Memories of My Dad

Hi there,

My daughter started this blog to learn more about her McGillivray ancestors.

I am going to try to add to this blog, starting with stories about my dad, Eshcol (ECK) McGillivray. Please keep in mind that I am 74 years old and trying to remember 60 to 70 years ago, so I may not always be completely correct in my stories, but they are my memories of my childhood with my dad.

My dad could be kind and gentle or he could fly off the handle without warning in what everyone always called, an ECK-fit. These consisted of yelling and ranting over nothing in particular that passed within minutes.  As children, we learned to ignore these outbursts as our dad's personality.  We knew nothing would come of them!  Now, I prefer to concentrate on the kind and gentle memories I have of my dad.

One vivid memory is from when I was very young, probably 5 or 6. Dad said if my sister Linda, who was 2 years older, and I would do the dinner dishes he would teach us to play the card game Rummy. 

I stood on an apple crate to wash the dishes while Linda dried and put them away.  True to his word, Dad sat us down at the kitchen table and taught us to play rummy.  We played all evening with Mom as a fourth and fell in love with the game.  From that day forward we were included in all the card games that were routinely played in the evenings while listening to the radio.  Card playing remained a family tradition throughout my entire life as a child and adult and is still my favorite way to pass the time.

Another memory was when I was 7 years old and my baby brother was born.  There were already 5 children in the family. I came home from school to find a new baby in the house and my mother in bed with my grandmother sitting bedside her.  My father stood back a ways listening to the conversation.

As a McGillivray, my grandmother wanted this new boy to be named after her late husband, Edward James and her son, Eshcol. My grandma insisted the baby be called Edward Eshcol.  My mother, a quiet southern woman of great strength replied, "The name will be Eshcol Edward.  After all, Eshcol is his father".

After several minutes of arguing, my dad announced to all, "I don't care what you name him, I'm calling him Joey"  and he walked out of the room, decision made! That is how my brother became Eshcol Edward McGillivray and was called Joey, and now Joe, his entire life. And how my dad solved problems!

This is just a couple small stories about my dad with many more to come.

 I would love to hear your stories of childhood and forward.

Shh, Mom doesn't know it but I found this
picture of her and her dad on her
Wedding day. Best picture I have of them!