Ursula Mary Fox Foggo Hinson

August 1, 1920 - December 26, 2001

Mary Ursula Fox. These were her given names, although her name was turned around to Ursula Mary Fox, and she was called "Ursula" by the family and friends even 'til today.  She was born on St. David's Island to Myrtle (Fox) Griffith and Pilot Charles Griffith.

Ursula was born with an open heart valve which remained undetected for many years due to the primitive lifestyle of Bermuda. Her frail condition was enough to warn that every known remedy be used in order to battle death. She did not speak or walk until she was three. Perhaps in her infinite wisdom, she knew that she had to save her energy to survive.

Ursula attended Kindergarten in St. David's and went on to St. George's East End School. Along with other school children, she boarded the ferry boat routinely each morning which carried them across the harbour to school. She completed her studies at the age of sixteen. Mama Myrtle's desire to provide her daughter with a solid academic foundation for the future gave her the courage to send Ursula to live with her sister, Valetta, in Hamilton, the capital of Bermuda.  Now far from home, and without even the means of a telephone to hear the sweat gentle voice of her beloved mother, she completed her education over the next 2 years at Northlands Secondary School. 

At the age of 18 years, both fully matured and educated, she married my father, Oliver Foggo and shortly thereafter she became pregnant.  Because my mother was so frail, her first pregnancy created problems. Eight months pregnant and realizing she may be in labour, and being home alone, she was forced to demand enough strength from her body in order to walk to my great grandmother's home, Mama Dolly, for assistance. Mama Helen, my father's mother and the local midwife, was summoned and she lost no time in pointing out that my mother was not carrying right. She needed urgent professional attention.  Having no motor transportation, the decision was made that she needed to be in hospital. This prompted a trip by ferry to St. George's, and a further train ride to Hamilton.  King Edward VII Memorial Hospital, which was located in Paget, was now within a reasonable walking distance.

Following her medical examination my mother was given two choices by the doctor. She could save the baby or she could save herself as there were massive complications. My young, beautiful mother, said she wanted to save the baby - ME.  Can you imagine that, even in her youth, she was unselfish and cared more to save me, her unborn daughter, than she did for her own life. Medical miracles and God-given miracles occur everyday today, but in that day and age, medical miracles did not often occur.  Dr. Eugene Harvey, saved both me and my mother!  Me, a tiny, baby girl, was given his name in honour of the miracle he performed that day after I was born by C-section on July 18, 1938.

My father, who was a great sportsman, was playing cricket at the St. David's Cricket Club while all this was going on. He was not aware of what was happening nor was there enough time to walk the distance to advise him. His nickname was "Corker" because he could hit the cork ball they used in the game, for 4's and 6's just about every time he attempted to hit a bowl to him.  He used to hit that cork ball right into the ocean from the playing field.  He had massive hands, was very tall and extremely strong. A product of the Fox/Foggo "breed" from St. David's island.  Stamped.  My uncles, grandfather, and my cousins, all had that "look". No matter where they went, inevitably someone would approach them and ask if they were from St. David's. However, when the announcement of my miraculous birth filtered back to the St. David's Cricket Field there was a grand celebration in the Club House that day. 

By 1940 my baby sister, Millicent, had arrived and shortly after Mama started her first job at the Kindly Air Force Base, folding towels in the Laundromat. The exertion of riding her bicycle up and down the hills, and around the sharp twisting corners every day, while caring for her husband needs and two small babies and with her heart condition, it proved too physically tiring. She decided to stay at home and care for her  loved ones. Within this period of time the American Air Force Base continued to expand and somewhere in between the two pregnancies my parents had to pack and up house and relocate elsewhere on St. David's Island.

I pay absolute tribute to my mother every day of my life, for I can truly say that if it were not for her ultimate sacrifice, her willingness to give her life for me, I truly would not be here on this earth today. I physically looked much like my mother in earlier years; and as I mature, I am told that I am beginning to take on the appearance of my maternal grandmother.

