Maureen Ross
A native of Hilton, Maureen became involved in this project through her work as director of the Seaboard Memorial Hall. The many years of hard work she has poured into this organisation represent her love for this community, its people and its special sense of ‘place’.
Click on the images below to enlarge
1. Cherry blossoms
When we moved to Craiglea, 15 Back Street, Hilton it was early February 1989. There were a number of trees in both front and back garden, and I learnt that the back garden had been part of an orchard in Hilton many years ago. Then the month of May arrived and that was when the Cherry Blossom tree in the back garden just burst into colour and for a few weeks every year this tree is truly splendid. Then the gentle winds would start to blow the braches and the petals from the blossom would begin to fall like confetti, covering the grass below. I used to think what a wonderful setting for a bride to have her picture – alas both Olivia and Laura were the wrong months, but you never know perhaps one day there will be a May Day wedding in the family. I have no idea how long this tree has been in the back garden but I am sure that over the past years many eyes have gazed upon its beauty, especially in May.
2. An old pew from the ‘Tin Churchie’
The ‘Tin Churchie’ which was situated on the right-hand side of the road between Tullich and Fearn Farm. It was the Free Presbyterian Church and my husband’s family went to that church. A new church was built in Hilton in the early 1960’s with fixed pews and the old pews were given off to the members and adherents of the congregation. This was William’s fathers’ pew. It is a sun trap and a favoured place to sit and chat – I have such fond memories watching from the kitchen window son Willie and his dad sitting chatting away about all manner of things, mostly fishing and football. I now look out at Willie’s son William sit with his grandfather doing just the same. That pew has been sat on by four generations of William Ross.
3. Ashfield Road
I have 3 strong memories of the Ashfield Road. The first goes back before my time but it was a time which my father used to go to church as a young child and it made a strong impression on him. The Ashfield Road was the route taken on a Sabbath by those belonging to the Free Church from the villages. There would be 2 services each Sabbath morning, the first was the Gaelic service and as they left, they would meet the English speaking parishioners on their way up to the next service. Often if any of the Gaelic speaking folks had sweets left they would pass them discreetly to the young who were just about to go into the English service. Dad told me that the Ashfield road would be black with people, as that was the garb of the day, both men and women wearing black clothes and hats. Then the next memory which sticks vividly in my mind is when the farmer Mr Rutherford would open up the tattie field for the lachoo (not sure of the spelling). Once the farmer had lifted the potatoes in the field and moved onto another field he would turn over the ground once more with the digger and allow the villagers to glean the field for whatever was left. I remember my mother taking my 2 brothers and myself up to the lachoo, she would gather the potatoes, I rather think we played more than helped. Many families were doing the same and if Dad had access to the works lorry he would take everyone’s bags down into the village that evening, but often bags were being transported in barrows, prams and hurlies. The potatoes which Mum gathered would be put into a ‘Tattie Pit’ in the garden and used as and when needed. This happened every year and it was actually a very happy social time.
4. INS386
INS386 is the registration number of my husband William’s boat. Fishing runs through the veins and just like seed time and harvest for the farmer, for the fisherman it is a case of getting the boat and gear ready for another season’s lobster and crab fishing and the sea and tides will dictate for the next few months your social life even when you eat. I like this time of year, there is a business about it, but so much has changed with regards the fishing – now you need to be licenced to fish for lobster and crab and everything must be recorded. When I was young the local fishermen would have a couple of dozen creels in the water, maybe sell the odd lobster here and there, but it was mainly for family and friends. Now the lobster pots are put down in strings of a 100 or more. I often wonder where are all the lobsters coming from and whether this kind of fishing will be sustainable or not.
5. Skimming stones
Skimming stones on the water was a great pastime as a kid in Hilton. Dad was particularly good at skimming stones, he seemed to have the knack of throwing the stone just the right height off the water so that it danced several times skimming the water as it went further and further out into the sea. For sure there was a skill to the throwing but there was also a skill to choosing the right kind of flat stone from the beach. Hours of fun was had skimming stones.
6. The Porst, Hilton
When I took this picture it saddened me to see just how the Porst had changed. Rock armour piled high to protect the shoreline footpath and gardens of Shore Street and Lady Street. High tides were something which happened infrequently. Many years may pass without any damage but in my lifetime alone I have seen a number of storms coupled with high tides cause a lot of damage. I remember quite clearly when I lived at 2 Shore Street, I would have been about 8 or 9 years old. I woke up this morning to find that when I got to the bottom of the stairs the porch was a couple of inches deep in sea water. The storm had toppled the wall at the bottom of the garden and proceeded to come right up onto Shore Street and into the homes. As a child this was great fun, however my mother did not see it as being funny at all! Glad I now live on Back Street.
7. Playing on the shore below Hilton
As youngsters the shore and rocks were our playground and swimming was great fun. We could not wait to get out from school, throw the school bags in the door, grab our swimming costumes off the washing line as we headed down to the beach which was at the end of the garden more or less. The clump of rock furthest out in this picture is called the Elle Mhor (apologies if I have spelt this wrongly). I know it does not look a huge challenge but when you were young and had just learnt to swim crossing the little distance from the main rocks to the Elle Mhor was something, and your imagination made you believe you were on a special Island, well my imagination did anyway.
8. Hilton Burn
This is the ‘Burn’ at the end of Hilton, just before it reaches the sea. The burn was another playground. My friend Anne and I used to have a ‘housie’ slightly further up the burn. Hours would be spent making mud pies and pretending we were keeping house. Further up the burn you could get frog spawn and go looking for frogs as well as the burn having minnows which we would catch in jam jars. Inevitably you got wet, as you do when you play near water, but it was a safe place to play as children.
9. Lest We Forget
I was particularly glad to come across these poppies as they remind me of the sacrifice made by so many from these villages. Men and women from the forces and merchant navy. During a recent project on WW1 and WW2 I learnt of many stories of bravery. The Seaboard Memorial Hall itself would not be here today if it were not for such individuals – their legacy is something this community has benefited greatly from and that needs to be remembered – let us not forget.