Dad was born John Wyllie Macaulay on
the 25th May 1925 and would have been 89 next month. Everyone knew Dad as Jack
or Jackie.
Dad will always be remembered for two
things; his pipe and a glass of whisky or as he termed it his "wee
dram"
Dad grew up in Maryhill and may
explain his love for Partick Thistle which he managed to pass on to us. Dad would be taken to Firhill and
then lifted over the turnstile and this was subsequently done with Kenneth and
I when we were young we would be taken to the games and lifted over the
turnstile.
By following Partick Thistle Dad
taught us a very valuable lesson in that it wasn't always black or white or
even green or blue, it could be red and yellow. Dad taught us that it was
perfectly acceptable not to be "one of the crowd" that we could in
this case follow a football team that wasn't the popular one and to stand up
for what we believed in.
In the past few days we have been
going through a lot of the documents that he had kept and came across a school
report card from North Kelvinside which
he attended. In first year after his first set of exams Dad was ranked 2nd in
the class of 33. This was amazing to read because Dad had always told us he
didn't do well at school and encouraged the 4 of us to work hard at school
which we did and we all went on to third level education.
Dad joined the Navy in 1943 at the
age of 18 and served on many different aircraft carriers. Dad was discharged
from the Navy in 1946 and then took up an apprenticeship to become a grate builder.
While working on a fireplace in a house Knightswood he met the love of his life
Myra McRobbie.
Myra and Jack were married on 28th
February 1949 and in December of the same year the first little Mac appeared, Jacqueline
who was then followed by Kenneth, Gale and myself.
Dad then switched his craft from
grate building to become a tiler, this was because he would tell everyone he
had a "flair" for it after laying the last kitchen or bathroom floor
tile.
Dad was a very proud man and took
great care in his work. He worked for amongst others Norman Campbell tiling
company and whenever they took on jobs the request was usually we will give you
the work as long as Jackie Macaulay is doing the job. The great legacy for the
family is that Dad's work is still scattered around Glasgow, he worked on the
swimming pool on the QE2, Queen Street Station, Drumchapel swimming pool to
name but a very small examples. There was a time when if you drove through
Bearsden and saw the front steps tiled with "Rustic Red" or "Autumn
Gold" chances were that Jack had tiled them.
We always had a laugh when we were
out for dinner, because whenever we went somewhere to eat in Glasgow, chances
were that dad had tiled the bathrooms. However, on the few occasions he didn't
do the work himself he would immediately excuse himself and go and inspect the
work of someone else. Dad would then return with a whole list of why the tiling
job was particularly bad.
Dad cared very much for the family
and when working at a time when the building trade was required to work on
Christmas day would wait until all the kids had gone to the living room to see
what Santa had brought, Dad would then head off to work at the risk of getting
the sack.
Dad worked at a time when the man
earned the living and the woman stayed at home bringing up the kids. Jack and
Myra always put the 4 of us first and knew that our education was so important
to us all.
Dad worked very hard and took on
additional jobs or "homers" as they were called to bring additional
income. He would do evening jobs and also worked week-ends to provide for us.
Dad finally made the decision to
become self employed, he was always afraid that he wouldn't have enough work.
Nothing could have been further from the truth. Dad never advertised and always
had work through recommendations, he was so busy he took on additional folk to
cope with the work.
Everyone can remember showbiz double
acts, Morecombe and Wise, The two Ronnies etc, but the tiling trade had its own
celebrity couple, Jack and Jake. Jake was our Golden Cocker Spaniel who
travelled with Dad on his jobs. Dad would get most of the tiles for his jobs at
the CTD and between the smell of the pipe and the scent left by the cocking of
his leg ( I am referring to the dog here and not Dad) everyone could tell that
the tiles were delivered from the CTD with that unique aroma of pipe smoke and
pee.
We had a unique alarm clock in our
house, this involved being woken to the sound of scraping, and by that I mean
the scraping of burnt toast over the kitchen sink. Cooking wasn't one of Dad's
strong points, but he more than made up for it in being a truly wonderful Dad.
