A True & Miserable Story of Ireland's supposed " Upper Class "

tin79 wrote: »

Excellent. Can you do the original Star Wars trilogy now?

boredsie121 wrote: »

Hi,

I have a story, about everyday Dublin " High Society " Folk, who disown their own sister for "marrying a Catholic" and then disown their daughter for "marrying a car mechanic", and then top it all by internationally abducting a couple of small children and bringing them to Ireland.

It's a bit of a long one. Everybody has a story, just like they have a hole. I'm a hole. So, I'll stop you there on that one. It's just a slice of somebody's life. Just ignore. I am not asking anyone to read. I'm not aiming to offend anyone, or their politics, religion, or social clubs. But, if you enjoy the sort of trashy magazines that do those real life misery stories, or Jeremy Kyle, or the soap operas, well, here is a little story. And its all true.

If you fancy a peek behind the net curtains of a chap in Glenageary who seem to have appointed themselves " Upper Class " in Irish society. Ultimately, I am interested in what anyone with more experience of a certain section of Irish society who consider themselves " Upper Class Irish " or somehow " West British " might tell me, if this stuff is normal and acceptable in that world ? Because this is what I have experienced and I have no frame of reference as to whether I should say "shocking" or "ho hum". So if you do, well thanks !

I live in London. My two London born sons, aged 6 and 4 are in the West of Ireland. They were taken there without my permission. As I was not married to the mother, I have no rights in Ireland whatsoever. I have not had phone contact with them for 3 and a half years. Not seen them and not had photos of them for 2 years. I no longer know what they look like. Obviously, you would have to assume that I might have something to do with that, which I do, but not without the most incredible provocation I could never have imagined. I'm pretty upset.

I'm of typical, ordinary, working class "Catholic" Irish parents who emigrated to Britain in the 50s/60s. I'm not a " Catholic " or any other label somebody might want to put on me. I'm just me. An individual. With 30 direct uncles and aunts alone, I am related to 100s of Irish people. Growing up in Britain, I have interacted with thousands of British people. I thought I " knew people " . I thought that if you were fair and reasonable with others, they would be fair and reasonable with you. I didn't realise that there was so much ignorance and intolerance in a certain section of Irish society.

Aged 20, in 1990 I came to know a girl in London who appeared to be typical of the young Irish people in London at that time. In 1991 I became involved with her. She lived in a shared house in West London, a reasonably grotty pad. I had no reason think she was other than ordinary.

I learnt her father was a senior executive of Ireland's biggest insurance firm at the time (they have been bought out since). He had been sent to London with a grace and favour apartment, to run their short lived UK operation, in hindsight, probably a sort of twilight years favour to end his career. When he came to London, he brought the daughter and son. Just by chance both became insurance clerks as well as a sister in Ireland working in Kilkenny for daddy's company. He retired in 1992, but the girl and her brother both stayed in the UK.

As "Father" and his bizarrely obedient wife had an apartment in the posh part of London called Kensington, it was a while before I met them. I was warned in advance they were a bit odd and could be "funny". Well how odd can they be ? As they were "Irish" I assumed we might have something in common. I'm sort of Irish. They were "Protestant", but I grew up in a majority "Protestant" country and everybody here was perfectly lovely and I had never heard of a thing as religious bigotry in my entire life and after all it's just a different flavour of Christianity, right ? I'm sure we will get along just fine !

They were indeed "Odd". Somehow not very "Irish" to my frames of reference. They seemed to consider themselves more "important" than other people by the things they dropped into conversation. If I had to describe them, the only frame of reference I had was that they seemed to be like "Upper Class English Victorians" that I learnt about in school and off TV in some way. He was referred to by the family as "Father", even by his wife. He had quite a reputation, as a man to be feared and obeyed. Apparently, quite a malevolent, brooding man. The sort of person who would be broodingly; menacingly silent and you would have to guess what it is you had done / not done / said / not said / thought wrong. And I was to see that with my own eyes.

"Father" and wife left in 1992. Back to his "Important" part of Dublin, and set about joining committees to fill his days, but more importantly to maintain his "importance" in Irish society. So nothing anonymous like the local animal sanctuary or pigeon fanciers club. "Father's" style was more committees who had annual garden parties and annual balls and annual prize giving evenings with newsletters and Chairmen and Secrataries and Honorary Directors, where he could get a title and a bit of public recognition, and keep being important. He is a Freemason. He enthusiastically pursued membership of Royal Air Force Association, although he would be an "associate member" as he has no actual military background. Naturally, he is a big, visible, important man at his local C O I church, doing readings professing his " Christianity " and the like. You get the picture.

