As a 'love child' of the 50's, I never knew my biological fathers details - and sadly, my grandad on my mums side had died long before I was born.
My maternal nan, however, was what you could call a character. I have many memories of her, singing as she came home from the pub, worse for wear! Her favourite ditties were 'By the light of the silvery moon', and 'The Deadwood Stage'. My most enduring[and bizarrely endearing] is of Polly[nans nickname] in the back kichen and a marrow! She was making marrow rum, which entailed hanging the marrow up, filled with demerara sugar, and then it dripping into a container. Unfortunately, my nan had her head upturned underneath, catching the[alcoholic] drips. Impoverished, but happy days.