Thursday, September 11, 2008

George Hendry and the Forth Bridge

While at BYU Education Week last month, I attended a class on how to better use the internet as a research tool when doing family history work. I have been amazed at some of the things I have been able to access. This is a picture of the Forth Railroad Bridge connecting Edinburgh to North Scotland. It was built during the 1880's and the final gold rivet was put in place by Edward, Prince of Wales on March 4, 1890. At that time, it was the largest bridge of its kind in the world. It is still considered a marvel.

Some call this bridge the "blood red wonder of a golden age." It is thought that almost 100 men lost their life during its construction. A memorial to those men who lost their life was finally unveiled on July 3, 2007. My great great grandfather, George Hendry was one of those men. I can tell you details because I just found them on the internet. The following is all I knew until tonight.

Lucy Walker Hendry Ostler, my beloved great grandmother whom fostered my love of hollyhocks and temple work, writes in her history:

"I was born of Scotch parents the 20th of September 1884 at Govan, Lanark, Scotland. . .
Very little is known of my early childhood as I will have to write from just where I can remember. The first thing I can remember is one night after my father had returned from his work he sat me on the gate post and I asked him his name. He said it was George. I told him I liked that name and when I was big and got a baby boy, I was going to name it George, which I did.
(Note: My paternal grandfather)

Then after that I can remember going to meet him when he would come home from work and how he would play with us children. I well remember the night my father was killed. He was killed at the building of Forth Bridge. He was what they call a boiler maker in this country. He was up on some of the large structures from what Mr. William Price told me and it was just about quiting time and the large hoist was lowered just a few minutes too soon. It struck my father and beheaded him there before his fellow workmen. He said it was terrible. It brought every man to tears even to the Superintendent. Mr. Price, the day he told me this, he couldn't hardly tell me for crying. He said it was so terrible. He said my father and mother was the best friends he ever had."

And from another part from pages about her grandfather, Robert McGregor.

"We 4 older children was going to meet him as he came home from work as we often did. There was my sister, Margaret, she being the oldest of our family then my brother, David, then myself, I being at that time as near as I can figure was about 4 years old and my sister, Hazel was still younger than me. At that time the Forth Bridge was being built. That was where my father worked. In Scotland this was the largest bridge of its kind in the world for many years. We children was going to meet father but instead we meet two men coming from work and they told us that we had no father. He had been killed. But we still went on and met grandfather and he was crying so hard he could hardly walk. He carried my sister Hazel home to my mother and told her the sad news."

The first time I read this story, I thought that my heart would break. The above words were written in 1935, long before my birth. The missionaries taught Lucy's mother soon after this accident and she immigrated to the United States in April 1888 with her five young children on board the "Wisconsin" out of Liverpool with 69 other members of the Church. They passed through the customs house in New York and then transferred to a steamer for Norfolk, VA and then traveled by train to Ogden, Utah. The Mr. Price mentioned above was also a part of this group of Scottish saints. This was not the end of Lucy's hard times, but that is a story for another day.

A list of those who died was also found during my internet search. George Hendry died on June 2, 1887. He was 32 years old.

3 comments:

Susan said...

Wow, I've never heard that story. Fascinating. Sad, but really interesting. Thanks for the bit of family history.

Vagabond Mother said...

How cool to see the bridge! I had no idea it was such a huge bridge! Thanks for finding and filling in the gaps! I love that story of her asking her dad what his name was- that's so tender.

I will definitely have to visit that bridge in my lifetime.

Thanks Mom.

Cire said...

that was sad . . . especially since I'm 32 - but I guess that is what histories are for, to help one reflect and learn

thanks