The complete Hetty Jane Owen story as recounted in this blog is now available as a single e-book (aka a pdf file).
You can access and download a compressed version of this file this by clicking on the link below. If you have any trouble with the download, I will happily send it through a file transfer service. The full text with images runs to over 340 pages, and the quality if printed is perfectly acceptable for most purposes. Please keep in mind that this is not a commercial publication, but a personal family history. I have tried to reference most of my notes, and note and credit sources as I have proceeded. My apologies for errors, omissions, and errors of fact and interpretation of which I am sure there are many.
Click here to download the complete Hetty Jane Owen story.
Monday 19 February 2018
Thursday 1 February 2018
Hibernation Time
This Blog will now go into hibernation for a short period, and resume in due course with research into the life and times of the Eldridge family.
As mentioned in previous entries, the Hetty-Jane Owen story is - or will shortly - be available as a full manuscript in one PDF file, and, frankly, that's a much easier way to browse through this story, than working through the entries in this blog. I am currently proof-reading the manuscript one last time, after which it will be freely available by request.
Just to clarify who the idiot author of all this nonsense is: I am a grandson of Hetty Jane Owen and her husband, Charles Albert Eldridge. Hetty died in 1953, eight years before I was born, so I never met her, or any of her Bradley, Owen, Robinson or Wombwell relatives. Maybe that's what intrigued me so much about their stories.
I have lived and worked in North Cyprus since 1994, and prior to that in Turkey, and continue to work as an educational management advisor, teacher-trainer, and English language specialist in one of the universities in North Cyprus, so I truly do classify as 'expatriate' - as the British call themselves when they move to other climes. It would never have occurred to me to call myself an immigrant, or migrant, or economic migrant, or refugee, or any such term that we like to use in Britain when the process operates in reverse. Interesting, but not a subject that will be explored further for now.
I should just say however that this background has been significant in developing certain perspectives and opinions, not to mention biases and prejudices that no doubt surface in the telling of the tale. For which, I do not offer any particular apology.
As mentioned in previous entries, the Hetty-Jane Owen story is - or will shortly - be available as a full manuscript in one PDF file, and, frankly, that's a much easier way to browse through this story, than working through the entries in this blog. I am currently proof-reading the manuscript one last time, after which it will be freely available by request.
Just to clarify who the idiot author of all this nonsense is: I am a grandson of Hetty Jane Owen and her husband, Charles Albert Eldridge. Hetty died in 1953, eight years before I was born, so I never met her, or any of her Bradley, Owen, Robinson or Wombwell relatives. Maybe that's what intrigued me so much about their stories.
I have lived and worked in North Cyprus since 1994, and prior to that in Turkey, and continue to work as an educational management advisor, teacher-trainer, and English language specialist in one of the universities in North Cyprus, so I truly do classify as 'expatriate' - as the British call themselves when they move to other climes. It would never have occurred to me to call myself an immigrant, or migrant, or economic migrant, or refugee, or any such term that we like to use in Britain when the process operates in reverse. Interesting, but not a subject that will be explored further for now.
I should just say however that this background has been significant in developing certain perspectives and opinions, not to mention biases and prejudices that no doubt surface in the telling of the tale. For which, I do not offer any particular apology.
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