The mystery of my County Durham great grandad's box

I remember the day quite well. It was 2007, and I was visiting my grandparents at their bungalow in Houghton Le Spring. It was a warm day – the sun was poking through the blinds as they pulled away the large, mirrored door to their wardrobe and pulled out a very old, creepy-looking brown box.

“This is for you”, they said. “You have to take good care of it as it’s very special. It belonged to your great grandad.” I nodded, feeling the weight of this box of which I, quite frankly, was clueless to its contents. However, that mystery was soon shattered when I opened it to reveal a treasure trove of coins and other oddities.

My great grandfather Robert Patterson. (Image: KAYLEIGH FRASER) I was puzzled. At that point, all I knew was that my great-grandad was dead, never mind the fact he was buried in 1989 - a whole eleven years before I was born.

For the last fifteen years though, I’ve often unpacked the box and put it back together to admire the contents. The oldest object is a coin from 1797, and I have to say it is my proudest possession. Other coins have come from as far as New Zealand, the United Arab Emirates, the United States, and more.

Inside there’s also a coal board slip, a stamp, a signet ring, a pin saying ‘Carolina’, two pocket watches, and much more.

Trinkets inside the box. (Image: NORTHERN ECHO) But really, how on earth did my great grandad Robert Patterson, a man who had never been abroad in his life acquire all these coins from foreign lands? And what were all these trinkets, what did they mean to him?

Upon doing a little bit of digging, I only really know a few things about my great-grandad. He was a miner, an identical twin, the youngest of ten children born alongside his brother Stan in 1925.

He died in 1989 and had three children. The oldest of whom, is my grandma Linda Ellison (nee Patterson), age 73. Robert was married to my great-grandma Elizabeth until she ran away with another man (but that’s a tale for another day).

My great grandfather Robert Patterson. (Image: KAYLEIGH FRASER) The box itself was even a mystery to my grandma Linda who confessed to me she found it after he died.

“Oh goodness…” she recalled. “He died, we were in the house and were sorting out some old furniture which really brought back some memories. But then, inside a cupboard, there was this box.

“I kept it for a few years and then decided I’ll give it to Kayleigh, why not.”

Something I never realised is that my most precious coin, from 1797, was actually found by her on Brancepeth Terrace in Fence Houses in the mid-1960s whilst the council were “digging up” a site near her home.

Trinkets from the box. (Image: NORTHERN ECHO) However, she was devastated when her dad took it off her and she never saw it again – until she found the box.

She said: “My first thought was – that’s my coin. The coin he took off me when I was young. But the other coins were really a huge mystery to me.

“I was surprised, I really didn’t know what it all meant. I never even knew he had them.”

The last time my grandma saw her dad was back in the late 1970s, although she admitted their relationship was rather strained by then.

My great grandfather Robert Patterson with his eldest daughter, my grandma Linda. (Image: KAYLEIGH FRASER) When I asked what he was like, she didn’t paint the greatest of pictures.

She said: “He is the only man who could fetch a cigarette out his pocket lit and was always missing when it was his turn to buy a round.”

Well, be that as it may, I still own and will forever keep these coins, trinkets of this man I never met and will likely always wonder how he got them.

I’ve even added my own coins to the collection as time has gone on – there’s a hefty bag of 50ps in there now which I’ve put together over many years.

Trinkets from the box. (Image: NORTHERN ECHO)

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In a way, it’s almost like I’m adding to this mini-museum made by a man who is as much a stranger to me as he is family – his face stares blankly at me through old photographs yet that little box of treasures offers me but a small glimpse into his life and who he was as a person.

So, Robert, or grandad as I should call you, I think I’ll always keep your box of odd little trinkets and revel in its beauty, wondering what story each little object could tell me.

They will always be a mystery, as will you, but your box tells a small part of your life story and is now a very special part of mine.