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June 29 – Cousin Gresham

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Today, we visited Douglas and Merrie Gresham. Following Douglas’ directions, we drove from Dublin through Carlow and turned onto a lane through the woods. Douglas is a Christian missionary of individual design. Thirteen years ago, he says the Holy Spirit led Merrie and him to this spot to buy a mansion where he would minister to those in need of spiritual counseling.

 

 

 

 

We pulled up to an iron fence and pushed the intercom. Douglas answered and buzzed us in. The gates swung in and we motored up the drive winding through the trees to the mansion on the hill. Standing in the doorway in his dark tee, dungarees and mukluks, Douglas, with his full gray beard, looked every bit the country squire.

Douglas warmly greeted us and led us to his office passing by stacks of boxes. Douglas and Merrie are moving to Malta and the house was in the throws of the move.

Merrie is a slim woman with her light gray hair done up in a neat bum. She retains, in her later life, the light soft features of the girl we have seen in photos. Merrie later told us how Douglas courted her when they first met as youths in Tasmania. She described Douglas as a boy so young he could hardly grow a beard. That boy was younger than she and she tried to ignore him, but he pursued her for three straight years before she yielded. She said she never had anyone make her feel so valued and who loved her.

Douglas’ office is cluttered and, I suspect, not entirely due to the move. The first object to which he pointed was a painting of his father Bill. Bill Gresham and Joy parted when Douglas was eight, Joy taking Douglas and his brother David to England in 1953. Yet, his father Bill left an indelible imprint on his son Douglas in more ways than his appearance. Ellen frequently speaks of the intensity of her father and Joy’s personalities. I see in Douglas that intensity tempered by charm that must come from Bill.

Bill then pointed to a large, framed photo on the wall of a young man in a pilot’s uniform who he said was his son James. We soon met James and his wife along with their two boys. James and his family are staying with Douglas and Merrie for a while. James is no longer flying and he and his family are in the process of moving to Australia.

Striking up a conversation with James, I found that he and his family had lived in my native North Carolina when he was flying. They lived there for many years raising their kids and home schooling them. They said they belonged to a church where many of the members did so.

We asked James why they left the US and he said he could not put his finger on it but there was something that just was not right with the States. Douglas was at the ready with an opinion however. He said that Americans were wasteful. They throw away large quantities of food for one thing. I joked that much of it was McDonald hamburgers that had grown cold. He laughed but he went on to frame the condition in moral terms using a couple of the seven deadly sins.

We held these conversations in their large kitchen, having moved from the office, as the family joined us. The kitchen contains two ovens and stoves and has the capacity to cook for many people, an indication of the large number of visitors to which they have ministered. Between the kitchen and office was a dining room with a simple, but large, dining table surrounded by perhaps twenty or so chairs. Douglas and Merrie could accommodate many people here. Douglas said that they have seventeen bedrooms.

“How do you tell people about this place?” we asked. “They find us,” Douglas said. He talked about the different counseling methods they used. No one other than the family is there now. They are closing the place down and moving. “Why?” we asked. Douglas answered by simply reminding us of his and Merrie’s ages. “We are in our sixties. “Why Malta?” Douglas said “Because it is hot and I have a boat there.” Once he had a sailing yacht but now he has a power boat in Malta.

While we talked in the kitchen, Merrie was assembling an apple and rhubarb pie, rolling the pie dough by hand. We realized that we passed quite some time talking about family and our recollections because we soon were served the apple pie Merrie baked.

After lunch, pie and more conversation, we had spent a good part of the afternoon and it came time to leave, but first, Douglas was pleased to show us his Jaguar car collection. James led the way to a car shed in which were housed three vintage Jags. There was a beige XKE, the dream of my youth, a red roadster of around a 40’s vintage, and a sleek XK station wagon of which only a few were ever made. One of James’ sons posed beside each car as I took pictures. Other cars were out on loan.

After taking a few pictures, Ellen and I were back in our car in the gray Irish mist driving back down the drive through the gates and on our way to Tramore on the Southeast coast. Leaving Douglas, we had accomplished the main inspiration for our trip and connected with a relative of Ellen’s, and a fascinating one at that. Douglas lives both in the shadow and the glory of a great man, from whose legacy he greatly benefits, while at the same time, making a mark of his own