In April 1954, Jean and decided it was time to go see the priest in order to get married. We had a little room and kitchen all decorated and furnished, sitting like a little palace just waiting for us to move in.

Now the priest in St Matthew's, namely Father Quinn ,was one of the old type Irish priests. In other words HE WAS A HOLY TERROR!!

When we asked him to marry us he refused us, telling us we must go for an interview with him so he could discuss it with us. We had never heard of this before, but as the Parish was a new one we knew we had to go along with it.

It turned out to be more than just an interview: IT WAS MORE LIKE AN INQUISITION!!

He roared at Jean shouting in her face: "And just why do you want to get married young girl?"

Jean then made the mistake of saying "I don't know Father."

WELL! That set him off! "You must know girl, it is not just to satisfy carnal desires."

Jean could have crawled into the nearest hole and let the ground swallow her up.

Again he roared at her "It is to have as many children as possible and bring them up as good Catholics."

Jean's face was bright red by this time, but he never let up on her. She was ready to run away. Then, when he had her in tears, he turned to me and roared: "Do you know why you are getting married, young man?"

But by this time I had learned my lesson. "Of course Father. It is to have as many children as possible and bring them up as good Catholics."

Jean was all for going somewhere else to get married. But the priest had our banns in order to read them out.So we couldn't very well ask for them back. In the end he agreed to marry us on the 22 May 1954.

We dreaded our wedding day in case Father Quinn might make a Gospel out of our vows. BUT!! By a strange twist of fate, Father Quinn dropped dead just three days before our wedding.

On the day, it was a stand-in priest name Father Euan Docherty (who was a very young man indeed) who took our wedding ceremony.

Before it began, he came up to me very nervously and said: "I hope you don't mind my nerves. You see Thomas, this is my first wedding."

I replied: "Don't worry Father, it is mine as well." He must have made a good job of it, for we were married for forty-nine years, seven months and eight days until Jean's sudden death on 30 December 2003.

So it really was "until death do us part."


As for lots of children? We had a boy and a girl born seven and a half years apart.

Tommy





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Sounds like a Father Wilkinson who shouted and swore at my sister in the confessional box as she had missed mass the week before!

Holy Terrors right enough !

wow. big tommy's story brought back memories for me when I young guy. I met a lovely lass from ruchazie and we wanted to get married but she was a catholic. To cut a long story short an appointment was made with her parish priest. Well what an experience. This elderly priest tore into me with such venom that even now 50 years later i still tremble at the thought, aye and he gave her short thrift for even considering marrying a protestant boy. We were almost thrown out of the chapel house. Needless to say our relationship soon foundered and we went our separate ways. Poor lass i hope she met some nice catholic boy and settled down

Lovely stories.

Wonder if it was Father Cush who years later was sued by the Bishop of Glasgow for pocketing some money left in his name to the Catholic Church by one of his parishioners

I had exactly the opposite when I married my wee protestant. Our parish priest was great, even got us a dispensation so that Allan would not have to promise to bring the children up Catholic (big thing back in 1969). We could get married in the vestry not in the main church. Allan's family would have none of it so it was Martha Street for us! Sad isn't it thinking back?

Hi Dave. believe it or not but that name rings a bell its certainly making my wee fingers tremble as i type Cheers

When my mother and father married my father, nominally a protestant but having no baptism or religion, my mother was a catholic. He was still in naval uniform and as the war had just ended and as my mother who had been in the Royal Artillery and would still have been listed in reserve, were granted "wartime dispensation" to marry in the Catholic church with no impediments.

My father's sister however married a Catholic who was in a reserved industry and the priest would not give them permission to get married. So off they went to the 'meenister" who had no problems in that regard. As my mother kept telling everyone whenever the family was mentioned that was seven children lost to the Catholic church in Scotland through the stupidity of a priestly bigot, though she would never have dared to call a priest a bigot..