our frank
DESCRIPTION
ISTD project 2013. A book celebrating my Granda's life using typography as the central theme.TRANSCRIPT
For Sadie, Ann-Marie, Frank, Geraldine & Hugh.
By Paul McNally
““one day frank you’ll be a greattrain driver just like my father and grandfather…
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{The Life Of An Unsung Hero}
one day frank you’ll be a greattrain driver just like my father and grandfather…
OUR SONOUR DADOUR GRANDADOUR UNCLEOUR BROTHEROUR POSTMANOUR HEROOUR FRANK.
On the 8th of June 1930 in 44 Lonsdale StrÕt, BelfaÌ, a baby boy was born and named after his father Francis Joseph
McNally. Our Frank.
This is a guidebook to his life and the areas that were a big part of who he was. There are ten stops on the tour, you can find these on the tour map and using the 'Our Frank' app., available free to download from the iTunes store. The app. uses Augmented RealiÙ technology and at each stop along the tour you can access lots more information and imagery about Our Frank and his eventful life. This book is a guide to accompany the tour and also a short hiÌory
of Frank's life. Take the tour and sample the life of an unsung hero.
Map Guide
Stop 1: St Patrick's Chapel, 199 Donegall Street, BelfastStop 2: York Street Train Station, York Street, BelfastStop 3: Ravenhill Road, Belfast Stop 4: Hatfield Street, Ormeau Road, BelfastStop 5: Royal Mail Office, Tomb Street, BelfastStop 6: Ormeau Park, Ormeau Road, BelfastStop 7: Ormeau Bridge, Ormeau Road, BelfastStop 8: Pottingers Entry, High Street, Belfast.Stop 9: Botanic Gardens, Stranmillis Embankment, BelfastStop 10: St Malachy's Chapel, Alfred Street, Belfast
Use the 'Our Frank' app. to access much more information aboutthe life of Frank at each of these tour stops. Available from iTunes.
Tour Map
River Lagan River Lagan River Lagan
RavenHill Rd. RavenH
ill Rd. RavenHill Rd. RavenH
ill Rd. RavenHill Rd.
East Bridge St. East Bridge St. | Albertbridge Rd.
Ann St. Ann St. Ann St. | Bridge End Bridge End Bridge EndOxford St. O
xford St.
Victoria St. Victoria St.C
romac St.
Donegal Quay
Albert SquareWaring St.
Orm
eau Rd. Orm
eau Rd. Orm
eau Rd. Orm
eau Rd. Orm
eau Rd.
Tomb St.
Howard St. | Donegal Sq. S. | May St.
Wellington Pl. | Donegal Sq. N. | Chichester St.
Castle St. | Castle Place | High St. High St.
Donegal St. Donegal St.
York St. York St. Royal Avenue
Alfred St. A
lfred St.
Stranm
ill is E
mbankment
Stranm
ill is E
mbankment
Ormeau Ave. Ormeau Ave.
Donegal Pass Donegal Pass Donegal Pass
Bedford St. Bedford St.
Dubli
n Rd.
City
Hall City Hall City
Dunbar Link D
unbar Link
1 2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
THE EIGHTH DAYOF JUNE IN THE YEAR ONE THOUSAND NINE HUNDRED AND THIRTY.
THE EIGHTH DAYOF JUNE IN THE YEAR ONE THOUSAND NINE HUNDRED AND THIRTY.
LATITUDE: 54.60529LONGITUDE: -5.93238
1
†On the 13th June 1930 Francis Joseph McNally was chriÌened at St. Patrick's Chapel at 199 Donegall StrÕt, BelfaÌ. A chapel or church
has Ìood on these grounds for more than 700 years. In the 1306 taxation of Pope Nicholas, for the Crusades, it is titled:
“The White Church of Shankill”.
FRANCIS JOSEPH McNALLY
MOTORMAN FOR GNR
MARRIED SUSAN DINNEN
FOUR CHILDREN WITH SUSAN
FOURTH CHILD WAS DANIEL
LIVED 1911-1914 AT 85 COLLYER St.
