FAMILY FOTO 36 - THE WELSH GIRLS (undated photo)

The Welsh Girls

This photo was one which came into my possession from my Aunt's collection, and found when we had to clear her bungalow for her to go into a nursing home in 2010. 

I gave the house clearance team (i.e. the other family members), a clear instruction - "....anything that looks remotely like 'family history' keep to one side, and then we'll put it into a box with 'DO NOT THROW AWAY!' written across its sides in big red letters. This unknown photo was only one of many  lovely items I came across in that box which I had never seen before.

I'm assuming the photo would have been taken by my grandad, William John Welsh, on his Kodak 'box brownie' camera, which I remember being brought out on a few occasions. The location is not at all clear, but I'm assuming that it will be one of the parks in Toxteth - Princes Park, which was a short walk from where the family lived in Hughson Street - or perhaps Sefton Park, which was a little further away. I don't think it is anywhere near their home, for I don't recall ever seeing a green space such as this anywhere near Hughson Street, which was surrounded by terraced houses and large tenement and court property. No... it is clear to me that the photo was probably recording a Sunday day out for the family... one that many families would have taken at that time.

My Mum Joan is the child standing in the front of the group. Aged about three years old, she is dressed in her 'Sunday best' dress, with a hairband holding back her tousled auburn hair. As she was born in 1933, this would place the date around 1936/37. Betty, her elder sister, is standing behind her... and potentially aged between 11 and 12 years old.

My grandmother Elizabeth Welsh (or Lizzie as everyone tended to call her) is also dressed in her Sunday best dress, just like her girls. 

Lizzie was employed 'in service'... working as a maid in one of the larger houses in Toxteth or Aigburth for an affluent family. Her duties might include cleaning or cooking... the latter of which she was really good at as I recall, but I have little hope of finding out which. There is a photograph of her in her younger years, with a team of other girls in uniforms, which implies that her services would be hired from an agency. One of my regular genealogical searches is to see if I can find any such local agencies whose books might have been transcribed and placed online somewhere.... I certainly haven't found it yet, but I'll just keep on searching - just in case. 

    

(c) 2024. G.Seaman

OCCUPATIONS IN GENEALOGY - THE TGWU BADGE

                                                         OCCUPATION - THE TGWU BADGE

In amongst the personal items, removed from my late Aunts bungalow when she moved into a care home in 2010, I found this small non-descript union badge for the TGWU... the Transport and General Workers Union.

She herself had no recollection of where it had come from. It wasn't hers she was sure, (although by this time her memory was failing due to suffering with dementia). I could only think that it belonged to either my grandfather, who worked for a time on the Liverpool docks, or my uncle Johnny Erlis, who was an engine driver on the docks. 

The badge was photographed and put away in a cupboard, along with the rest of my 'family heirloom' items... but thinking now that I should begin to resurrect the many facts (and tales) connected to the Seaman Family History in Liverpool, I've decided to make an effort and see if I can find out exactly who the badge actually belonged to. 

I might, of course, fail.... but at least I will have tried. I can't quite believe it that I haven't started looking into this earlier, and its now spent around fourteen years locked in a cupboard!

I'll now add it to my 'things to do list' and start my research online... then possibly I'll have to make a phone call or two ( and possibly a visit) to the union HQ itself, wherever that now is.

Wish me luck, for this could take some time... but hopefully not fourteen years!  

 

William John Welsh - Grandad's Birthday - 6 June 2019

Graham with his grandad William John (aka Jack Welsh)

...another photo of Graham with his Grandad William John Welsh (b.1897 d.1965)

Remembering my grandad, William John Welsh, who would have been 122 years old had he still been with us today. 

Happy birthday Grandad - missing you. x. 

#familyhistory #seamanfamilyhistory

FRIDAY FOTO 21 - LILIAN WELSH, TOXTETH, LIVERPOOL

(Lilian Welsh - b.1927 / d.1928)

Unfortunately, Lilian Welsh was the aunt I never knew.

She died when only an infant and the only information I had received previously about Lilian's death was that she had fallen in the street, hit her head and subsequently died of meningitis. It was also believed that she had died while in Myrtle Street Hospital, Liverpool.

