My grandfather, fatherless child, bakers boy and miner.
My grandfather, fatherless child, bakers boy and miner.
My Grandfathers father died when he was 11. Like all these dead miners children he grew up fatherless from this young age. I know his life would have been so much easier had his father not died in an accident.
My Grandfather had been born in Devon but moved to South Africa with his stone mason father and housewife mother, sister and older brother when he was very little.
At first they did reasonably well. But then when my Great-grandfather died and then my Grandad’s older brother died of a perforated appendix my Grandad had to become the family breadwinner.
So my 12 year old grandfather left school went out to work as the Bakers boy, helping to bake and to deliver cake and bread. When he was old enough he joined the mine. He even became a Stoper to earn more money. It meant placing dynamite in tiny tunnels and setting it off. Not a safe sort of job.
He married my Grandmother and had three children. In his 40’s he went to night school and got his matric. He had the most wonderful copperplate handwriting. Then he went to mine safety school and became a safety officer. My mother has years worth’s of safety prizes – he won them every year for years as he could not accept accidents on his watch.
Many years later he told stories of his distress when black miners were beaten, of the time his helper fell through a hole and he couldn’t save him. He did not tell them before as he had not wanted to worry his wife or children with them. And of the time there was a strike and he was supposed to hand the list of demands to the bosses. And how when he walked forward and did so he thought the others were following him – only to look back and see they had let him walk forward on his own.
He was a sensitive man, loving, kind but really brave you see...He never raised his hand his children and did not agree with violence of any kind.
His children grew up to be a specialist doctor, a high school teacher and a social worker. All his grandchildren also now have degrees most with at least two.
He worked hard all his life to make sure his family did well. He got up a 3 every morning and cycled to work. He had emphysema from his long life underground.
He gave and made do so that we could flourish.
That, dear fathers out there, is what a real mensch, a real grown-up father is. To those (like my own husband) who are like him I say thank you! To those that don’t I say – try a bit every day to be a better father in the future. We need men who are real fathers and real men.
Being fatherless is a crushing condition, one that alters the course of a child’s life and almost always for the worst...