Got seduced this weekend into wandering around the UK census records on the internet seaching for scraps of information about my grandparents, etc. So far I’ve got back to the 1850s without trying that hard. The experience reminded of me how small the world has become. There’s a saying that we are all only seven steps away from the rest of the world; you know someone who knows someone who knows… seven times and you have contacted everyone on this planet. Sounds farfetched, even to me, but it has, apparently, been proven to be true. And so I discovered that I am only three steps away from the American actor James Stewart, a long-standing favourite of mine.
So, how can that be…? After WW1 my grandfather was in the CID in London but apparently had to resign in a hurry. The matter made the ‘News of the World’ – though I can’t find out what happened. I suspect a bit of corruption was the case as an off-shore banking account surfaced years after he died. My grandparents never had any money worth speaking of when they were alive. Or so everyone was led to believe...
The ex-policeman became a private detective and, in between being the house detective for the Lyons Corner Shops in London, did a spell working for Bernard Docker in the 1930s. Docker later became known for all sorts of things – gold-plated Daimlers, accusations of dodgy business with money, and a rather glamorous and outrageous second wife. My grandfather worked for him around the time of Mr Docker getting divorced from Mrs Docker No1. He married Jeanne Stuart in 1933. It was a dreadful mistake, all went horribly wrong, and they divorced in 1935 – quite a scandal at the time. Jeanne Stuart was an actor, quite well-known and successful. After the divorce she went back to the stage, and supposedly had a three year relationship with James Stewart, before he went to war, came back, married and settled down. And that is how I am three steps away from James Stewart.
It would have been good to have asked my grandfather about this side of his life – what exactly did happen when he was a policeman and what was it like working for the Dockers? But he’s long gone now, and so are those who might have known more of the story than I’ve been able to find so far. Somewhere I have a paper napkin with family trees sketched in it during a family outing to the local posh carvery when my mother and uncle worked their way through all the relatives they could remember. By the end of that lunch I had several new cousins and great aunts/uncles I never knew I had. But until I can find that piece of paper it’s a matter of trawling the on-line archives when I should be reading or writing that essay.
Hang on though, the essay is about modernity and postmodernity, and that means things like globalisation and the world getting smaller. Wonder if I could get Jimmy Stewart into it somehow…?
So, how can that be…? After WW1 my grandfather was in the CID in London but apparently had to resign in a hurry. The matter made the ‘News of the World’ – though I can’t find out what happened. I suspect a bit of corruption was the case as an off-shore banking account surfaced years after he died. My grandparents never had any money worth speaking of when they were alive. Or so everyone was led to believe...
The ex-policeman became a private detective and, in between being the house detective for the Lyons Corner Shops in London, did a spell working for Bernard Docker in the 1930s. Docker later became known for all sorts of things – gold-plated Daimlers, accusations of dodgy business with money, and a rather glamorous and outrageous second wife. My grandfather worked for him around the time of Mr Docker getting divorced from Mrs Docker No1. He married Jeanne Stuart in 1933. It was a dreadful mistake, all went horribly wrong, and they divorced in 1935 – quite a scandal at the time. Jeanne Stuart was an actor, quite well-known and successful. After the divorce she went back to the stage, and supposedly had a three year relationship with James Stewart, before he went to war, came back, married and settled down. And that is how I am three steps away from James Stewart.
It would have been good to have asked my grandfather about this side of his life – what exactly did happen when he was a policeman and what was it like working for the Dockers? But he’s long gone now, and so are those who might have known more of the story than I’ve been able to find so far. Somewhere I have a paper napkin with family trees sketched in it during a family outing to the local posh carvery when my mother and uncle worked their way through all the relatives they could remember. By the end of that lunch I had several new cousins and great aunts/uncles I never knew I had. But until I can find that piece of paper it’s a matter of trawling the on-line archives when I should be reading or writing that essay.
Hang on though, the essay is about modernity and postmodernity, and that means things like globalisation and the world getting smaller. Wonder if I could get Jimmy Stewart into it somehow…?
No comments:
Post a Comment