In 1996, GFs sister was getting married in Kilkenny. When we got there, there was some "drama". Turns out the parents were not attending. Apparently because the prospective husband was "a Catholic". The daughter had been disowned. It was, and is, a "Massive Elephant In The Room". And hush, hush. Nobody is allowed to speak about it. Family events happen but it is like the sister never existed. Nobody in his "Social Circle" knows. He wants it kept very secret. Over the next 10 years when I had reason to ask GF, she would not talk about it, and basically was all her sisters fault for being "stubborn". In fact, she didn't really know as she was too scared of the parents to even be seen to have spoken about it.

Anyway, at the wedding, I learned that "Father" had in the 1950s previously disowned his own sister for "marrying a Catholic" and 40 years later in 1996 was still not talking to her. And that this was the situation with the sister. That was all I was told. Don't know the details, as of course the woman brought the "shame" on herself. But all in all, it does not sound nice to me. In my family, all three children ended up with partners of either Church of Ireland or Church of England and my parent's didn't even notice, let alone question such matters, so I find it very odd to say the least.

( I DID NOT FIND THIS BIT OUT TILL LATER

So, this is 1996. Turns out, prospective husband was BOTH a car mechanic and a Catholic. Was considered “socially inferior” because of his job, as well as "being a Catholic". The Shame ! The guy is a lovely man, and in fact, I have not half the gentle human qualities of the man. He is a lovely chap. Anyway, as time progressed and it came clear they were going to get married, "Father" tried to derail things.

He demanded a meeting and told the intended “You are a car mechanic. Well you are going nowhere. You won’t become anything. You won't make anything of yourself. Pffftt ”.

Then he really laid it on trying to wreck the relationship. "Father" said; “If this woman marries you, she will be disowned by this family. If this woman marries you she will no longer have a family. Does this woman not need a family ? How can YOU do this to her ?”

Please read that again slowly and digest, adjusting your "Irony Detector".

Getting nowhere, he demanded to know about any children. After hearing that their preference would be to christen them Catholic, he told his daughter “No Roman Catholic is a grandchild of mine. I will not acknowledge Catholic children. They will not exist to me. I will have nothing to do with Catholic children whatsoever ”.

My GFs other sister sat in on this, and never said a word. Funny, cos she was then a teacher, now a Dublin headmistress. You would think to challenge bullying and bigotry. Anyway.

As of December 2012, both "Father" and the mother continue to pointedly have nothing to do with daughter and the subsequent three grandchildren. Quite " Christian " hey ?

SO, REMEMBER, I KNOW HE IS TROUBLE, BUT I DON'T KNOW HOW CRUEL HE WILL BE TO EVEN HIS OWN FLESH AND BLOOD YET ... ! )

Years passed. The sister continued to be disowned. I only had to deal with the parents when they visited London, or if I went to Ireland. I played along, did my best to be polite and sociable and agreed with everything he said and never once provoked or argued with him about anything. Simply "Yes Sir, No Sir, Three Bags Full Sir, do tell me more about your interest in Cricket Sir". It was walking on eggshells with them. The mother was like "Hyacinth Bouquet". I tried engaging them a few times, like trying to take them out to a London show or something, but they simply did not want to know. My family extended invitations them to meet for " a drink " or to come to my family house for dinner. Again, didn't want to know. Completely the wrong sort of people (probably, you know, ordinary country "Paddies"). "Father" very picky and fussy about who he associates with.

Obviously, I used to lie in bed at night thinking, we can't get married, we can't have children, if we did, we can't baptise them, the moment we do anything vaguely adult, he will start interfering. One day he is going to come for us. He was quite an overbearing and menacing man when he felt like it. You didn't argue with him.

