It was a cold winter evening, the fog so thick it cast a wet heavy veil across the Taybridge Station. A small crowd gathered by the waiting room, heavy coats collared up against the night. They were there to send off Jack Mennie with luck and well wishes, and heartfelt promises that they would look out for ‘Kate and the bairns’ whilst Jack was away. Inside the waiting room, Jack sat with his brother Henry and two friends from the foundry. It was a Friday night, and Jack has spent the week organising himself for the trip. The previous Saturday he completed his final shift at the Foundry – wishing him well, his co workers presented him with a handsome cabin trunk and a case of collar studs, some of them envious, some of them shaking their heads with doubt, some of them sorry to see him go. A kind, generous and intelligent man, he had prospects in Dundee, but they were not enough. Jack wanted more for his family, and when the advertisement came in the newspapers for engineers to take up posts with a young American company in their Jute Mill in what was then Calcutta, (now Kolkata) Jack knew he could not give up this opportunity.
Kate had not come to the station, staying home with the boys. Besides, she said it was too much for her to see Jack off, away to a distant place for a 3 year term. Some challenged Kate, posing the questions around how would she manage? Why could Jack not be content with his life, after all so many others were content with their lot? Some felt Jack was being selfish leaving his young wife and young sons. How could a marriage survive a 3 year gap? And to such a strange place, where the intent and morals of the natives was questioned. But it was only for 3 years, just to give them a boost, and then, well, after that Jack would be home. Back to Dundee. Back from the unknown, to the known.
This was November 1928. Jack finally retired from India in May 1958. And therein lies a story of that life well lived.
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