My brother Murtagh Hogan, also known as John, who has died aged 85, became a successful solicitor in his adult life. But it was as a child, in my opinion, that he made his most significant impact.
Our father, John, a carpet-planner, died when Murt was just seven, leaving my hard-pressed mother, Margaret (nee Duggan), a dressmaker, to look after five very young children, of whom Murt was the oldest. She took him aside after our father’s death to tell him that he had now become the man of the house. It was a message, he remembered, that went “straight to my heart”. We lived in the area of London now known as the Barbican, and Murt had been just another working-class street kid charging about with the other children, occasionally fighting. But thereafter he became very serious and quiet, conscious that his duty lay in love, affection and family loyalty.
From that early age, Murt travelled on the bus to the Co-op every week to get the groceries, chased away bullies who tried to torment us younger ones, took us to the pictures, and looked after us in every way he could. He shared all his interests with me, encouraged me in mine, and always praised me when I made progress.
When the second world war broke out we were evacuated to King’s Lynn, but in 1946 we returned to London, where, at Hackney Downs grammar school, Murt fell into the orbit of the future playwright Harold Pinter and the soon-to-be actor Henry Woolf, fellow pupils with whom he shared enthusiasms as well as parts in school plays.
After national service he began work as a solicitor’s clerk in London. But in 1950 our mother died. Only 20, Murt once again needed to secure the future of his younger siblings. The council had offered us a newly built flat near King’s Cross, but Murt was not old enough to accept the tenancy, so our Aunt Win took it on and moved in with us. We settled on a fair, communal sharing of chores while Murt also dealt with the financial and legal affairs that arose from our mother’s death. When he had become old enough to take on the tenancy, Aunt Win moved out.
In 1956 Murt married Monica (nee Mackey), whom he had met at a rambling club. They moved to Harlow, Essex, and started a family. He gained his bachelor of law degree and joined a firm of solicitors in Hadley Wood, Hertfordshire, eventually setting up his own successful practice in Harlow.
Even outside our family, Murt was widely recognised as a good man with boundless energy who was generous, patient and calm. He also had a good sense of humour and a wide range of interests. He founded and led the choirs at two Catholic churches to which he belonged, and as a supporter of Amnesty International once sat in a cage outside Harlow library to highlight the plight of political prisoners. He had a strong faith and social conscience, and was always a champion of the underdog.
Murt is survived by Monica, by myself and his other siblings, Nora, Mary and Tessie, by his children, Sarah, Christopher, Barbara, Celia and Felicity, and by four grandchildren.