So, I'm just trying to get on with my life. I have no academic or professional qualifications. I start working life variously as a shop assistant, barman, building site labourer. I start at the bottom in the music industry, moving onwards and upwards into entertainment PR. I end up working with some of the biggest or most talented stars in the world and in 1999 I set up my own business. For 20 years I have never had a holiday, and I'll work 6 but mostly 7 days a week. It's my life. I meet some amazing people, from Michael Jackson downwards, even bring artists into to the private palaces of the Royal Family. Its not a boast, and it matters little at the end of the day, but, while I did not have a trade or traditional profession, I must have worked my way up to a certain amount of professional respect. I put some huge stars on BBC/ITV/International TV shows and galas. I work bloody hard and put my entire life into it. Work is my life. The business ultimately is not financially successful BUT THAT IS A SECRET AND HER PARENTS ARE NEVER, EVER TO KNOW. They just see the "glamour" and on a couple of occasions, they can boast at their garden parties I put them on the guest list at the RDS. Acts I am working with might visit the UK 5/6 times a year but Ireland only once in 5/6 years.

In the 2000s my dad develops Alzheimer's and it begins to rip the world apart in so many ways I cannot begin to explain. Suffice to say, if I get it, I will be going to Dignitas, the Euthanasia clinic.

Children had not been on my agenda unless I could afford to do all the responsible things responsible people are supposed to do. But in 2005 she takes it upon herself that her biological clock is ticking. It might have been nice if she had discussed it with me. BANG ! Pregnant. Bombshell. I tell her we don't have any money, look at our situation. Oh god. No good. “I want a child, I am 36, and this child might be my only chance to be a mother. I want to be a mother, I don't want to miss my chance. This is what I want and I am happy. I am doing this.” "Technically", we don't live together. The flat she is living in, belongs to "Father", and I'd be scared to use a jar of jam they might have left there. They would notice. When they visit, I have suddenly a busy week away with meetings. They are just the most difficult, weird people, I have ever encountered.

GF calls to tell them. (Remember, they don't know anything about my business situation, and GF and I always play the "keeping up appearances game" with them). She simply says “I am 36, I am pregnant, and this might be my only chance to be a mother, this is what I want and I am happy”. They tell her to have an abortion.

When it is clear that she is serious, some weeks later I am told that "Father" wants to speak to me on the phone. ABSOLUTELY BIZARRE. HE SPEAKS. I LISTEN. AND RESPOND AS ORDERED. “I do not WANT you doing anything that has not already been planned. I don't want you rushing into anything. Do you understand what I am telling you. Do I make myself clear. ” Again, and again and AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN. Me: Yes Sir. No Sir. Three Bags Full. Sir. DON'T WANT YOU GETTING MARRIED IS THE CLEAR AND UNDERSTOOD MESSAGE.

Our son arrives. A truly wonderful, adorable child. She is a very possessive mother. It can be difficult for both of us. But obviously I am thrilled. Never imagined I would have children, as if I could not afford to have them, would not have done it. She just did it. I am grateful. I become the very thing I always promised I would never be; a baby bore. "Oh look, a poop, the best poop any baby in history has ever done, must phone my childless mates and tell them about this poop."

At some point, "Father" decides on his “BIG IDEA”. The "BIG IDEA" was, the family (presumably I was included, although never actually asked) would emigrate from London to a village in the West of Ireland. Not any village though, a certain village of his choosing, where he has a fishing cottage, simply ideal to come down to on his free rail pass whenever he likes to interfere in other people's lives and order them around, or simply throw a moody, malevolent sulk of disapproval.

In perhaps late 2006, when son is 3 or 4 months old, GF tells me about "Fathers" "BIG IDEA". A very brief conversation. “Dad says if we move to Village he will buy a house there." I say, "That's ridiculous, why Village of all places ?" She says, "Father knows the town and he says it is the "Best Place" ” Me; “Best Place" for WHAT exactly ? We have absolutely no connections there, know nobody, have no family for over 3 hours drive, your family are in Dublin and Kilkenny, there are absolutely no suitable employment opportunities for me, I don't have a trade, I don't have a common profession, there are no business opportunities, there is nothing for children to do there compared to London. It’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard in my entire life. I've worked all my life to try and make something of myself, and now I am supposed to just phone my contacts and tell them I'm just folding the business and tell my family that I'm leaving to move to a town they have even never heard of and they have to deal with dad's Alzheimers without any more help from me?”. It's never mentioned again.