This information had been passed to me from Lilian's older sister, Betty (Ellen Elizabeth Welsh), but I had no way of substantiating the data until I recently obtained the child's death certificate. However, this record proved that the original information from Betty had been in error.

Lilian had actually passed away on the 22 September 1928 aged only 20 months old. She died while resident at Alder Hey Hospital, in the West Derby district of Liverpool. 

The death was reported by her father William John Welsh on 24 September 1928. William was working as a labourer in the Liverpool docks at the time of his daughter's death. 

Lilian's cause of death was reported to be by her becoming ill with gastroenteritis, the death being certified by Doctor M.Gudwin.

I can't say for sure how my aunt had apparently misremembered the information regarding her sister's unfortunate death. But Betty had been only three years old when Lilian died, so it is unlikely that she had been aware of the event at all herself. More likely that the details of the death had become blurred for her over time, understandable perhaps when considering that it had been around eighty-one years since Lilian had passed away.

Lilian's death was undoubtedly a sad loss for all our family, but speaking as a family historian her story is also perhaps a prime example of why one should never accept such information as true fact, and should take it at face value only-- at least, until such time as there is hard documentary evidence to support it.  

FAMILY HISTORY - ELIZABETH ENGLEBRETSEN IN SERVICE

The above photo shows my gran, Elizabeth ENGLEBRETSEN, on the right of the picture. This was taken when she was a teenager, aged about 16 years old, long before she married my grandfather William John WELSH in 1925.

This was taken when she worked 'in service', helping to look after one of the families who lived in the large mansion houses around Toxteth in Liverpool during the early part of the last century.

She obtained work through a local agency, and this is said to be a copy of a formal advertising photograph, used by the agency to advertise its services.

None of the other girls are immediately recognisable from within our own family, but they must belong to somebody. 

I wonder if anybody can put a name to one of the faces?  

WEDDING WEDNESDAY - UNKNOWN LIVERPOOL WEDDING

The photograph below was discovered in a selection of photo's which were in the possession of my aunt, Ellen Elizabeth WELSH (aka. Betty), when she passed away.

They obviously depict a wedding group, but only a few of the people on it have been identified. The actual location of the wedding is also a mystery, but it is assumed that the church was located somewhere in Liverpool.

The gentleman second from the left is my grandfather, William John WELSH. The lady on the back row next to him is his wife, my grandmother, Elizabeth ENGLEBRETSEN. She is the lady wearing the glasses and the flower on her hat. On the front row, the young girl on the left is their niece, Marion Erlis.

The rest of the people have not as yet been identified.

I have shared this photo with family members and we still have not been able to identify the others in the group. It is a bit of a mystery... and there is no way of telling if the photograph shows some of our relations, or perhaps friends or neighbours.

Only time will tell... although possibly with the help of some kind soul on the Internet who may recognise them!

FAMILY HEIRLOOM - GRANDAD'S SHIRT SUSPENDERS - William John WELSH

5/1/2017 - GRANDAD'S SHIRT SUSPENDERS

For Treasure Chest Thursday I give you a photo of my grandad - William John WELSH, pictured in the backyard of his home in Hughson Street, Toxteth in the mid 1950's.

Near his elbows on each arm, you can just see the folds caused by the elastic suspenders he was wearing, to keep his shirt cuffs clear of his hands which hopefully will keep them a little cleaner.

The shirt suspenders themselves are pictured on the right, and consist of a circle of elastic ribbon covered by thin flexible steel wire. These were left to me by my aunt Betty, Ellen Elizabeth WELSH, prior to her death.

I still keep them in the box with my other jewelry, and wear them sometimes when the occasion arises.

#familyheirlooms #treasurechestthursday #williamjohnwelsh #toxteth #shirtsuspenders 

FAMILY HISTORY - HUGHSON STREET, LIVERPOOL 8

HUGHSON STREET - LIVERPOOL 8 (click for video)

This is a short segment of converted movie film showing some of our family in Hughson Street, Toxteth, Liverpool. As well as seeing a few of the family themselves, there are also glimpses of the area around my gran and grandad's house, with Northumberland Street at one end, after passing Prophet Street just seen on the right. Toxteth Street is at the other end, across Park Street which led up toward our school.