1918 DAUGHTER ALICE DIES
FRANK BUYS MILLTOWN GRAVE
SUSAN DIES OR LEAVES
FRANK MARRIES MARY-ANN McCORMICK
THEY HAVE FOUR CHILDREN
JOSEPHINE DIES AGED FOUR MONTHS
FRANK DIES IN 1932, AGED 57
{24.04.1905}
{ALICE, ROBERT & ONE DECEASED,1911 CENSUS}
{BORN 1913}
{MARY, PATRICK, JOSEPHINE AND FRANK.}
{1919}
{GREAT NORTHERN RAILWAY}
{BORN BELFAST, 1876}
{UNKNOWN}
{AT PURDYSBURN HOSPITAL}
OUR FRANK'S FATHER
MARY-ANN McNALLY, née McCORMICK
BORN IN BENONE, Co. DERRY
FATHER, JOHN McCORMICK
HAD A BROTHER TOM AND SISTER GRACE
MARRIES FRANK BETWEEN 1919 AND 1925
16 YEARS YOUNGER THAN FRANK
DAUGHTER JOSEPHINE DIES
FRANK DIES AGED 57
PUTS HER CHILDREN INTO CARE
PADDY IS MOVED TO PURDYSBURN
BUYS A HOUSE AT WALNUT PLACE
FIRST RECORD OF HER IN BELFAST IS 1951
MARY-ANN DIES IN 1974, AGED 83
OUR FRANK'S MOTHER
{FARMER}
{08.10.28 AT UNION HOSPITAL, BELFAST}
{1891}
{1939}
{08.06.1974}
{07.06.32 AT PURDYSBURN HOSPITAL, BELFAST}
{1939-41}
LATITUDE: 54.60809LONGITUDE: -5.92542
2
His father was Frank McNally and his mother was Mary-Ann McNally, née McCormick.
They lived near ‘Sailortown’ in BelfaÌ's docks area; a thriving port area full of interesting hard-working characters. Life wasn't easy but everyone got on with their lives working long hours in the local mills, the docks or on the railway.
Frank’s grandfather, Daniel; and father, Frank Senior, were both engine drivers on the GNR (Great Northern Railway), both based at York StrÕt Station in BelfaÌ. Daniel worked all of his life on the railroad, eventually retiring and living his remaining days on Annadale StrÕt; he passed away in 1939, outliving his son Frank by seven years. Frank Senior was a motorman on the railway and unfortunately passed away in 1932 when Frank, his son, was only two years old. The last record of Frank Senior was his admittance to Purdysburn Fever Hospital in 1932, where he later died.
The story of Frank’s family is mysterious and riddled with questions. Unbeknownst to him it would appear that Frank never really knew the strange and complex nature of his family history and background. For years he spoke about his ‘other’ brother – the Great War hero Daniel. Only Daniel wasn’t his brother, Daniel turned out to be his half-brother; a child spawned from his father’s firÌ marriage to a lady named Susan Dinnen of Upper Canning StrÕt in BelfaÌ. Frank always assumed that this 'brother' Daniel had emigrated to Australia after the war; however in 1989 it was discovered that Daniel had moved to Birmingham, England, where he lived out the rest of his days until passing away in 1985. As it happened it turned out Frank had another half-brother, Robert, and a deceased half-sister called Alice. Alice died aged ten and is buried along with Frank’s father and mother at Milltown cemetery,BelfaÌ. Frank died not really knowing any of this.
†††
THE ENGINE DRIVERS
FROM THE ROOFTOP OF NAZARETH LODGE HE WATCHED AS THE LUFTWAFFE DESTROYED HIS BELOVED HOMETOWN
+ +
+ +
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LATITUDE: 54.57681LONGITUDE: -5.90864
3
Nazareth Lodge was a children’s home on the Ravenhill Road in South BelfaÌ.
