1p, yes 1p, from Amazon - though I reckon they made about a £1 profit on the postage and packing. Still quite a bargain for a hardback.

It consists of genuine “agony-aunt” type questions and answers taken from a large number of late-nineteenth century publications and its simply side-splittingly funny.

Three examples:

When I reach Fifty Years of Age should I, then, renounce the pleasures of Love?

Assuming that you want to stay alive, you should. According to Dr Gardner., ‘after fifty years of age a man of sense ought to renounce the pleasures of love. Each time he allows himself this gratification is a pellet of earth thrown upon his coffin’.

I assume that the Divine Purpose was justified in creating the Woman less Intelligent than Man?

How can you doubt it, sir? Mr Mantegazza writes that ‘man was made by nature more intelligent than woman. Perfect harmony is only to be found with a man who thinks vigorously, does what he wishes with energy, who rules and guides the woman in the paths of life and the glories of conquest. The inversion of these relations . . . Is an humiliation on the part of the man and (let us admit it) on the part of the woman also, who in ninety-nine cases out of the hundred wishes to he loved. caressed and also adored, but who likes to feel ruled.’

I am aware that Syphilis brings Madness in its Train. Is the same True of the Solitary Vice?

Medical opinion holds this to be the case. Dr Guernsey writes, that ‘a search is any insane asylum will show that a very large proportion of patients are made up from those who masturbate or who have syphilis. Stamp out these two evils, or rather curses. of the human race, and the supply that feeds our insane asylums, aye, and our penitentiaries, too, will be vastly lessened.`

At last, after many delays and stops and starts, demolition has finally begun on the block which includes the iconic car park immortalised in the classic 1971 film “Get Carter”. The car park is loved by film buffs but almost universally hated by those of us unfortunate enough to live nearby.   Now that walls are finally tumbling, let us hope that everything goes smoothly and speedily through to its planned conclusion - a Gateshead Town Centre that we can be proud of.

Mrs G cut her thumb today while peeling potatoes. The cut was quite deep and there was lots of blood, but when the thumb was cleaned up it didn’t look too bad. I applied Savlon cream and Elastoplast and would probably have left it at that were it not for the fact that the potatoes had soil on them and with soil comes the danger of tetanus.

We calculated that Mrs G’s last tetanus jab was 20 years ago, so clearly she need another. But where to go?  The A & E Department at the Queen Elizabeth Hospital  seemed a bit OT for such a slight injury, so we decided to try the NHS Walk-In Centre at Bensham for the first time.

Good choice - Mrs G was seen quickly and received excellent care.  First the receptionist took brief details, then we sat in the waiting room along with perhaps another seven or eight people. After twenty minutes or so Mrs G was called into a treatment room where she saw the Triage Nurse who cleaned up the wound, applied a temporary dressing and finally filled out a comprehensive ‘medical history’ form on a computer terminal. Naturally, this being an NHS computer terminal, the system froze before the form was complete, but this didn’t hold things up much and, after a brief return to the waiting room, Mrs G was called in to see a Nurse Practitioner.

This gentleman  examined the wound and applied a more permanent dressing, but when Mrs G broached the subject of a tetanus jab, he seemed surprisingly reluctant to accede. We explained that there was soil in the wound and she hadn’t had a jab for 20 years, but he said that NHS policy now was that if someone had had five or more tetanus jabs at any time, then they were protected for life and didn’t need further jabs. And, he added, everybody had four tetanus jabs when they were children so, with the extra one twenty years ago, she’d received her five and didn’t need any more!

Where on earth he got the idea that everybody had four tetanus jabs as children, I don’t know. Perhaps it’s true for twenty and thirty somethings, but it certainly isn’t true for sixty somethings like us. All Mrs G got as a child were vaccinations against polio and smallpox, I only got the former. After explaining this, Mrs G got her tetanus jab and that was it, job done apart from the instruction to keep the wound dry for a few days.

So we thanked the nurse and left, completely satisfied with treatment and indeed the whole experience - notwithstanding the IT problem and the Nurse Practitioner’s misconception about the NHS’s early vaccination practices. Nice to see that at least one of this present government’s initiatives is living up to its hype.

At last some common-sense from the EU - they aren’t going to force the UK to give up imperial weights and measures. Let us hope that Westminster repeals the metric legislation which is already on the statute books so traders are free to use whatever units they choose.

Meet our first grandson - born at noon on 23rd August.

He does annoy me, that Rowan Williams. A few weeks ago he was pontificating on the Trident missile system and now it’s our policy in Iraq. Even if I agreed with him I’d want him to shut up on defence and foreign policy. Every four years or so we elect a bunch of guys to govern the country and look after such matters, and even if they make a mess of it, they do have our mandate do do the job. This Williams guy  should spend his time doing the job he was picked for  and leave running the country to our elected representatives. Perhaps he could start by getting rid of the misogynists and homophobes that infest his organisation.

We popped in to see Uncle Bill at The Chesters and found him in the lounge for the first time in ages. He seemed much better in himself - nice to see him looking so well.