I am the lad on the right – the other is my cousin Ian Brittain Kerr, son of Tillie (Mary) Reid Kerr who was the wife of John Kerr who abandoned his family when Ian was a baby. Why? No one is alive who knows, but my father had his theories: Tillie made such demands on him that he had to get extra cash and got caught with his hand in the till of the company – which in turn made him leave for parts unknown.
But, to the subjects of this snapshot – why am I wearing three layers of clothing, while Ian had only one? Is it because my mother was overprotective of me? Or perhaps, I am supposed to be dressed up when I go to see my Grandmother at 6 Kelvin St., Largs. Come to think of it, when Ian came to visit he usually wore his kilt!
I can hear Aunt Tillie urging me to put my arm around Ian so that people can see we are real pals! Incidentally, Ian and Aunt Tillie lived with Grandma Elizabeth Bell Reid. I don't seem to be in a posing mood, but I do have a correct "hankie" in my suit coat pocket. Ian on the other hand is in gear, fit for a scramble up to the Roman fort in the heights above Largs or ready to play vikings and pirates in the Goggle Burn.
He was born on the 23d of December 1933 and took some pleasure in having the same birthday as Joseph Smith. He was an introvert, shy and easily embarrassed by his cousin's extrovertish ways. He was also very smart, interested in bagpipes, took lots of photographs, liked history – indeed we were really very good pals with similar interests.
It was a sad, sad day for me when he died of a brain tumour in 1987.
