The Lost Photograph

Growing up as a child, my experience of an extended family was limited. My maternal grandfather passed away when my mother was still a child and my paternal grandfather passed away shortly after I was born. My farther had three bothers, one a year older and the other a year younger than himself. They all saw service during the second world war and he was the only one that returned.

Mine was thus not a large family in South Africa and this significantly reduced the number of opportunities that I had to learn more about the family from the family itself. The fact that these family connections were geographically dispersed further reduced opportunities for interaction.

Neither of my parents spoke much about their own families. We also only had photographs of our immediate family. So in my late teens in the early 1960's I was very surprised to discover that my father had a paternal uncle living in South Africa. During my matric year he suddenly appeared, spent a night and I never saw him again. His visit was hugely significant as he left behind several photographs and a press cutting.

The most impressive of these photograph was one of my paternal great grandfather and his family posing in what seemed to be a field of cabbages somewhere in Scotland. Unfortunately this photograph is now lost. It is also not the lost photograph the title of this tale refers to. The other photographs included a family photograph of my father's family, probably taken just before they three elder brothers left to serve in various fronts in the Second World War. The other photographs were of the three elder brothers in their respective service uniforms. I still have these photographs and they are the only ones I had ever seen of my father and his family.

The press cutting was an obituary written in the "More Lowe Life" column of the Glasgow evening paper, "The Times". It was written for my great grandfather Robert Dempster, of 10 Morn Street, Alyth, and it recalled his efforts to improve the lot of workers in Scotland. The cabbage photograph and the press cutting together sparked an interest in my own genealogy. It was only much later that I actually started to try and find out more about my family's roots. My first attempt was whilst working in Melbourne Australia in 1992 where I spent some time looking through Mormon microfiche records. This technology tested my patience and as a result I did not make much progress.

Subsequently I have trolled the Internet for "Robert Dempster of 10 Morn Street, Alyth" once or twice a year without any luck until a year and a half ago. This time two hits were returned for letters published in the Alyth News. Further investigation led to the discovery of a second cousin, Mary, who lived in the United Kingdom and was been doing research on my paternal family tree. In addition, and somewhat to my own embarrassment, she not only seemed to have more photographs of my great grandparents that I had, she also seemed to know more about my paternal grandfather than I did.

Since then we have corresponded a couple of times a year. She is waiting for me to retire and troll the Natal Archives for information regarding my grandfather and some other relatives. Thinking that I already have all the photographs that she could send to me I was surprised recently when another photograph arrives attached to an email message. It is a studio photograph, probably taken in Durban, of my grandfather and grandmother together with their three sons. It came to Mary as a result of a distant relative of hers who had recently passing away in the USA. Those tidying up her affairs found some photographs her distant relatives and took the trouble to try and send them to those who might cherish them.

Amongst those photographs was my lost photograph. It is a studio photograph of my paternal grandparents and the then three young sons. It must have been taken in Durban as I know they lived in McDonald Road in Glenwood at that time. It is a lovely photograph and the only one that probably exists of my father as a child. It fills a huge hole. Receiving it left a huge mark on me and has resulted in me reassessing my own rather poor relationship with my farther. Until then, I had never fully appreciated what had shaped my father as a man. He returned from the Second World War without his two bothers. Shortly after that he lost his own father. Maybe he simply did not want to talk about his family. I can now understand that now, and it is OK.

date created: 2 August 2011

Robert Dempster [email protected]

last updated: 2 August 2011