OBITUARY: George MacBeath
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Brora resident Nick Lindsay looks back on the life of George MacBeath, crofter, former school janitor and community stalwart
When George MacBeath died aged 87 on Tuesday, May 26, Brora, and the Doll in particular, lost one of its favourite sons ever. In fact, after his death, a friend of mine called George the ‘most popular man in Brora’. I cannot argue or pay a greater tribute than that.
I have known George for well over 20 years and was privileged to be able to call him my friend. I am not alone; he had so many friends, not just here in Doll and Brora, but throughout Scotland and, indeed, the world. Many people will have known George for much longer than I and many shorter, but I’ll wager, even if you only met him once, you would leave as his friend.
George was a big, warm, cuddly man, never happier than when working his beloved croft or in the company of people, especially children. George loved a good yarn and had a hatful of a repertoire, with which he constantly entertained old friends and new. He spent his last seven weeks in Raigmore Hospital and then the Cambusavie Unit at the Lawson Memorial Hospital in Golspie. I can safely say that he would have kept smiles on the faces of his nurses and doctors with his 'craic', which would have been especially welcome for the professionals during the added pressures they were under during this awful Covid-19 crisis.
George was born into a loving family at 5.30am on March 8, 1933, at Ramscaig, Doll. At this stage I should tell you that George always stated that it should be just ‘Doll’, not ‘the Doll’, but this is a hard habit to break for us non-Dollars. He was one of five children born on the Doll (as I say, it’s a hard habit to break!) that year; I suspect there are probably not five children born annually in the whole parish nowadays.
George’s parents were Donald ‘Donlie’ MacBeath and Barbara ‘Barrie’ Duff who, as George loved to tell, had a stormy courtship, with Donlie resorting to escaping to New Zealand to forget about his sweetheart after she gave him her engagement ring back one day in 1924. With his bag packed and on his way to the railway station in Brora, Donlie met a friend on Cunningham’s Brae and he innocently asked where Donlie was going. “Oh, I’m off to New Zealand to see what’s doing”, came the casual reply!"
Return home he did, still with the ring in his pocket and swept Barrie off her feet once again and they got married. George was the second-born child of five: older brother, the late Gordon, younger sister, the late Barina, and Neil and Wattie. At two months, George was transported on a cart to the new family home at Auld House, where he remained for the rest of his life, except for a short spell as a child when Donlie had a tied house with a job at Uppat.
George and his siblings had what he describes as a wonderful life growing up on Doll. Simple pleasures, wholesome food, hard work and laughs. Money was tight for everyone in those days. There had been a depression and a world war, but this never dampened any Doll spirits and George and his friends lived off a diet of Doll characters, who George always described as their ‘entertainment’.
The bairns were innocently mischievous, with Halloween being the night they all longed for. The bairns would plan devilish tricks, more elaborate with every advancing year, on neighbours all over the Doll. Some played along with the pranksters, but some never learned and swallowed the bait, year on year.
Old ladies’ bloomers used to fly high as flags, farm machinery was stealthily removed and placed elsewhere, sods of turf were placed over chimneys, croft gates were hidden high in trees, livestock was painted and even, one year, the Dornoch police car on patrol was barricaded in on the Doll , unable to escape. Once they had cleared one barrier, the long arms of the law found another in its place – front and behind! The pranksters, quietly giggling behind the roadside dykes, heard a whole range of vocabulary new to their ears that night!
Schoolwork was never George’s strong point, even though he had perfect attendance at the small Doll School, before he went on to Clyne Junior School in Victoria Road, Brora. There he mixed with new pupils and made lifelong friends with boys such as Tommy Knox, Harry Ross, Duncan ‘Dougal’ Sutherland and Thomas Matheson. He never did school homework, as he always said that his homework was on the family croft when he got home. He also quipped that he didn’t know his teachers awfully well, as he didn’t spend long enough in their company!
George left school on his 14th birthday, before the legal school-leaving age went up to 16 the following Monday. He had already secured a job on the Sutherland Estate, where Donlie was employed as a forester and young George was under his wing. He loved working on the estate; it was a great outdoor life and just an extension of his beloved crofting life. George later worked in the gardens at Dunrobin and became a valued and trusted employee of the estate.
