Lived in Mourne Park from 1943 when he was born in the Corner Room of the Main House until his death in 1992.
Dad loved Mourne Park as his home. Having been so much a part of the place as a child, it was where he chose to remain, and to bring up his family.
Dad felt the call of the sea. Captain of many ships and latterly a shipping agent based in Warrepoint Harbour, it was whilst delivering cargo to the Isle of Man that Dad met Mum.
Nicholas Needham Fergus Philip Gore Anley known as “Nick” or “Skip”
Our Father
Born 1943
Died 1992
Notable Moment
Mum had a much loved dog called Viking in the mid 1960s when she met Dad. On one occasion Viking fell between her boat, a trimaran called Metis, and the harbour wall. Without hesitation, Dad jumped straight in to the narrow gap of water to rescue Viking.
Bonnie is my sister
Marion is my sister
that would be me
There are many stories of Dad as a boy in Mourne Park.
One of his earliest memories was of being hastily brought down the stairs during a fire in the house, Mum describes it thus:
“One of the officers had such a huge fire in his bedroom (in the Rosy passage) -no doubt he felt the cold of an Irish winter keenly- that he set fire to the building. Nicholas remembered being carried down the front stairs in his cot through the smoke. The Americans rewired the house. “
I love the detail that the American’s rewired the house, almost in atonement for having caused the fire. It is even possible that very wiring led to another fire, although I can remember endless rows of Bakelite trip switches in heavy wooden boxes all over the house that spent the next half century pinging off, were there the slightest twitch in electrical current!
Dad did not get to see much of his parents at all. Eleanor traveled and lived in London whilst Philip remarried, becoming the land agent for Longleat.
Dad’s grandparents K and Norah brought him up along with the Wilson family who had been so important to Eleanor, and would also come to be so important to me.
There is a very tall tree in the garden that Dad climed as a boy.
The story goes that when, after much calling and beseeching from down below, Dad would not come down from the near top where he was sitting, the fire brigade were summoned.
When at last the brave fireman reached the branch that Dad was perched on using, one imagines, a considerably extended ladder, Dad declared that he had “been enjoying the view”.
On another occasion the nanny heard vigorous water splashing coming from the bathroom only to find, when she opened the door that Dad was sat on a chair reading a book whilst stirring the water with his hand!