The film was shot around 1965 / 1966 and you can clearly see the 'bommies' - those empty spaces where houses once stood before they were blasted by the German bombs which fell during the war. One of them lies alongside our own house, the bomb falling as my Mum and parents sheltered in their bomb shelter, which stood in the yard just to the left of where my grandma was standing in the above photograph. My very existence being saved by a mixture of pure chance as to where the bomb fell, and also a few layers of sturdy brick. 

 Finally there are some shots of the cobbled streets, new housing being built and also our own back-yard - whitewashed to make it look as sparkling as the washing Gran used to hang on the line.  

Mr brother Gary playing my plastic 'Beatles' guitar, and also myself - on the same toy drum-kit I played on March 1st 1966 while sitting in front of their black and white TV, watching a broadcast of the Beatles live from Shea Stadium.

This is just a short glimpse of our lives back then... I only wish I had more. 

I hope you enjoy it...

FAMILY HISTORY - THE BOMMIE (1959)

The photograph attached here shows a young three year old boy (yours truly) standing in an ordinary street in Liverpool in 1959. The house behind me was the home of my grandparents, Lizzie and William John (aka Jack) Welsh, and it was an ordinary two-up, two-down terrace in Toxteth, just like thousands of others in many similar streets throughout the city.

To the right of the house is what was known in Liverpool as a ‘bommie’. This was a flat area of land, sometimes rubble strewn, which represented all that remained of a building that had been destroyed during the German bombing raids during WW2. Even though it was probably thirteen years after the war had ended when this photograph was taken, it was not the general policy of the local Corporation to spend money rebuilding properties on small pockets of land such as this. What funding they did have was being spent developing new housing estates away from the city centre, out toward the green belt land which would eventually make up the suburbs. So while this piece of rough dirt and broken rubble might well have been a blight on the local landscape, along with countless others like it the land would become a playground for youngsters just like myself, until eventually the entire area would be cleared and redeveloped with new housing many years afterward.

Yours truly in dubious trousers outside my Gran's house in Hughson Street

This bommie had been a house almost exactly the same as the one my grandparents lived in until one fateful night during an air raid when the property took a direct hit from a German bomb.

At the time of the raid the occupant of the house, a lady called Mary O'Prey, was sheltering in my grandmother’s air-raid shelter in the back yard. There would have been plenty of space inside for several families, who would sit out the raid using orange boxes or whatever they could find for seats, wrapping themselves in blankets as protection against the cool night air - their faces illuminated by a couple of flickering candles as they would read or sing songs to their children in an attempt to reassure them. Some of the men would be absent during the raids. Just like Mr O’Prey and my grandfather they had a common duty to fulfill and would be out on the streets, air-raid wardens who braved the elements and the bombs to patrol their local area.

The sound from the bombs plunging down from the sky around them must have been deafening; with hundreds of explosions being heard from Dingle to the town centre as the shadowy swarm passed by overhead. The growing drone from hundreds of aero engines filled the air, but presently even these were superceded by the unmistakable whistle and banshee wailing of a German bomb falling worryingly close by. All would hold their breath and pull their babies closer to them, closing eyes and muttering words of comfort to themselves as the sound grew to a terrifying crescendo. It would have ended with a sickening thud, followed almost immediately by an enormous explosion - the sudden noise shaking the ground and also the strong brick walls which surrounded them. Slowly, as the noise died away and dust settled within the shelter, Mrs O’Prey was heard to turn to my Gran and say: 'There you go. You've lost your house Lizzie!". However, when the all-clear was finally given and everyone made their way wearily out of the shelter, it was only then that the woman realized it was, in fact, her own home which had actually been destroyed. The shock and devastation she had probably felt at that time just cannot be imagined.

And so it was that thankfully, my family was one of those who had the good fortune to survive those terrible nights in Liverpool. If it would have been any different, or the bomb had fallen a few feet further over to the left, then that three year old boy might well not be around to tell the story he’s telling now. However, my family were not the only individuals who had good fortune that night. As a postscript to this story I can reveal that the family had a pet dog which was reportedly in the house at the time of the blast. The dog was later found, shaken but alive, inside a house in Fernie Street about thirty yards away. It had been blown up into the air by the force of the explosion and sailed right through a back window of the property to land within the bedroom beyond!

Some of those same Fernie Street properties can be seen in the photo behind me but alas, the name or breed of the fortunate dog is not known.