Donlie died in 1964 and George’s siblings left home one by one. George married Dora Murray, of Stonehouse, Doll, in March 1968 and they set up home with his mam at Auld House, before she later moved into the Red Cross House in Brora. George and Dora loved their life at Auld House and they even opened a caravan site on the croft, where people relished their visits because of the magnificent sea views and, of course, the special MacBeath hospitality.
Sadly, Dora was diagnosed with cancer and gradually needed more and more care. Amongst 15 other applicants, George applied for and got a job as the late Don MacLeod’s replacement as janitor in the modern Brora High School in Johnstone Place in 1977. This job would allow him to spend more time caring for Dora. He joined a staff of 26, yes 26, at the school and worked under the head janitor, Ally Mackintosh. The irony was not lost on George that he landed a job at a place he loathed when he was growing up.
Having spent nearly 26 years with the estate as an outdoor worker, it was a bit of a shock to him to be working in a centrally heated school. He said he never actually got used to it, but he just got along with it. Not having children of his own, George loved being surrounded by them at school. Over the generations, he became friends with them all. The outpouring of grief on Facebook, from his former charges on the announcement of his death, bears absolute testimony to that.
Dora passed away aged 51 in 1996, and the routine of going to school in his dark times and seeing the bairns every day was the joy that kept him going. George and his siblings lost Barrie the following year. She had written a letter to them some 15 years earlier, only to be opened after her death. The letter told them all how much she loved them and addressed them all individually. She closed the letter with the following simple request: “Don’t mourn my passing. We had such a happy family time”.
George retired aged 65 in 1998. Apart from family bereavements, it was the saddest day of his life. The whole school assembled in the hall and presented him with cards, pictures and gifts from every class and staff. He had worked at the school for a carefully calculated 21 years, two months and seven hours, and enjoyed every single minute of it.
After retirement, George took odd jobs to fill time not spent on the croft. He worked on Capaldi’s ice-cream van (continuing his rapport with the bairns) and latterly for G&R Sutherland assisting at funerals, where his personality and strength was a real asset. However, in between, when he had a job of driving the late councillor RR MacDonald around, he found himself at a loose end one afternoon in Inverness, when the councillor was attending a meeting. He ended up outside a travel agent’s shop, marched in, sat down and said, “Right girls, I’ve never been off the croft in my life and never been near an airport. But will you get me to New Zealand and back?” You can just see him now! He’d always been captivated by the country from Donlie’s tales, so now he wanted to go off and see the New Zealand for himself. And, by the time he’d left the shop, his trip was booked and he said that it was the finest thing he ever did! He loved New Zealand and would return once more, saying that if he didn’t have his croft, he would have settled there for good.
When you delve into George’s apparently simple life, you will see that he had an incredibly rich life, with so many friends, so many experiences and so many happy times. In his spare time, he helped to run the Brora Youth Club, acted in drama performances with the Brora Amateur Dramatic Society, danced and sang as part of the Brora Entertainers and attended Scottish country dance rallies. He also helped out at school and community events, such as being Father Christmas and hauling generations of Brora bairns around the streets on a trailer, pulled by his favourite Massey Ferguson tractor at Carnival Weeks. He also used his to drive his tractor amongst many others on the annual Gars tractor runs around East Sutherland to raise money for Chest Heart & Stroke Scotland.
George took an active interest in our local heritage in later life and became a stalwart member of Clyne Heritage Society. He took part in all of the Society’s excavations at the Salt Pans, being just in his element with all of his fellow diggers as a brand-new audience! Whilst learning new archaeological techniques, he was never more at home than when he had his shovel in his giant hands.
I spent many a happy and fascinating hour with George, chatting, walking, yarning, laughing and listening – and recording his oral history. It was always my pleasure.
Well, you could write a book about George – and that is just what happened. He was thrilled to receive a copy of his life story in a properly printed book three weeks before he passed peacefully away at Cambusavie with his brother, Wattie by his side.
George loved his life and he loved people and I think I can safely say, without exception, they all loved him back. He touched so many lives, as witnessed by the hundreds of people who lined the lanes of Doll and the streets of Brora to pay their final respects as his cortege passed when it made its way to Clyne Cemetery on the bright, warm sunny day of June 1st. It was so fitting that his final emotional journey was in a coffin lying on the back of his own trailer pulled by his own tractor, driven by his nephew, Johnnie Little. There was not a dry eye to be seen.
RIP, George; a special man. There is an unfillable hole in Doll today. We do mourn your passing, because you gave us all such happy times.
