I am so sad to see that Jim and Nora have passed. I remember how kind they were to me as a child, and how I loved listening to their accents and the connection they were to my father’s dar off homeland. Dad and Jim came out from Velfast to work on the machines at Holeproof and I know how much he valued his friendship. My condolences to his children x

Dear uncle Jim, I will never forget how tall, big and strong you seemed to be! Always quick with a joke, and a twinkle of mischief in your eye, you will be sorely missed. Lots of love, hugs and memories, Frances Bearne (nee Crymble) and family xxx

That is absolutely beautiful Tonya. Thank you for sharing it. He was such a lovely man.. A pleasure to know...Love to you all... Roberta, Alan and all the family.

"Little Jim" Little boy, he's only four Sort of youngster you'd adore With eyes the bluest of the blue That sparkle brightly as the dew They call him Jim. Little clustering curls of snow Pretty sort of hair to grow Somehow I think, he doesn't care Whether black or white's his hair Contended Jim. Like most little boys of four Makes his play-ground just the floor His play mate, Sister Margaret Whose small head oft is a target You'll catch it Jim! Adventure flows within his veins This kid makes use of his brains To satisfy the wander-lust Strolls down the town, because he must Roving Jim. Pleading stories 'tis his craze How he'll drink in every phrase Other attractions don't appeal For he is listening with zeal! Serious minded Jim. The Parson called quite recently And Jim behaved indecently His money box, he passed around His mamma stood aghast and frowned Anxious Jim. I guess when he goes to school He'll often break obedience rule Strong-willed kid, would kike his way To win the victory of the day Be careful Jim! When Au Revoirs must be said Jim gravely wags his little head And there is seen in his expression A pleading look of intercession Downhearted Jim. Frog-hunting, most unusual trait For a boy to imitate With him a favourite pleasure To own a frog, what a treasure Queer boy Jim. Enraptured, he fondled one Just a moment then t'was gone And he was plunged in awful woe That glistening Frog, where did it go? Broken-hearted Jim. Stray cats are his special care Anxious as to their welfare "Little Founder" of waifs and strays Let God through you work out his ways Benevolent Jim. As life grows, may there expand God-given powers, May your hand Christ-like be stretched to help in need Thine aim - true brotherhood, indeed Great-hearted Jim. Poem by James Crymble 1938.