I couldn't talk about Dad without
discussing his driving.
There are numerous stories to tell
but I have picked out a couple which I think are worth telling.
Dad learned to drive at a relatively
older age compared to most people. There was a time when he had his provisional
licence and Kenneth and Dad were heading to Johnstone to do a job. Dad was on
the motorway (which he shouldn't have been) and was driving in his Morris
Minor. Kenneth was watching the speedometer reach 85mph and said to Dad that
the speed limit was 70mph. Dad turned to Kenneth and said "Oh I thought
that you had to be above 70mph"
Another time was when we headed off
to Firhill to see Partick Thistle play. On this particular occasion he didn't
have his usual parking spot and we were parking beside the canal. As we are
looking for a place to park there are lots of folk getting out of their cars
and walking to the ground. Dad then finds a parking space and then starts to
reverse in. As he does the car goes over a little bump. There is a lot of
shouting and as we look out, the little bump was someone's foot. The guy was
very annoyed and approached the car. dad rolls down the window unaware of what
he had done. Dad as always had his pipe in his mouth. As the guy approached Dad
he just grabbed my Dad's pipe. The look on his face was priceless as he
couldn't believe that someone had the audacity to take his pipe. Everything was
calmed down and we went to the game staying several yards behind the guy
limping to the ground.
Everyone has heard of Alton Towers
and the scary rides that are in the theme park.
Well we had our own "White
Knuckle Ride" and it usually took place every time we got into the car
with Dad.
The White Knuckle Ride was as
follows:
Driving as closely as possible to the
curb without touching it, for the most part, it was only every touched when we
turned left. As well as driving as close to the curb as possible, the car was about
one foot away from the car in front. So you have the picture, now while all
this is going on Dad would then decide to light his pipe. This then involved
balancing the steering wheel between his knees while searching his pockets with
both hands looking for his pipe followed by looking for his tobacco. Dad would
then fill his pipe, remember we are about 1 mm from the curb and about a foot
away from the car in front. Once the pipe is filled, the lighting of the pipe
then followed. This meant that the car was filled with pipe smoke as all the
windows were up, Dad didn't like the cold. The car would become so filled with
pipe smoke it was impossible to see out the front window.
However, in saying all that, we were
all brought and returned safe and sound but not without the odd scare.
Dad and Mum were great dancers, and
whenever there was a party everyone would step back and give Myra and Jack the
space to do their jiving. In his latter years when he went to Frank Downie
House, he would love teaching everyone how to dance.
Dad had a brilliant sense of humour -
when he was tiling he would always tell the lady of the house that there was a
50p piece under one of the tiles. When I was working with him the lady would
pull me to the side and ask me which tile had the 50p piece under it. I would
play along and say that it was back luck to reveal it.
When Dad moved down to Dumbarton he
took great delight in telling everyone at St Augustine's he was Father's
Father. He also took on the role as bouncer at the coffee mornings in the
church. He took great joy in charging everyone their entrance money.
Before Dad went to Frank Downie he
spent a short time in a home in Cardross. Dad had to go out to the back to have
his smoke, while out he would then run to the front of the house and ring the front door bell and then dash back around to the back acting all innocent.
Dad was cared for very well in the
Frank Downie House and to the staff and carers we are extremely grateful. Sandra, Caroline and Kate are here today who cared for Dad for a lot of the time he was at Frank Downie House.
Dad was a very proud Pappa of his 6
grandchildren, Graham Barry, David, Matthew, Hannah & Eve. He was very
proud of what they have all achieved in their lives and loved them dearly.
We have a new generation started now
with Alana and Hailey and I am sure Graham and Matthew will have great stories
to tell them about their Pappa as their children grow up.
I have tried to give you an insight
into Jack Macaulay, our Dad, was he perfect, not at all, was he a good Dad, he was
the best. A wonderful man who always put his family first.
Mum passed away 15 years ago on Holy
Week and it is very symbolic that Dad passed away on Holy Week as well.
Dad would want us to be happy today
and to celebrate his life.
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