William Callaway (Billy) Pearce

Jack Serjeant wrote in 1999:

"Uncle Billy's wife was Annie - they had two children, Madeline and Grant. Each had one child. Madeline was married to Donald Stagg -
their daughter is Barbara. Grant and his wife Valerie had one son, Douglas.

On 4 Jan 2011 Doug wrote: There are English birth records for the two boys. The E&W, FreeBMD Birth Index has William Callaway (1883) and James Cecil (1885), both registered in Chorlton, Lanc.

And on 17 March by email:
"William lived with his parents in Toronto, working as a (grocery?) clerk in 1901 and in the registry office in 1911. In 1920, he, Annie, and the children were in Buffalo, where he was a chemist (sic), working in a factory. I assume that it was in the late 1920s that glaucoma kept him at home, now in Toronto, and son Grant quit school to help support the family. He spent his later years, after Nana died, in the Canadian National Institute for the Blind building on Bayview Avenue, once being scolded for falling on the front steps of that institution after a pub crawl with a blind friend. I remember because the CNIB called Dad about it.




Maybe he was named after Henry Edward’s older brother, who died in 1878. Often called Billy. I knew him as Pop Pearce. He could see large shapes, but was otherwise effectively blind. His use of a knife and fork provided dinnertime amusement for a young boy. To be fair, he did well, excluding peas. As I remember, his sole activity was listening to the radio, especially sports, about which he seemed to know everything. He did not move much, although there were some trophies for blind bowlers around that indicated to me that he had once been more active. He was a taciturn man, favouring sarcasm when he did speak.




They had two children:

Madeline (1914)
She married Donald Stagg and had a daughter, Ann. Mom’s notes say that Madeline died of asthma 29 May 40. Nana took care of Ann until she was adopted by Ken and Peggy Reid in September of that year. They moved to Vancouver shortly after. Mom said that Ann became Barbara Ann and that Ken and Peggy might have parted ways.

William Grant (1916)
He married my mother.
Jeannette Bernice Molesworth (1916-2002) and William Grant Pearce (1916-1984) Married 1935"

Douglas Grant Pearce wrote 20 November 2010 about his grandparents:
"William lived with his parents in Toronto, working as a (grocery?) clerk in 1901 and in the registry office in 1911. He and Annie were married in 1913. In 1920, he, Annie, and the children were in Buffalo, where he was a chemist (sic), working in a factory. I assume that it was in the late 1920s that glaucoma kept him at home, now in Toronto, and son Grant quit school to help support the family.
He was probably named after Henry Edward’s older brother, who died in 1878.

I knew him as Pop Pearce. He could see large shapes, but was otherwise effectively blind. He insisted on using a knife and fork in the traditional English manner, providing dinnertime amusement for a small boy. As I remember, his sole activity was listening to the radio, especially sports, about which he seemed to know everything. He did not move much, although there were some trophies for blind bowlers around that indicated to me that he had once been more active. He was a taciturn man, favouring sarcasm when he did speak.

He spent his later years, after Nana died, in the Canadian Institute for the Blind building on Bayview Avenue, once being scolded for falling on the front steps of that institution after a pub crawl with a blind friend.

Nana was a domestic servant in Toronto in 1911, newly arrived from Edinburgh. She was a gentle, long-suffering woman who never lost the sound of Edinburgh. Never lost her temper either. Maybe once. When I was visiting them in one of the many two-roomers they lived in, mainly in the east end of Toronto, Pop, from his comfortable chair by the radio, cast a caustic personal remark into our conversation. Nana, from her station in front of the pot roast on the stove, reached over and grabbed a chair cushion and threw it at him backhand. He didn’t see it coming, of course. Nailed him right on the head and sent his pipe and its smouldering contents to the floor. She did not seem contrite. Pot roasts like that one might well have contributed to her early senility."