Here is another in an occasional series of “RIP” graffiti to local people, this time in south Belfast’s Village neighbourhood: “RIP Grandpa – love from John”. Previously: Jamie and Kev | Caomhan, Punk, and Butt.
A “blue plaque” has been erected on the front of the Shankill Methodist church (on the Shankill at Berlin Street) to Saidie Patterson “trade unionist and peace activist”. In 1940 she led a seven-week strike to improve conditions and pay in Ewart’s linen mill on the Crumlin Road, where she had been working since age 14. As noted on the plaque, she was the first winner of the World Methodist Peace Prize (in 1977) – Allan McCullough has a photo of Patterson with her medal (the one in the middle). The plaque was unveiled on International Women’s Day 2018. (Irish News | Bel Tel | BBC-NI)
The Royal Air Forces Association’s ‘Wings Appeal’ has been raising money to support Air Force members and their families since 1951 (RAFA). This bed of flowers in the pattern of the Air Force’s red, white, and blue roundel (the reverse of the French roundel) is at the start of the Antiville Road in Larne.
Here are five more small boards from the Village. Above is a one to the memory of soldiers from the 36th (Ulster) Division lost in WWI; the remainder refer to the modern UVF, though all of them include poppies, suggesting that they are memorial in intent and so less menacing than yesterday’s hooded gunman in Welcome To The Village.
Small boards (the same size as the Poppy Trail individual commemorative boards, as in XXXVI) have been erected at most of the street corners along Broadway in the Village area of south Belfast. Many are UVF emblems but this one of a hooded gunman aiming at the viewer is a remarkable return to openly paramilitary imagery in the neighbourhood.
“Which way is your life going? Easy street? Hard slog? No where? Dead End? Call us & see if we can help guide you.” “God said to Philip, “Go near, and join yourself to this chariot.” Acts 8:29” The chariot in Philip’s case contained an Ethiopian eunuch, reading the book of Isaiah, which Philip explained and so converted him. The chariot in our case contains the number for Glory Road Ministries.
From yesterday’s Ordinary People, Extraordinary Roles, here are the three individual plaques to Trevor King, Frenchie Marchant, and Davy Hamilton, three UVF volunteers killed at or near the junction of Spier’s Place and the Shankill Road. The poetic verse (in the wide shot) is from Siegfried Sassoon’s Suicide In The Trenches.
“This plaque is dedicated to the memory of Lieutenant Colonel Trevor King, died 9th July 1994, Major William (Frenchie) Marchant, died 28th April 1987, Volunteer David Hamilton, Died 17th June 1994. These brave men died near this spot [the corner of Spier’s Place and Shankill Road, west Belfast] by the enemies of Ulster. No sacrifice is too great for one’s country. They paid the ultimate sacrifice. ‘They shall grow not old/as we that are left grow old/Age shall not weary them nor the years condemn/At the going down of the sun and in the morning/We will remember them.’” King and Hamilton (along with Colin Craig, an RUC informer and not included on the plaque) were shot by the INLA and died of their wounds three weeks and one day later. Frenchie Marchant (in the middle of the image above) was shot by the IRA outside The Eagle chip shop.
From Ripley’s Believe It Or Not, 1953: “The strangest victory in all history: Heremon [Érimón] O’Neill racing a rival chieftain for possession of Ireland became the first man to touch its soil by cutting off his own hand and hurling it ashore! His sacrifice made Heremon the first king of Ulster, 1015 B.C. The red hand of Ulster is still the provinces coat of arms thousands of years later.” Most people believe it not.
Here are five more images of the WWI memorial mural (featured yesterday) in Drumahoe Gardens, Larne, including a plaque to Walter Brownlee and his brothers Edward and Harry, all of whom survived the war.
“There are lonely homes in Ulster/Some “light of life” has shed/There are many names of loved ones/Among the list of dead.//They fell for God and honour;/Why are ye lonely when/They answered soon as they were asked/And fought and died like men!”