Hannah interviews PJ Sloane in 1992

So your name's Patrick Sloane.

Patrick Joseph Sloane.

Patrick Joseph Sloane. And what's your mother called?

Mary. Okay. She was known as Mary close relatives.

Okay. And what was her surname, or was it— no, because your father's surname.

Yeah. Her name? Her surname before marriage was Sloan as well.

Sloan?

Yeah.

Was it the same kind of Sloan, you know?

The what?

Was it the same S-L-O-A-N-E?

I understand, yeah. Okay.

And what was her father called?

Her father?

Well, your father.

My father was called Patrick.

Patrick?

Yeah.

And he's called Sloan? Oh yes.

Patrick Sloan. Okay.

And then, um, Do you remember anything about your grandparents?

Yes, I remember my grandmother.

And do you remember her name?

Catherine.

And do you remember her surname?

No.

And your grandfather, was he called Sloane?

Yes, I think he was called Michael Sloane.

Okay.

And they are our children, and it was found suitable because the business my father was in was being packed in, and My mother came to— back home to Ormeath to have me, and my 2 sisters and 2 brothers were born in England.

Were they born before you?

I was the, I was the, uh, the 4th.

Okay, um, uh, at St.

Patrick's Ball in Liverpool in the Wavertree Town Hall. Yes, I was on holiday in Ireland, in a week, and I was staying with my Auntie Kate, my mother's— one of my mother's sisters. And not far from where her home was, there was some rough country. And I was out this day and there was a huge rock about as high as a house. I was coming along or climbing that, so I climbed it, got to the top, and when I looked down the bottom, there was a fox, a vixen, with 3 or 4 cubs who were playing outside. And the, the den was underneath this huge rock. Which I climbed from the other side. So actually, the, um, there wasn't any hunting there at all. The farmers, if they got a fox anywhere near the farm or near the chicken run, they'd go up with their gun and shoot it, which was considered very bad form. In parts of England where they hunt fox, they shoot it. It's not sporting. That was when my mother took up a post at a place in Inverness, a place called Whitebridge. And she was at the school she was teaching in, she was in charge, and it was one of these village schools where the scholars were all of various ages. And she had 5 children to look after of her own family. And she used to have a maid to help with looking after her children. And Doing general work in the house. But apparently this day, none of you dressed her, was in the kitchen, and in this lonely area, she looks out through the kitchen window. And then There's an uncouth tramp there, and he's trying to make his way through the window, testing the window to see if it's possible to get into the house that way. My mother apparently turned around and picked up the hatchet that was used for chopping the wood and shook it at him. And he took off. At that time, it was a common thing in the land, especially in the countryside, for tramps to be about. You don't see so many of them nowadays.

No.

But they used to walk, and I suppose they were able to make a living of some kind, an existence.