extraordinary lives
MUM was born into dire poverty in the slums of Liverpool to an alcoholic mother who abandoned her young family. Aged 11, Maggie took over the care of her seven-year-old brother Tommy and five-year-old sister Nellie when their father was at work. She always told everyone the story of how she was brought before the school assembly and thought she had done something wrong. Instead, she was praised for caring so well for her siblings and they were told to show everyone their clean clothes. During a short spell in care at Olive
Mount children’s home, she kept her siblings safe. Sadly, Tommy died aged 17 in the war. Mum was 18 when she married a soldier: he went to war and never returned. She struggled financially and emotionally throughout her marriage to her second husband, who liked the drink. But she always made sure her ten children — six daughters and four sons — were clean and well fed. Tragically, her second child, Mary, died at six months. Mum left Liverpool at the age of 60 to start a new life in London. She moved into a little council flat — her independence at last. After she applied for her first passport in her 60s, she went on
holiday to Portugal — it was the first of many trips abroad. She attended St Matthew’s parish church in West Norwood, South London, and made many friends at the Union of Catholic Mothers of which she was a member for 30 years. She made sure she travelled back to Liverpool every year to visit her sister Nellie. Mum was traditional: she never wore trousers, learned to drive or owned a washing machine. She spent her life in the kitchen: there was always a pan of scouse — the famous Liverpudlian stew — on the go or a roast dinner and she could magic a dinner out of scraps through years of scrimping and scraping. With 21 grandchildren, 31 great-grandchildren and nine great-greatgrandchildren, she was still babysitting into her 90s. I know a lot people say this about their mother, but she was the glue that held our large family together and was a true lady. When her health declined, she spent her last four years in her beloved Merseyside living with me. She passed away just seven weeks short of her 100th birthday, so instead of the big party we had planned, we gave her a fitting sending off. The funeral cortege started from the Liver Buildings with white horses and a white and glass carriage — only the best for our Mum. It travelled seven miles through the streets of Liverpool to her final resting place in Allerton Cemetery, where she was buried with her father. When a large white feather fell from one of the horse’s plumage, we felt it was a message from Mum to say she had reached Heaven.
MARGARET ‘Maggie’ Clarke, born June 28, 1920; died May 9, 2020, aged 99.