09-02 Northern Ireland 1954

It was an act of both love and stupidity for Dad to send Ian to school in Northern Ireland. He was a head taller than the other students in his class and felt like a fool. He lasted six months. Before school started, we had a week together.
When we landed in Belfast after our tour of Europe, the family treated us royally. Here's a great shot of Ian with grandfather Bulloch as we began to tour around Northern Ireland.
We stopped at fishing villages along the Antrim Coast, which is one of the most beautiful coastal roads in the world.
We visited Devon Paint and Wallpaper shops throughout the North with McGregor Devon, which was the last element of great-grandfather Devon's empire and which in its hay day was a manufacturer of paints, lubricants, calcium softeners, and industrial chemicals. In the picture, you can see Scotland in the distance.
McGregor Devon was the oldest son of the oldest son of great-grandfather George Devon. McGregor Devon was also a close friend of our father and visited Canada several times during my childhood. He and his sister died in their mid-60s of complications from varicose veins, which also happened to be Dad's curse.
I have always loved the thatched cottages of Ireland and have a great photo from our trip. All of these cottages are under the protection of the government who lease them to people who will paint and rethatch them on a scheduled basis. Those thatched cottages draw the tourist traffic.
No visitor to Northern Ireland can avoid seeing the famous Giant's Causeway. I have viewed it at least four times. But it is a place of magic. In the picture I am seated on the "King's Throne".
The scenery is wonderful. In the photo with me overlooking the Coast, you get a sense of what I am talking about. I asked my father one time why he left such a beautiful place and he said, “You can’t eat the scenery.”
I headed back to Canada via the same ship we came over on–the Yohan Van Oldenbarnveldt, which years later was sold to a Greek shipping company and eventually sank in the Mediterranean. It is now where it belongs.
Grandfather Bulloch, who was over 80 at the time, tried to discipline Ian, but Ian just stayed at a friend’s house whenever he threatened to lock the doors at 10:30 PM. Ian said he had a ball in Ireland and made most of his new friends at the pubs and not at school.
It wasn't that Ian was not smart. He was super smart. None of us could beat him in any kind of game. But he was born with Attention Deficit Disorder, a form of autism that ran in the Bulloch family. He studied only what he was interested in. But when he dug into something of interest, he became an expert. Ian is much loved and forever remembered.