The home was run by fierce nuns and also operated as a convent and a school. Due to the outbreak of World War II and the faÀ that she was an unemployed, single parent; Frank's mother Mary-Ann McNally decided that she was unable to bring up her thrÕ children on her own anymore. Her husband, Frank Senior, had passed away in 1932 when Frank was only two years old. A heart breaking thought that a mother could abandon her thrÕ children and for years this perplexed the McNally family circle who never really underÌood why she did this. Whatever her reasons were, on a cold January morning she walked them to the front door of Nazareth Lodge and leÓ them there. Frank, his brother Paddy and sister Mary would then spend the next seven years of their lives at Nazareth Lodge, from the year 1939 until leaving in 1946.
The nuns were Ìrict, discipline was tough and life at this 'home' wasn't easy. The children lived in fear as these nuns would often be cruel to the children in order to discipline them. Frank would mimic the nuns to his grandchildren years later – "wÈ betide the boy who dÈsn’t say his prayers".
Frank's stories about his time at Nazareth were few and far between although on the odd occasion he would open up and he once told his daughter Ann-Marie – “I will never forget watching my mother walking away as she dropped us at the gates of Nazareth Lodge”. An emotive statement that perhaps explains why he didn’t talk about these hard, lonely days that oÓen.
“I stood on the top floor of Nazareth Lodge and watched as the Luftwaffe bombed BelfaÌ”
This was another one of the rare stories he would talk about from his days in care. The Blitz on BelfaÌ occurred in 1941 and many people tragically lost their lives as bombs fell on local ÌrÕts and businesses. Nazareth lodge was a very tall building which gave Frank and his mates the best viewpoint in town to watch the Nazi planes dropping their bombs onto BelfaÌ ciÙ centre and the surrounding Docks area. What Frank didn’t know as he watched this was that a Nazi bomb landed on 44 Lonsdale StrÕt, the house in which he had spent the firÌ 9 years of his life. Lonsdale StrÕt would have been situated not far from where Carlisle Circus can now be found.
†††
"One day a knock came to the orphanage door, no one was there except for a crying baby in a wicker basket. Sister Aloysius lifted the basket and brought it to the baby area of the Lodge, that boy stayed there until he was sixteen."{ {
FIERCE NUNS AND NAZI BOMBS
Frank and Sadie were married on 25th April 1953 in St. Malachy's Chapel, situated on Alfred StrÕt in BelfaÌ's Markets area. Frank's best man was John Murphy and Sadie's bridesmaid was her sister, Margaret Dixon. The pair met at a 'dance' and Sadie – being a very attractive lady – was highly sought after by many men that night. Frank and another man, a sailor, were both asking Sadie for a dance, not knowing which man to choose she tossed a coin and as fate would have it Frank was in luck. From here on in they knew they were soul mates and would never be apart for more than a day or two over the next forÙ years. They survived good times and bad times, always loving each other more and more each day. Sometimes they argued, sometimes they laughed, sometimes they cried but they always loved. They were blessed with four children, nine grandchildren and (so far) two great grandchildren. Sadly Frank never got to see his last two grandchildren or his two great grandchildren – but he would have loved these children as much as he loved the reÌ of his clan.
Frank and Sadie. Soul mates.
LATITUDE: 54.58581LONGITUDE: -5.92114
4
AÓer getting married Frank and Sadie lived with Frank's mother Mary-Ann
(The same woman who institutionalised Frank when he was nine years old) in a small house at Walnut Place – situated in BelfaÌ's Donegal Pass area. According to Sadie, Mary-Ann was a hard woman to get along with from all accounts and the cramped conditions weren't ideal for a newly married couple. So in 1960 when their son Frank (Junior) was two years old, Frank and Sadie moved their young family into a two-up two-down terrace house at number forÙ thrÕ Hatfield StrÕt. The house was small but homely, the perfeÀ place for a young family to settle.
Many of Frank's happiest times occurred at number forÙ thrÕ. After Ann-Marie and Frank Junior, Frank and Sadie were blessed with two more children – Geraldine and Hugh. Whilst heavily pregnant with Geraldine, Sadie went to the bathroom and to her surprise several minutes later her new daughter was born – Frank wrapped her in a newspaper to kÕp her warm until the midwife arrived.