June 2007, son is 10 months old, GF is taking him to Ireland for two weeks. Out of the blue, the phone rings and its "Father" in an extremely aggressive and confrontational mood, with real menace, aggression and vitriol in his voice. “Are you coming to Ireland with GF ? I want to speak to GF in The West in private, on a private matter. I don’t want you there. I don't want you involved. Do you understand? Do I make myself clear? Are you coming to Ireland, because I don’t want you there, I want to speak to GF in The West in private, I don’t want you there. I don't want you involved. Do I make myself clear? I don't want you there, do I make myself clear AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN ... I keep replying Yes Sir, No Sir, Three Bags Full Sir, time and time again, hoping he will stop. Then he just starts on me about this, that and the other. I do my best, "Well Sir, as you asked ... ", but he just shuts me up with I DON'T CARE ! Eventually I start crying, sobbing, very audibly. I am 37 and I have dealt with the offices of world leaders and some of the arsy-est, most unreasonable, most sh*tty divas you could ever imagine, I've faltered a few times, but NOBODY has ever made me cry like this as an adult.

GF goes to Ireland. She comes back. First thing. "I'm Pregnant Again". God no ! Hang on, did we even do it ? I should have entered the Euromillions. Me "Oh God, we can't do this. Money. Your Parents. Everything". She; "This is what I want. This is what I am doing. I want this ".

GOD ! "Father" will have screaming fits and temper tantrums. Probably disown her. We agonise for weeks. Crazily she wants to fly over and tell him face to face. I plead with her to wire a letter and just let him have his screaming fits and temper tantrums and then disown her, but away from us. Eventually she phones to tell her parents she would at the age of 38, have a second child and that was what she desperately wanted, and it was her wish, and that was that.

"Father's" reaction, absolutely predictable. Screaming, shouting, ranting, raving with all manner of wild emotionally abusive accusations and violent, murderous threats. GF would cry for days after. He SCREAMED at her; “This unborn child has ruined my life. This unborn child has ruined your mother’s life. You have ruined my life. You have ruined your mother’s life. I will kill M(e), I will break his neck, I will have his legs broken ”. Etcetera.

Within 3 or 4 days later a letter arrives, evicting her from his property. No problem, it's his property. (BUT PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE LET HER BE DISOWNED. JUST LET US GET ON WITH OUR LIVES.) Eventually, she is not disowned. She does not want to be and tries to maintain contact. I don't hear a single word from "Father" for nearly 15 months. THANK F*CK !

At this point we are in trouble. She goes to local authority and is provided housing, simples. A £300,000+ two bedroomed flat in an upmarket, green, crime free even architecturally famed 1920s development. NOT a slum. Ant and Dec and other TV presenters live around the corner and you pass them in the street. Everybody has to start somewhere, everybody needs a break. This is as good a place to start as it gets.

Business situation is bad. Dad gets worse. But second son is born in April 2008. The happiest single moment of my life that ever has and ever will be. I cradle him with hopes and dreams. A little family, and we are out of the reach of "Father". Hopefully we will be able to get on with raising these children without him interfering. But more so, my dad, the Alzheimer's had been terrible. A fourteen stone toddler. I had taken him to every museum, every ceremony, every parade, every free display, event, thing in London and SE England to entertain him. I knew every free entertainment London had to offer, but it was not about enjoying them, simply keeping dad busy. My two little boys can benefit from that, we are going to have the best childhood adventures two little boys could have ever, boats, trains, buses, castles, soldiers, tunnels, the lot !

Unfortunately "Father" had no intention of stopping interfering. After a pause, he continued pushing his insane idea of the village where GF knew nobody, 3 hours drive from her nearest family member, and where there were absolutely no suitable employment prospects. Several times he simply turned up in London, on the doorstep with two hours' notice. If she was possessive with the first one, well, the second, in 13 months she never let me once take him out of the house. He was absolutely beautiful with this amazing smile I never tired of marvelling at. I fantasised about just taking him down the high street to see if people looked at him and thought he was as beautiful as I did. She was beginning to get a bit paranoid that the council would see me and say she was not a "single mother", so I was not allowed to stay. "Father" was really adding problems I didn't need.

