But she was not broken, as many might be. Catherine won a scholarship to Hutchinson Grammar (or ‘Hutchie’ as it is called) a highly respected Glasgow school. She did a degree in Chemistry at Glasgow University and then a PhD in the same subject before going to work in Newcastle University (England). It was there that she met her husband, Nigel, a microbiologist. (Nigel predeceased Catherine on 18 December 2019 in his 90th year).
They married in 1968, moving to Belfast in 1969. Nigel had secured a visiting professorship at the University of Illinois so the young couple spent a year in Illinois, USA before Belfast – they moved first to Knock (east Belfast) and then to Carnreagh (outside Lisburn), where they would spend almost all of their happy lives together. Children arrived in the form of Jennifer (Jenny) and Alistair, and later a grandchild, Katy, whom they adored.
Catherine’s service held on 27 June 2025 was very moving but there was a lot of laughter too. We learned that she was a very bright ‘dark horse’: she and Nigel liked to ballroom dance, she also loved tapdancing, was a keen knitter and loved cooking and baking (no surprise, the Scots are famous for the latter)! And the congregation laughed to hear she liked to use the hard kitchen floor for practising her tapdancing steps. Who knew! We also learned that the family enjoyed holidaying in Connemara, Dunfanaghy and Sligo, and one episode was recounted (showing the doughty resolve of a canny Scotswoman) of Catherine cooking sausages on a small blue gas stove in the middle of a bog in the pouring rain while Nigel fished. He said they were the best sausages ever.
We are not certain when Catherine started working with the Foundation, but definitely by 1978, and she continued to give top drawer, superlative service to our clients until 2011, when declining health forced her to step back (though she remained in contact with staff to nearly the end of her life). As well as the prodigious output of reports for clients, which were as comprehensive and exacting in terms of delivering results as she could guarantee, she also was responsible for training many new researchers and guiding others with a steady, calm, knowing and friendly hand, including the author of this piece.
I still remember the first morning in the old Record Office search room at Balmoral Avenue, Belfast being introduced to (the pre-digital age’s starting point) the Householder’s index, a resource for which I still have great affection; then to Griffith’s Valuation – in its printed form. She was such a patient and generous teacher, and this rookie nearly blotted his copy book at the get-go. When Catherine said we would look in the parish of Loughgilly (Co. Armagh); he replied we pronounce it Loughguile (Co. Antrim) – Catherine retained her rich, round Scottish accent her whole life, and had already lived in Northern Ireland as long as this dunce – we were talking about two different places, and I had made the gaff. Catherine said nothing, but the withering sidewise glance I received bore into my soul.
But it was forgotten in a second and her warm and gentle spirit shone through and we developed a wonderful working relationship. She taught me, as she had so many, how to use the extensive range of sources, and to delight in the hunt, the chase, that tenacity to never give up when looking for a clue to an ancestor.
Catherine was sorely missed by the whole staff when she retired from genealogical research and our hearts ached when we learned she had passed away last year. She was such a bright spark and had such positive energy; her arrival in the office made everyone smile, as she did the rounds having a good gossip and natter with each member of the full-time team. At Catherine’s funeral, the minister, Rev. Dr. Sleith told a wonderful story about a Catherine characteristic, one that the whole congregation knew, as did the UHF team back in the day. If in conversation you raised something that hit a nerve, she would begin, ‘Och, … don’t get me started …’ and then launch into a forensic disembowelling of whatever was the focus of her ire at that moment, but done so disarmingly, charmingly and with such humour all we would do is smile and laugh.
We will always miss Catherine so terribly. And her other research colleagues who have passed and are now all commemorated on a ‘wall of fame’ in the Foundation’s offices at Kiltonga: Prof. Richard Clarke, Dr Brian Trainor, Annette McKee, Catherine and Duncan Scarlett (who, sadly, is also remembered in this edition of the Directory). All wonderful people who gave so much to the Foundation and the clients they worked for on our behalf.
One of the biggest takeaways from Catherine’s funeral (and it was clear that Rev. Sleith knew her personally and very well – he was not just filling in the blanks in his eulogy), was her humility and self-effacing, but not meek, personality. This is nowhere more vividly and memorably demonstrated (down the years) than by the fact that although I thought I had learned somewhere that Catherine had a PhD (I was not quite certain), never once in the whole time that we knew her did we ever hear anyone say, ‘Dr Blumsom’, it was always simply ‘Catherine’. I would like to pay tribute to the decency, kindness and friendship shown to us all by Catherine, that is Dr Catherine Blumsom, PhD.