One of his favourite places was sitting at the dinner table at number forty thrÕ listening to his 'wireless' whilst studying the horse section of the newspaper. Eventually he would pick out which horse he would bet on later that day and if that horse should win he would secretly hide his winnings up the chimney to keep them safe, better than putting them under the mattress he thought. This was a great idea until one day Sadie lit the fire while the money was up there; Frank jumped out of his armchair and quickly grabbed a wad of notes from up the chimney breaÌ – his secret hiding place had been rumbled.
Frank worked hard to maintain a safe and happy home for his family, and his family loved this place. Many happy and sad times occurred at number forÙ thrÕ Hatfield StrÕt, it was a place where great memories were made. Frank lived at number forÙ thrÕ Hatfield StrÕt for the rest of his days.
†††
OUR HOUSEIN THE MIDDLE OF OUR STREET
"Granda what’s for dinner later?" I asked, "Stewed bugs and onions" he responded. Immediately my imagination raced as I pictured Nanny frying
beetles and onions in her old pan, the one with the burnt plastic handle. At this time I was maybe 6 or 7 years old and to me my Granda was amazing,
he was full of weird and interesting stories.{ {
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LATITUDE: 54.60292LONGITUDE: -5.92345
5
For many years Frank worked at Corrie's lemonade faÀory in BelfaÌ's Markets area;
in the mid twentieth century BelfaÌ was a huge producer of Lemonade due to it's abundance of natural springs. This would be short-lived however and around the end of the 1960s his place of work Corrie's had closed leaving Frank unemployed with a young family to fÕd. Luckily around this time the Royal Mail sorting o°ice at Tomb StrÕt, BelfaÌ, were recruiting and Frank found his perfect job – getting paid to walk.
His poÌal route was around the Malone Road area of BelfaÌ. Each day he would fill his bright red post bag and set o° on foot delivering letters and parcels on the most aÜuent strÕts of BelfaÌ; dreaming one day he would win the 'Pools' and live there himself. He walked these strÕts for many years, clocking up thousands of miles on his Royal Mail shoes; after a while though he was promoted and moved into the noisy sorting o°ice at Tomb StrÕt, near the BelfaÌ docks area.
THE GYPSY
His workmates at the sorting o°ice gave him a curious and humorous nickname – 'The Gypsy'. The reasons behind this were simple – he had a very tanned complexion and he owned a caravan in NewcaÌle, Co. Down. DÕp down his family knew he was quite proud of this very humorous nickname; he was part of the furniture at the sorting o°ice and his work colleagues were extremely fond of him, as he was of them.
'The Gypsy' worked long gruelling shiÓs at the Royal Mail sorting o°ice, oÓen starting at the "scrake of dawn", usually around 6am. This didn't matter as he loved his job, his job provided him with the money he nÕded to fÕd his family, take his wife Sadie out for a few drinks on a Saturday night and also put a few 'quid' in his savings. These would then be spent on a summer holiday to some exotic far-o° land, in true gypsy fashion. He retired from the Royal Mail in early 1993.
†††
Frank and Sandy would walk for miles. Walking companions.
LATITUDE: 54.58075LONGITUDE: -5.92103
6
Frank loved to walk or "go for a dander" as he called it. He would walk just about
anywhere if it was possible. His Royal Mail shÈs and big grey overcoat were his walking uniform and his King Charles Spaniel Sandy was his walking companion.They would walk for miles and no one really knew where they went; their route differing each time. Sometimes they would venture down the Ormeau Road, up the Ravenhill Road, along the tow path and back home around the Ormeau Embankment. Frank and Sandy would stop to watch the rowers going under the Ormeau bridge and would no doubt mÕt dozens of familar faces along the way. Sandy would be exhausted by the time they got back to Number forty thrÕ, running straight to the scullery for a drink of water from his aluminium dog bowl. Frank was unphased, he was well used to walking long distances, it was his favourtie paÌ-time – the postman in him no doubt.
