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Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Why I joined Facebook's County Tyrone Network

My grandmother, I'm told, was born at Cookstown, County Tyrone in Northern Ireland.
Her name was Caroline Kempton and upon her death at Montreal, Canada, Granny was laid to rest beside her beloved, Leonard Edmund Woodbourne Jones, my grampa who died himself at Montreal in 1939. I never knew Granny Caroline and when Grampa Leonard died, I was but 2 years old.

(Sgt.) Leonard Edmund Woodbourne Jones, was born at Woolwich Arsenal, England (http://www.greenwich.gov.uk/Greenwich/LeisureCulture/HistoryAndHeritage/Woolwich.htm), and his brother's name was Ted.

In the early 1970's, I had a unique opportunity to meet my Uncle Ted and his wife in west-end Montreal. One day, my dad telephoned to mysteriously summon me to meet him near the Kent Theatre in Notre Dame de Grace (NDG) as quickly as possible, saying that his brother, my Uncle Ronny, would be there too. I did and the three of us then walked a few streets over to a Sherbrooke Street West apartment at Grand Boulevard. As we walked, my dad explained we were about to meet his Uncle Ted. And so we did minutes later when Ted opened his door to welcome us.

Ted was fit and well-tanned having spent time in Florida. His wife sat comfy and barefoot in a corner upholstered chair all the while knitting, knitting and smiling quietly to herself. My dad and I both stood 6 feet tall, while Ronny was 6' 4" and we all towered above Ted. Despite his age, Ted was robust, even more I thought than my dad seemed at that moment. Ted owed his good health he said to a Pacemaker implanted in his chest and unbuttoned his shirt to proudly show us his surgical implant scar. A group photo was taken of the four of us smiling happily and standing altogether, a wonderful souvenir which I haven't seen in years.

Earlier that week, my mom had answered the doorbell to find an elegant elderly couple at her doorstep. The gentleman smiled brightly and asked, "Does Lenny Jones live here?".

In astonishment, my mom soon came to realise it was Uncle Ted and his wife, recently returned to Montreal from Florida. Until that astounding moment, Ted's whereabouts had been a mystery to my folks since he attended my grampa's funeral in 1939.

In the 1930's Ted had worked as a shipper for Canada Packers in Montreal, but lost his job after a customer complained one of Ted's shipments of a case of creamery butter had been delivered to his store in error. Somehow, news of Ted's dismissal by Canada Packers reached the headquarters of an American trade union and Ted was soon contacted with an offer of employment in Montreal as their local representative. He accepted and apparently did well in his new job with the trade union, saving enough funds to purchase and operate a motel near the Quebec Laurentian Mountains community of Rawdon. Eventually, Ted retired and moved to Florida.

Two weeks after meeting my uncle for the first time in my life, Ted's Pacemaker failed and he died.

Caroline Kempton-Jones gave birth to three sons, Leonard, Ronald and Roy who perished as an infant of malnutrition, having starved to death at her breast.

Playing truant as a youngster whilst his father was away playing soldier, my dad Leonard trudged along railway tracks to gather lumps of coal fallen from steam locomotive tenders which his mom then used to heat her tarpaper shack home for her dear wee babes.

As a boy, my dad also worked as a Printer's Devil, cleaning lead type until caught by the truancy policeman, he was sent back to school. As a young adult, he worked in the stock exchange, chaulking numbers on the Big Board and then one day met the love of his life, Marjorie Winch who worked at Bank of Montreal Head Office in St James Street, Montreal. They married and I was born.

Nearly 72 years later as the last man standing with Uncle Ted in that missing group photo and searching for my family's roots, I joined Facebook's County Tyrone Network.