Stephen Roberts is a passionate researcher of the past, yet it was only last year – when he came to clear his mother’s home – that he uncovered a time-capsule of papers that revealed to him the life of the granddad he never knew
When my mother passed away aged 90 in June 2022, I was faced with the unenviable task of clearing her house in order that it could be sold, a sad end to a life long lived and the chattels life had accumulated.
Knowing mum’s circumstances I never expected to find a Rembrandt in the attic, but I was keen to retain anything of sentimental value. It was whilst rooting about in a wardrobe I discovered an old biscuit tin, which I had little expectation of, yet it revealed a time capsule of letters and documents taking me back to the granddad I never knew.
Introducing Edward O’Hagan (“Granddad”)
Edward O’Hagan was born on 8 December 1869 at 77 Arlington Street, Salford, his father James O’Hagan (flax dresser), his mother Ellen O’Hagan, née Gibson, who was the informant signing the certified copy of an entry of birth with her mark (a cross). The birth was registered on 15 January 1870 in the District of Greengate, Salford.
I knew little about the man destined to be my granddad and particularly regarding his early life. He died in December 1935 aged in his mid-60s when mum was approaching her fourth birthday. She barely spoke about him because she barely knew him. He’d been gone well over 20 years by the time I was born.
Although the treasure trove of documents I’d discovered told me nothing about Edward’s early life, they opened a window on the adult who served in the Army and merchant marine, then fell head over heels in love whilst navigating the oceans.
Introducing … Maud Mary Lee (“Gran”)
Maud Mary Lee (born 28 November 1891) married George Herbert Thompson in June 1915 in Shrewsbury, Maud’s birthplace. Maud was 23, her husband 32. One legacy of that marriage was a girl who’d become mum’s half-sister and my auntie, Marjorie Thompson, born May 1916. It was the first of two occasions when Maud married older men.
She was a real beauty, a head-turner in her younger days – when granddad caught up with a by then widowed Maud in 1928, he must have been immediately besotted. Being over 20 years her senior though, he’d clearly suffer an insecurity about the vibrant, younger woman, something that’s all too clear in some of the soul-searching laments he wrote ho