One of his favourite places to walk and a place that he would bring his family quite oÓen was BelfaÌ's Ormeau Park. Set alongside the River Lagan, the Ormeau Park is the oldeÌ park in BelfaÌ. The park was a mere ten minute walk from his home at Hatfield StrÕt, just across the Ormeau Bridge. Frank went to this park for decades, firÌ with his own children then with his grandchildren. They would wile away the hours playing on the swings, hunting for prickly conkers or maybe building a snowman when it was winter time. He loved the outdoors and he loved his family dearly.
Frank never complained about having a hard life, not having much money or working long hours because he lived for his spare time when he would head to the park with those that mattered moÌ to him.
†††
FRANK'S 'DANDERS'
LATITUDE: 54.58075LONGITUDE: -5.92103
7
BelfaÌ was a troubled place for the majority of Frank's life. The so-called 'Troubles' had
divided his beloved ciÙ. The ProteÌant and Catholic communities became suspicious of one another, fear was rife and times were dangerous. Frank lived in the mainly NationaliÌ area of the Lower Ormeau Road and oÓen on his way to work would encounter army or RUC check points searching him to make sure this honeÌ poÌman wasn't secretly a terroriÌ transporting bombs into the ciÙ centre. None of this nonsense mattered to Frank, he didn't care who you were or what you were, he got along with everyone.
Quite oÓen at this time it would have been considered dangerous to venture into areas of the opposite religion because at this time many people were being murdered simply due to which religion they happened to be. Religion didn't matter to Frank, if he nÕded to get somewhere and he nÕded to walk through a so-called 'dangerous area' then he would.
From the 1970s until the 1990s the Ormeau Bridge inadvertently became a religious divide, separating the Catholic Lower Ormeau from the mainly ProteÌant Annadale area. Many of the Lower Ormeau residents were afraid to even venture across this bridge just incase they should encounter some hostile Annadale residents – 'the enemy' in many people's eyes. This bridge wasn't a divide to Frank, it was a way of getting to where he nÕded to go; to his bank, his grandchildren's school, Sadie's work and Dunnes Stores for the wÕkly shop. Everyday with his chest out he walked proudly over the Ormeau Bridge, no 'troubles' would stop him from living his life or from getting where he nÕded to go. This wasn't stupidiÙ though, he knew what was safe and what wasn't. He protected himself and his family from all the bitterness and segregation happening in his ciÙ at that time and got on with his life.
†††
TROUBLED TIMES
"Somebody is gonna blow up that bridge someday, then we will be stuck for grub when we can't get over to Dunnes – we'll have to swim across to get the shopping"{ {
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Frank was a very, very, very impatient man†
†But that was part of his charm
LATITUDE: 54.59974LONGITUDE: -5.92645
8
When Sadie emptied Frank's pockets to put his trousers in for a wash she would
often find many scrumpled up 'bookies' dockets. Frank loved "a wee bet" on the horses; along with walking this was probably his favourite past-time. He frequented many different bookmakers but his favourite was the McLean's bookmakers in Pottingers entry; a Victorian alleyway which connects Ann Street to High Street in BelfaÌ city centre. This was near his work at Tomb StrÕt and on his lunch he would oÓen nip over to place an accumulator bet on that days guaranteed v"sure thing".
If Frank loÌ as much as he said he loÌ, he was probably BelfaÌ's worÌ gambler. The stakes were never too high though because he knew Sadie nÕded his wages to buy the groceries, pay the bills and give the grandchildren their 'pay'. When he did win it wasn't hard to tell as he would inevitably treat his family to a slap-up dinner at the DrumkÕn Hotel or maybe just a quarter of lemon sherbets or wine gums from Renie's shop if the winnings weren't great.