On January 6th 2009, having had no contact whatsoever for well over a year (anything for a peaceful life), I was told "Father" was on a visit to London and requested a meeting with me. I went, polite as ever. (Yes Sir, No Sir, Three Bags Full Sir, As You Say Sir). The meeting was short. "Father" stated that it had ALREADY been decided that the children would be moved to West Of Ireland Village, it was non-negotiable, and I had no influence in the matter. Apparently I was invited, although I don't remember that bit. He asked me “So what are your plans for your life”. Like I was irrelevant. As ever, respectfully and politely I said my plans were to work, to pay my debts, to resolve my situation, deal with the on-going family problems relating to dad's Alzheimer's. I said we knew nobody in the Chosen Village, that there were no suitable job prospects, there was no opportunity there and that I was opposed to any suggestion. He as good as said it didn't matter. He does not do DISCUSSION.

It was brief. They left. I cried. Again.

A FATHER SHOULD BE “CONSULTED”. I WAS NEVER, EVER "CONSULTED", LET ALONE GIVEN THE OPPORTUNITY TO "DISCUSS" THE MATTER, LET ALONE AND BE "LISTENED" TO. YOU HAVE NEVER MET A MAN OF SUCH SELF IMPORTANCE, ARROGANCE AND INTOLLERANCE.

They started posting things to GF. Various press cuttings from the Irish press. One about a woman in Britain who divorced her husband and went to live in the west of Ireland with her two young children saying it "was the best thing she had done". Another headlined “Grandparents need access to their Grandchildren” ( ! ) Absolutely laughable and sickeningly hypocritical. They had 3 grandchildren in Kilkenny. Ooops forgot, those pesky kids were "Catholics".

A benefits leaflet, detailing the range of benefits to Single Mothers available in Ireland, with a compliment slip from the TD. Absolutely no employment adverts were ever sent. Just benefits leaflets.

On May 24th 2009 "Father" abducted the two children from the UK. Eldest was 2 years and 9 months, the younger 13 months. The fruition of over three and a half years of ridiculous, unwanted, upsetting, harassing, interference and aggression from "Father", who never once gave me the courtesy of a serious discussion. He had three years to speak politely or reasonably to me. Ask me if I would like to emigrate. Ask me what I thought about the jobs situation in a village in the West of Ireland. NOT ONCE. If he had, at least simply giving the impression of asking me what I thought, I would have felt I had been shown some "respect", and would probably have grudgingly agreed.

I contacted the British Police about "Father". They told me they could arrest him at Holyhead. I told GF. She became very upset and pleaded with me. We had been together for 18 years. I'd always felt sorry for her having such difficult, bullying parents. She cried, begged me not to call the police. I reluctantly did what she begged me. She was upset. I cared. As well as being a malevolent domestic bully, an avid, active religious bigot, "Father" now showed himself to be nothing less than a common criminal. Shame he wasn't arrested. Banged up in a British prison cell, his chums at the Freemasons, the RAF Association, his bowls club and church might have seen him in a different light than the respectable, butter wouldn't melt, image he puts on then.

Once he had the children in Ireland, as we were not married, which of course he had DEMANDED and ORDERED, he contacted a solicitor and attempted to manipulate the situation. He told the solicitor a variety of lies about the situation and about how the children had ended up in Ireland and schemed to deny me my rights. He told the solicitor “he was fully supportive of M moving to Ireland”. That is one way of putting it. So “supportive” HE HAD NEVER EVEN BOTHERED TO CONSULT ME ON THE PROPOSED EMIGRATION WHATSOEVER, simply engineered the situation and presented it as "fait accompli", "take it or leave it". He told the solicitor he “selected the town as M’s parents and family came from similar towns.” Cynical yet again, more than half of them left to find work in Dublin, Cork, Birmingham, London, the USA and Australia.

"Father" then started composing a series of letters supposedly from GF, which he then instructed GF to send as her own. The letters were designed to frustrate and provoke me and get a response he could use. GF resisted as much as she could, although she admitted to me over the phone she was under extreme pressure and he had her "over a barrel" as regards her housing situation. She even asked him to stop as she thought he was pushing things to far. We were together for 18 years. We had shared PCs and Laptops and I hers. We were both logged in. Not difficult to see what was going on, and at that stage I was worried how I might get turned over in Irish Family Law, not knowing the situation.

So for over three and half years "Father" had interfered in my life. All the while I had been polite and respectful. I wanted to try and reason with him. GF told me, if I had anything to say I had to write it to him, but anyway, he "Didn't Care".