My mother was said to be "one of the most beautiful girls on St. David's Island" in her day.  She had long silky black hair and soft black eyes. Small in stature with milky chocolate skin. She weighed 97 pounds for many years.  I remember my mother looking like that when I was a little girl.  I so loved her, for she interacted with my sister and I were like we were her little dolls.  She was gentle, soft spoken and kind. An image of her mother - Mama Myrtle.  She never raised her voice, and did everything she could to allow us to have a wonderful childhood.

We lived high on a hill in St. David's in our new stone house, appropriately named, "Hope So" by my father. Our home overlooked the ocean on both sides of our property.  The wind would whip through there and I can remember standing on the hill with my sister allowing the wind to blow through our hair. That somehow seemed to be an occurrence, or an event! The wind became another toy for us.

My mother used to drink this concoction whenever she was ovecome with one of her heart murmurs. It was considered a Jamaican herb and was the "prescription" given to her by a doctor that Mama Myrtle had consulted because my mother was often ill. This concoction was called "Benjamin's Red Lavender."  It was contained in a small brown bottle with a cork as a stopper.  Even though my sister and I were young, we knew what to do, so we would hurry up and heat the water that the lavendar had to be mixed in and she would drink it and it would revive her.  I remember it being purple when mixed with the water. Purple has always been my mother's favourite colour. In later years she had her car painted purple and presently her home on the outside has the combination of purple and white. For many years she relied solely on this medication, as there was nothing that could be done for her in Bermuda. We did not have insurance and certainly could not afford a trip nor medical attention at the hospital.

Early in their marriage, my mother and father divorced. In order to secure employment, she moved near the City of Hamilton. Both working and caring for my sister and I proved to be too much for her. She relented with a heavy heart, and again made the ultimate sacrifice. She gave me to my father in order that my grandparents could raise me. I know this was a difficult decision for her to make, but she did so, knowing that I could have opportunities she could not afford to give me. I love my mother deeply. I cry whenever I think about how she suffered and sacrificed for Millicent and I.

She eventually married a gentleman, Mr. Webster Hinson, who was 30 years older than she. He was extremely supportive of my mother, and they had many happy years together. His pet name for her was "Sugar". The marriage was successful and ended when he died at the age of ninety-four. In 1977, my mother's heart condition worsened. I brought her to the Cleveland Clinic, a world renowned Ohio hospital for open heart surgery. She lived with us for about 5 months before returning to Bermuda. During her recuperation process, we learned that her beloved brother, Vernon Fox, had died of a heart attack. The decision was made to tell you of this unexpected tradegy. She took it hard bbut watching her overcome yet another blow, and gain strength every day and the effort she made to talk and walk was miraculous. I could not do enough for her.  I had become the caregiver, and I did it willingly. She survived the operation, and was given 5 years to live (she did not know this until I told her recently) and she proudly responded to me, "but I survived for the past 22 years!".  Yes, mother, you have survived and I hope and pray that you will survive as many years as God will give you.  She has had other operations over the past years, including two hip replacements, and several other minor operations, but she somehow pulls the strength to go on from deep within her.

Her accomplishments?  Well, what can I say?  She has raised two dedicated daughters who love her dearly.  She has 3 grandsons (all accomplished), and 8 grand children (who are on their way to becoming accomplished - two of the oldest have mastered the art of piano and violin and are excellent students). All, who would not hesitate to give their lives for "Granny".  She has helped them along the way to own their own homes, helped with college tuition, instilled values and deep appreciation for the family structure, and is a strong believer in country loyalty to Bermuda. One of her passions is to entice those of us who have from time to time lived abroad, to come back "home". She wants all of us around her most of the time.

Her visions and hopes for the future? She told me a few days ago when I asked her what she wanted to do in the next century and she responded.... "well, today I feel happy and contented, but I do not like being alone. I want to start knitting again and I want to make a few Afghans". Mama's words of encouragement for the future for all of us?  "I pray for everyone night after night and hope that none of my grandchildren will go afoul of the law, and that they all become accomplished in their chosen fields".

 This is my mother.  My beautiful Ursula Mary. Her life filled with happiness and tragedy, almost theatrical in nature. The tapestry of her life is interwoven into my sister's and mine so tightly, it will never break. Mama is 79 years old now, and still as beautiful as she ever was.