Melvyn & Sharron Pearson |Tandragee|Co Armagh BT62

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PEARSON AUNTS &  UNCLES

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I remember all my Pearson aunts and uncles except for Herbie who died at age 18 with peritonitis that was misdiagnosed as growing pains.  None went on to fame but all made their mark on memory in some way.  

Uncle Jimmy went off to England to seek his fortune, married a cockney lass and lived his life in the Watford area of London.  He did make frequent trips to see his mother Harriet and siblings.  I can remember that the vast majority of visits ended in highly heated debates with my dad and Ivon and Jackie over trade unionism or politics.  Crooked in drink were my dads’ words for Jimmy. He and wife Peggy had three of a family Doreen who still keeps contact with County Armagh, John and Alan.

Freddie married Pat Bunting daughter of the aforementioned Bob Bunting ex RSM of the King’s Own Scottish Borderers, and had two children Dawn and Shirley.  He still lives in Coronation Street, Laurelvale and frequents the Cricket Club for his pint. Dawn and Shirley, still white haired live in Laurelvale and have grown up families of their own.

Jackie married Ruby from Banbridge after having served in the Royal Navy for a while and set up house in Manchester.  He was the good-looking one according to mum and I remember him as suave and sophisticated looking. I think the well-groomed full beard gave that impression.  He had a few pound and this was bequeathed to Doreen, Jimmy’s daughter on his death.  After Ruby died Jackie became an odd sole travelling the British Isles in a Green Peace mode with his two pet lurcher dogs.  He died in southern Ireland and is buried in Mullavilly Churchyard beside Granda Jack, Granny Harriet, his wife Ruby and Herbie.  He always sported a full beard and was well groomed.  He drove a shooting break as my dad called them, a Morris Minor Estate with wooden bits that Ivon eventually ended up with.  Jackie made numerous visits to the family home in Quality Hill, Laurelvale and was part of the Pearson brother entourage to Watson's Pub when they got together.

Woolsley also moved to England and lived near Bath, Wiltshire. He was a successful contractor and married to Velma. He did not visit as much and only made the trip for family funerals and the like.  He had two daughters Rachael and Rebecca one of which married a solicitor and had a very plush wedding it is said.

Ossie married Ellen Black and settled in a little house near Cordraine, where Sam Milligan’s farmhouse now stands.  He was a keen sportsman and huntsman and a claim to fame he scored 100 runs for Laurelvale as a lad.  I actually got the bat he was presented with, and my dad sawed the end of it to ‘' make it fit'.  Many a six we hit with it on the Ridge, which was my nursery for cricket, a much taken up sport by most of the Pearsons from Laurelvale. Ossie set about making family in a vigorous way and had five sons, Herbie, Denver, Wayne, Jervis and David all of which still live in Laurelvale.  Ossie was an upholsterer by trade and Ellie done the stitching.  He was fond of mans best friend and kept hounds for many years.  He was fond of a tipple and a laugh and was loved by all who knew him.  Unfortunately he succumbed to Leukaemia and died a short time after Ellie.  They are both buried in Mullavilly Parish Church, County Armagh.

Ivon was the youngest of my Pearson uncles and someone whom I admired for many reasons, possibly his James Dean attitude, or that was how he seemed to me.  He was the uncle I identified with most and could speak to on a one to one basis.  Many things spring to mind when I think of Ivon.  He was an excellent artist and dabbled in watercolour, collage, crayon and felt tip, but his favourite media was oils. I can still remember the linseed oil and turps smell in 24 Quality Hill and the small shed in the garden that I spoke of earlier regarding Isaac's shoemaking paraphernalia.  He was and still is a very talented artist and still puts it into practice in his adopted hometown Kilkeel by sign writing on the boats of the Kilkeel Fishing Fleet, the odd mural on the wall and painting for pleasure. More oft than not his canvases were given to people he knew and the price could have been as low as a pint or a conversation.  The paintings were in my mind worth a lot more than the paltry sums he got as reward.  He also painted handkerchiefs for a while in local hostelries in Kilkeel with designs many and varied.  Down the years he painted lambeg drums or touched them up for local Orange lodges and again I can still remember the lambeg drum shells and drum hoops hanging in the shed at the rear of 24 Quality Hill.

Ivon would literally spend hours painting and Harriet would sometimes throw the odd teddy bear when tubes of paint bottles of turps and the like were left strewn in the living quarter of Number 24.  I can also remember vividly a large oil painting taking up almost a complete side of the said shed of the ‘' The Last Supper ''.  He worked on this particular project for many hours and the artwork was if I can remember right much sought after by The Reverend Fred Gowing the rector of Mullavilly who visited my gran quite often in later years for a natter and to administer if that is the correct phrase, Holy Communion, as she was not able to attend church.

I remember Ivon as an accomplished cricketer for Laurelvale First XI It was said he was a natural at school when Mullavilly Primary was a cricket force to be reckoned with. They competed with the local Portadown schools like Thomas Street and Church Street.  I think attendance at Primary School in the late 1940's early 50’s was up to the age of 16 years.  He was an all rounder and batted right-handed yet bowled left-handed a peculiarity shared with his brother, my dad Charlie.  This was I think from all left handed scholars attending Mullavilly years ago being made to put pen to paper with their right hand or bear the brunt yea impact of Mr. Loney's cane, a past headmaster of Public Elementary Number 1.  Back to Ivon and the cricket, I started my cricket career with Laurelvale by going to all the matches I could with Uncle Ivon.  It was a big look forward for me and many times I remember I had to waken Ivon who would still be suffering from one times quite large head, after the night be fore’s supping in Tandragee, in order that he would be up and dressed and not miss the lift which would have been supplied by Tom Simpson, Big Bob Stewart, Wesley Cloughley or The mighty Quinn, Bob.  Many times he could not be raised from his pit and Harriet would be distraught. Many times we set off on the journey to Ulidia, Derryaghy or Dunmurry with Ivon not at his ‘’very best’’.  He would have been chastised by fatherly figures like Tom Atkinson but it made no difference.  It reminds me now of a George Best Saga, a very great talent not being put to the full and I am sure Ivon will forgive me this observation and agree that his artistic knack and sporting aptitude were somewhat not executed to their fullest extent.

There we go again, the evil drink and the Pearson name.  My dad was a a sort of father or imposed a father figure on Ivon and gave him many a talking to, chastising, warnings and all that type of fatherly bits and pieces of which I am all to well aware as my father was an exacting disciplinarian, but more of dad later on.