I'd had to put up with nearly 4 years of interference from this psycopath. I'd been respectful and polite. Others might have snapped. At what point would you have snapped ? When they demanded the first child was aborted ? When he ordered that he did not want marraige ? When he decided to impose emigration without consultation ? When he screamed threatened and raged to with death threats and threats of violence ? When he abducted the children ? When he started trying to manipulate the situation and lied to solicitors to deny a father his children ?

Other people might not have been so polite. I was. Now I am being told if I had anything to say about all his interference, but ABOUT MY OWN CHILDREN, I should put it in writing. I tried speaking to him on the phone. Quite a few times. You have to deal with this man to believe it, the arrogance, the intolerance, the rudeness, the total belief that nobody else has any thoughts or feelings of any value and should just do as they are ordered. I politely tried talking to him. He refused to even let me finish sentences; “I DON'T CARE ! I'M NOT INTERESTED ! I AM NOT INTERESTED IN ANYTHING YOU YOU HAVE TO SAY.” “I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU THINK”. "YOU ARE USELESS.”. This man is a BRUTE.

I get a letter from him. He is going to grant me a meeting in London to discuss the matter. ( How gracious of him. A discussion about the issue AFTER he has taken the children to his chosen village, not before). But on condition that I am not to enter into any further written correspondence or telephone conversations on the matter, as he will not respond. If I am "interested" in this meeting, I am to sign and send him back an enclosed "form" stating I agree to the meeting and that I will attempt no further written or verbal correspondence on the matter in the meantime.

You could say I am a bit outraged by the arrogance. I send him back a very strongly worded letter. I'm tired of showing respect that is not reciprocated. This time I don't mince my words. I mean business now. I send him a form and tell him that "discussions" are where people are allowed to speak uninterrupted, and not only that, I will be having a witness to ensure I do either get to speak, or to see how I am not allowed. He is told he can have as many of his own witnesses as he wants.

So, faced with a situation where I demand to be allowed to speak uninterrupted, to be allowed to have my say, and have a witness present, he sends me back a one sentence letter stating; " I have nothing further to contribute ". Contribute ? The b*stard has spent the best part of four years interfering with me, bullying me, taking away my children, scheming to deny my parental rights, and he now says he has nothing further to contribute ?

I do try speaking to him several more times, reasonably, but this time with a bit more steel in my voice. And what do I get ? Interuption, rudeness, arrogance, snapping, shutting me up.

What would you do with an ignorant, intollerant brute like that ?

Well the story has gone on a bit from there.

A postscript. The other sister I mentioned. She is a chip off the Mother's block. Likes to think of herself as a bit of a "Cut Above" and likes to go "Garden Parties". To be honest, this sophisticated Dublinite does seem to find country people quite amusing.

When all this was happening, I tried to speak with her, to ask her to try and get "Father" to be reasonable, and understand my concerns about the availability of work, but she is a bit of a cheerleader and apologist for him. Even for the disowning of the other daughter, she gives the impression that she "understands" the "lower job" thing and the "disowning" thing, and there can be reasons for it.

So, she told me that despite my concerns about getting work in such a place, she agreed with her father that it was "The Best Place" because the parking is better than in London, and houses have gardens. And that, is that. That's why this village is better place to live than London. Forget jobs for example. But being a headmistress, she is more important than me, and she has to live in Dublin.

So, with the estate half occupied, and houses now priced at a third of the original selling price, with a free car thrown in, headmistress now owns the house next door, at a knockdown 33% of the price, as a holiday home. When her own husband repeatedly can't find work in Dublin what does she do ? She could have gone to live in that village seeing as she thinks its OK to dump me there. But no, her husband was in London for a year, in the SAME SUBURB where GF worked. Husband out of work again, so another chance to live in the Village. No, in Dubai now.

Not only do this family appear to think disowning your own sister and your own daughter the most natural thing in the world, but the rank hypocrisy they display in telling others, do as I say, not as I do, is simply jaw dropping !

So, is that a tale of a certain sort of Dublin folk, and would "Father's" club members be cool with his behavior ? Or is "Father" unique ? In this day and age in Ireland, do people really get "disowned" for marrying somebody who is just a different flavour of the Jesus club, or who happens to be a car mechanic ?