Another sad story from my meanderings. It's almost 25 years now since I started my family history research. It brought me back in touch with my cousin Valerie Whitby who emigrated to Australia in 1968.
I found out that she had been involved in the same hobby for a few years by then. She passed on information to me along with little snippets of information from her mother Nora who was my dad's sister. Sadly my dad died in 1969 so I was unable to learn about the family from him.
This is the story about one of my paternal grandmother Sarah Mycock's elder sisters Hannah. Hannah was 5 years older than Sarah being born in 1875.
Hannah married Herbert Cubitt on 13th September 1902 in Stockport. Witnesses to the marriage were her sister Sarah and Berties Cheetham. Berties was either Sarah's boyfriend or fiance as she later married him the following year.
Herbert and Hannah had 3 children, Fred born 5th April 1903 Mary Edith born 17th September 1904 and Millicent born 29th October 1907.
The sad story from my aunty Nora was that Fred drowned in the canal in the village of Romiley where they lived. Today while looking through old newspaper records I searched for Fred.
On 18th September 1918, 15 year old Fred and some other boys, who were on a breakfast break from their work at Chadkirk Print works in Romiley, were playing football when their ball went into the river Goyt which was flowing fast due to flooding. Fred went into the river to retrieve the ball but was carried away by the fast flowing water. Another boy Peter Beswick jumped in to attempt to rescue him and was almost carried away too. Sadly he was unable to rescue Fred.
The newspaper article I read was about an award made to Peter for his very brave attempt to rescue Fred. He receive a certificate and a very handsome watch.
Very tragic for the family but the sad part to me is that there is nobody left of the family to remember Fred. Both his sisters lived to a good age but neither had any children so that line of the family ended.
I knew both ladies well but don't remember them ever speaking of Fred. They were my dad's cousins and I always called them aunty. Aunty Edie was my godmother and I used to like spending time at her house listening to her gramophone in the late 1950s. Her favourite record was Softly Softly by Ruby Murray. I used to stay there in my early teens when I didn't want to go on holiday with Dad and mum.
I didn't see aunty Millie as often but one memory is of the corner shop near her house always comes to mind when I watch Open all Hours. Her husband, uncle Norman, was a policeman and he was very tall. She made a lovely potato hash with left over turkey at Christmas.
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