William Brendan McBride is my brother, three years older than me. He was called William because his father’s and his grandfather’s name was William, and Brendan, because some time before his birth his parents were on holiday in Ireland, where his mother met a charming five year old boy called Brendan, and decided that if she had a son that would be his name.
Every small boy should have a good big brother, and Brendan was the best big brother I could have had. He didn’t dislike me when I arrived, tolerated me when I was young, and paved the way for me as I grew up.
However, it wasn’t always sweetness and light. When I was about four I wanted him to “come out to play”. By that time he was an avid reader and just wanted to read. Later there were philosophical and legalist disagreements, which Brendan engaged in with energy and vigour, a characteristic which continued throughout his life.
The first concerned a bottle of HP Sauce, “ cette sauce de haute qualite” at the family dinner table, I went to use it after Brendan had done so. As I lifted it up the lid stayed in my hand and the bottle fell on to the table, with the inevitable result.
I maintained that this was Brendan’s fault, as to me, a sauce bottle was an entity requiring a secure lid.
Brendan claimed it was the user’s responsibility to check that the lid was secured before lifting it.
The argument raged on, and was never resolved, even after years.
Later, in my late teens, I left my bedroom one morning, went into the bathroom and assembled my shaving apparatus. Brendan then came in and asked me to leave, saying that he had been in just before me, and had gone out to fetch some item he had forgotten. I replied that the bathroom had been empty when I came in, and refused to leave. Angry words were exchanged, followed by a physical tussle. We each tried to manhandle the other out of the room, and in the course of this somebody’s heel hit the bath panel, a blow which shattered it. This brought us to our senses and we stopped before blows were struck. One of us backed down. I honestly can’t remember who it was, but I suspect it wasn’t Brendan!
Brendan’s interest in mathematics and social justice started early. In the immediate post-war age, luxuries were in short supply. When a cake, often rectangular in shape, appeared on the table, Brendan would take a ruler, meticulously measure it, and divide it between himself, me and our younger brother Hugh.
Maths was his favourite subject at school and at university, and it continued to be so after he graduated and joined the Scottish Amicable Life Assurance Society. He chose it because it was a Mutual Society, run for the benefit of the policy holder, not for shareholders, in accord with his views on social justice.
He qualified as an actuary with Scottish Amicable and in 1964 moved to Edinburgh, to the Caledonian Insurance Company, another Mutual Company.
In 1967 he moved to London to another of the now dwindling group of mutual offices, the London Life Association, where he became Pensions Manager, with Stella, who he had married in 1962, and who has been his beloved wife and closest friend and companion ever since, with their children and set up home in Surrey.
Brendan always stayed true to his belief in Social Justice, so true that he caused consternation among some of his Surrey neighbours by putting Vote Labour posters in his window at election time. I think they feared that the Revolution was upon them!
Brendan and Stella had retained a house in Troon, a seaside town in the West of Scotland, and returned there often on holiday. My wife and I and our children would often meet them there, and all the cousins would have a great time together. Brendan always greeted us with the words “This when the holiday really begins!” and produced large Gins and Tonics all round. I have to say, however, that Stella did not greet this with great enthusiasm!
Brendan was very proud of being a Fellow of the Faculty of Actuaries, a Scottish organisation, and remained so although having moved to England. He returned regularly to Edinburgh for faculty meetings, and along with many colleagues, opposed proposals to merge the Faculty with the English Institute of Actuaries, a move which he felt to be retrograde. He also initiated many successful social events with his faculty friends, of which more anon.
When he retired in 1991 he did not retire into a quiet life. He became fluent in Spanish and Portuguese which helped him to enjoy his travels abroad, was for eight years a governor of a local sixth form college, which happened to be called St Brendan’s,was treasurer of the local Failand Society, and was a volunteer driver for local hospital patients.
He regularly and vigorously wrote to the national and local press on issues on which he felt strongly and did not pull his punches, especially against the machinations and reprehensible behaviour of politicians of all parties.
He was concerned that many people in England, misled by the media, misconstrued the politics and feelings of Scotland. He wrote regularly to the press to correct misunderstandings which arose, especially at the time of the Independence referendum. He even joined the Scottish National Party, which resulted in few of his letters being published.
Brendan loved his children and grandchildren deeply. His was intensely proud of their achievements, and never failed to help, encourage and praise them. They loved and appreciated their father and grandfather in return in equal measure.
One his many actuary friends recalls an occasion when Brendan was playing golf in Gleneagles, a very prestigious course. The term “slice” is used to describe a bad shot which veers to the right and a “hook” is one that veers to the left. A “drive” is the first and very important shot. Brendan hooked his drive, and his partner sliced his. A man was running down the middle towards him which is he shouldn’t have been doing. Brendan called out “You’re taking a chance”. The man replied “With you guys around it’s safer here in the middle” The man was Sebastian Coe.
At the moment Sebastian Coe has been accused of taking his eye off the ball. Brendan never did. He amazed me with the energy, enthusiasm, and tenacity, that he applied to the many causes that he championed and the way in which the incisiveness and clarity of his intellect never diminished. He never feared to speak his mind, and stuck to his principles, always, and to the true values of Christianity.
He stayed loyal to the Catholic Church, but would vigorously challenge and contest any actions of the hierarchy which he considered reactionary and not in keeping with Christ’s teachings.
Throughout his life he neither sliced nor hooked but kept straight and true to the last. He will be greatly missed by all his family and friends.