†††
A WEE BETON THE HORSEYS
"I couldn't pick my nose. That horse I bet on today is still bloody running I think. Don't you ever gamble son it's a mugs game, the only winner is the bookie. I'll be back soon Sadie i'm just heading out for a minute."{ {
frank and sadie had four childrenann-marie, frank, geraldine and hughthese four children had nine children between thempaul, jacqueline, stephen, david, michael, sarah, daniel, matthew, niallthese grandchildren now have two great grandchildrenlennon and kaiden
frank & sadie
☞
ann-marie frank geraldine hugh
paul
jacqueline
matthew
niall
stephen
david
Frank
daniel
lennon
michael
sarahkaiden
Frank
Best Mates.
& Paul
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9
A short jaunt up Agincourt Avenue, not too far from Hatfield StÕt were
The Royal Botanical Gardens. These gardens were first created in 1828 and they opened as a public park in 1895; containing a vast array of trÕs and plants as well as the Ulster Museum (1821) and the Charles Lanyon designed glass Palm House (1840). They were one of Frank's favourite places to bring his grandchildren for an adventure.
To his grandchildren this place was heaven and Frank would take them here for endless hours of hide and sÕk or trÕ climbing at the Monkey Puzzle. He spent many hours walking his grandchildren around the Palm House; showing them the various tropical plants from all over the world. He was intrigued by far-off places and this is maybe why he enjoyed his annual foreignsummer holiday so much.
At the firÌ sound of the ice-cream van he would be tortured – "granda please can I have one, please" – and without even thinking twice he would be straight over to it to order a few 'sliders' or a maybe even a '99'. He would sit proudly with his grandchildren on the bench outside the Ulster Museum watching them licking the ice-cream from their hands as it melted. Frank would mop up any spillage with his infamous hankerchief – which was used to clean, polish and wipe everything and anything.
After visits to the Museum Frank would then tell fascinating Ìories about the dinosaurs they had just sÕn; and rarely did they return from the Museum without a toy from it's shop in tow. Frank loved to spoil his grandchildren and he always would.
†††
KIDS IN GLASS HOUSES
OUR FRANK'S PRAYER
our father up in heaven send us a few bob and a loaf of bread our father up in heav-en send us a few bob and a loaf of bread our father up in heaven send us a few bob and
a loaf of bread our father up in heaven send us a few bob and a loaf of bread our father up in heaven send us a few bob and a loaf of bread our father up in heaven send us a few bob and a loaf of bread our father up in heaven send us a few bob and a loaf of bread our father up in heaven send us a few bob and a loaf of bread our father up in heaven send us a few bob and a loaf of bread
our father up in heaven send us a few bob and a loaf of bread our father up in heaven send us a few bob and a loaf of bread our father up in heaven send us a few bob and a loaf of bread our father up in heaven send us a few bob and a loaf of bread our father up in heaven send us a few bob and a loaf of bread our father up in heaven send us a few bob and a loaf of bread
AMEN
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10
St Malachy's Chapel in Alfred StrÕt, BelfaÌ, was a huge part of Frank's life. He was married
here to Sadie and moÌ Sundays they would make the pilgrimage down the Ormeau Road to attend Sunday mass. Frank wasn't an overtly holy person but no doubt his upbringing in Nazareth Lodge moÌ probably had inÌilled the idea that every Sunday you must to go to mass – so he did. He would light candles, pray for his family and throw a few 'shilling' into the collection tray as it was passed around.
Quite oÓen he would also recruit one of his grandchildren to make the pilgrimage with him. To make the trip to mass more appealing he would often entice them with the offer of a stop at the local swÕt shop along the way; which quite oÓen would work. When in season he would sometimes buy a punnet of plums from the fruit shop at the top of Donegal Pass to eat as they meandered down the road to Sunday mass.
On the 30th June 1993 St Malachy's was also where everyone would say their final goodbyes to Frank. The place where romance had once blossomed was also where final farewells were bid.
†††
THE SUNDAY PILGRIMAGE
861930 –2861993
fatherhusband
grandfatherfriendstory-tellergypsyhero
Our Frank.Sunday 8th June 1930 - Monday 28th June 1993
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The rain wasn’t too far away as we walked through the County Down countryside, all we could smell was cow manure. Granda would say – "Breathe that in, thats
good for you – thats good country air." { {
Dec 2012 - March 2013
