Our
Family's Economy
My dad Tom Reekie and Jill.
The
Earlsferry and Elie Town Councilors as in the early 30's or
thereabouts.
Back
row from the left: councilors Oddy, Webster, Braid, Peter Rennie,
George Clark and town clerk, Alastair Cook,
Front
row left: my dad, Bailie Tom Reekie, Bailie David Greig,
Provost
Short, paradoxically he was a tall man and was also the
Elie school master, ex-provost Prescott
and last, Dr. Pentland-Smith.
who in 1926 assisted my mother in
bringing me into Earlsferry.
My
father, Tom Reekie, was an Earlsferry golf club maker and a teacher
of the game of golf. Dad was a
diligent, independent and a successful family and business man.
In 1880 Tom was born in
St Monans, the next village to the east and
went to school there until he was 15 years old. His father John and
his grandfather before him had both spent their entire working
years as North Sea fishermen and my father would also have
followed the same lifestyle had not an event happened that changed
him for ever. One day he went swimming in the sea by diving from the rocky
shoreline at nearby Newark Castle. Just as he decided to end his
swim and climb back up on to the rocks a large vessel passed by that
caused big waves that repeatedly dashed him against the barnacle
covered rocks. By the time the waves abated he was severely bleeding
and he had difficulty getting out of the water. As a result of this
episode he developed such a fear of the sea that he knew he could
never be a north sea fisherman like his father. In 1895 when Tom was
15 years old he walked to Earlsferry and signed on with the
Earlsferry golf club maker George Forrester to serve a 5 year
apprenticeship to become a golf club maker. Tom continued on to work
with George Forrester until he was called up to fight in France for
all of the years of World War I. After coming home from France, Tom
went back to work with George Forrester for one more year when he
and my mother Katie Ferguson married at which time in 1919 Tom decided to start his own golf club making business and
hang up his
own shingle, "Tom Reekie, Golf Club Maker." St. Monans
fishermen were all very frugal and saved their money and this is one
trait my dad continued on with. When my father and mother first got
married they lived in St. Monans where my sister Minnie was born.
Later Tom and Katie with their combined savings, which they had
in the form of gold sovereigns, bought the house in Earlsferry that's named
The Cross. In 1923 my brother John was born in The Cross, I was born
there in 1926
and lastly, Noel, my younger brother in 1929. At that time, across
the street from us lived a very good friend spinster lady who owned
three houses. She observed that with Noel's arrival we must be
getting cramped for space in The Cross. One day she said, I'm
thinking about emigrating to live out my life in New Zealand. She
made the offer, "If you sell The Cross I'll let you have
Viewforth which has more rooms and a larger garden for the same
price and when I leave I'll let you have Viewforth Cottage next door
for a very good price." We did that and moved across the road.
My dad's earning season was from May till the end of September and
most all of his income was in cash. The month of October was the month for
Tom and
my mother to play
and do whatever they wished. From November till May Tom built up his inventory of hand made
clubs that would all be sold during the months of the coming
summer. My dad was a scratch (no handicap) golfer and during the
months of summer he taught others how to play the game of golf. While Tom
was teaching, my brother John ran
the golf shop and also made clubs and did club
repairs. Later John entered the business full time and the
name became "Tom Reekie and Son, Golf Club Makers."
In my parents early years of being
together they never had a bank account. They were their own bank. All during his
earning season and at the end of his summer earning season Dad took
all of his new money which was in the form of pound notes and silver coins to the local
bank where he converted this money into gold sovereign coinage.
Under his and my mother's bed was kept a leather bag that held their
lifetime savings. Never once in their entire lives did my father or
mother ever borrow one penny from anyone. As a consequence they were
never indebted to anyone and were sound sleepers. They were strictly
cash buyers. If they had the money they bought what they wanted but
if they didn't they waited until they did. At the end of each summer
they had a ritual that they did. With all of the family gathered
around, my dad retrieved his below-the-bed bag and spread all of the
gold sovereigns on to the kitchen table. It then became my sister, Minnie,
my brothers John and Noel and my job to handle and count all of our
gold and compare the count to what it had been at this time last
year. It was then decided how much money would be used for the
family to live on for the following year and this amount of money
was set aside into a different bag for day to day use. As we handled and counted the
gold the feeling of family solidity and security was incredible.
Then in the early thirties disaster struck the family. It was
announced that Britain was going off the gold standard and gold
coinage would no longer be legal currency and everyone who had gold had
to turn it in to a bank in return for which a savings pass book
would be issued with a number written in ink that represented the
amount of money now on deposit with the bank. From that day on we lost our sense of well being and
security. Our home was paid for, we owed not one penny to anyone but
before, where we could handle our sparkling gold, feel it's weight and know
the security that it represented, all that we now had was a piece of paper with a number
written in ink. No matter what the amount of money on deposit at a
bank it took the same amount of ink to make a
number in the
thousands, the hundreds, the tens and the ones columns of the
pass book.
The
day that my dejected dad took our heavy bag of beautiful shining gold
sovereigns to the local bank and came home with his tiny paper savings pass book
in his pocket must have been our family's lowest day.
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