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Henry “Harry” Michael Rochford (son of Joseph (2) Rochford) Click here to view a detailed list of Harry and Ida’s descendants. |
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Henry “Harry” (3) Michael Rochford, born on 20th March 1905 in Leicester, England was the youngest son of Joseph (2) and Ann O’Grady. He immigrated with his family to Montreal in 1912. The trip across the ocean was a vivid memory for him - the entire family except himself suffered sea sickness so he was able to run around the ship as he pleased without supervision – this he found very enjoyable. The death of his mother Ann O’Grady in 1916 when he was 11 years old was devastating to him. He hated school (seems to be a Rochford trait) and played hooky for a year before getting caught by his oldest brother James who told him to get out and work if he didn’t want to attend school. After a few years he realized that without a trade he didn’t have a future so he attended night school and apprenticed himself, first as an upholster then into the drapery trade. He worked for the T. Eaton Company gaining experience then set up his own business. When WW2 was declared he received notice to report for duty - he closed his business and gave away most of his equipment. The draft board rejected him because of his age so he went to work for Canadian Transfer, reupholstering bus seats – a job he hated. After the war he reestablished his business. He was an excellent craftsman and took great pride in his work. He was quite sociable, a voracious reader, self educated and had an extensive vocabulary. He joined Rotary around 1955 and remained active in the Organization for over 30 years. At the age of 84 and still working, he was interviewed by Macleans magazine who published a short article on him. Harry married Ida Jorgensen in 1941 at the age of 37 and quickly produced 3 daughters, each 13 months apart. He liked to take us for walks after dinner (I think he realized that mother desperately needed a break). On one of these walks which included my cousins, he had us all sit down on a fallen log for a rest. Unfortunately, my cousin John sat on a wasp nest and got stung. My cousin never forgot this walk! Harry was an absolutely terrible driver. He managed to take a door off a Rolls Royce, hit a train and T-bone an RCMP officer’s car at the end of our street. When he was dating my mother he drove his car into a lake and sunk the car which he promptly sold. Ten years later when he was in the market for a used car, the salesman was expounding on the merits of the vehicle he was studying, which looked vaguely familiar to him. He ran his hand under the dash and pulled out his Saint Christopher medal which he had installed in the car that he had driven into the lake. Needless to say, he did not purchase this vehicle! A life dream of his was to see Ireland. At the age of 80 he traveled to Ireland for a 3 week vacation with my husband and me. He reveled in seeing Ireland and placed a desire in his will to have his ashes scattered in Ireland upon his death. At 81 he again traveled with us to Ireland but took sick with pneumonia. The B&B which we were staying at sent him to the local doctor who held unscheduled office appointments reminiscent of the 50’s here in Canada. He was still a good looking man and quite fit for his age. When it was his turn next, an old woman sitting beside him turned to him and said ”ye look quite fit to me, what would be your problem?” My father smiled and said he had a lung problem. The woman said “Well then, ye won’t be wastin’ the doctor’s time”. His work was his life! At 91 he succumbed to pneumonia. Karen (Rochford) Wilson - October 2009 |