As he approaches his 80s, journalist Jonathan Margolis finds himself drawn to revisiting the homes he has lived in throughout his life, a journey he describes as both tear-jerking and uplifting.
Inspired by Paul McCartney's new album, which touches on themes of youth and memory, Margolis began a quest to reconnect with his past, particularly after the death of his wife, Sue, nearly a decade ago. He found that revisiting places important to their 40 years together—from a favorite beach in Devon to a New York diner and the London restaurant where they celebrated her 62nd birthday—served as a cathartic way to grieve.
Even revisiting the hospice where Sue died and the hospital where they received her terminal diagnosis provided a sense of healing, demythologizing painful memories and diffusing emotional intensity. This practice extended to the houses he had lived in, which he sometimes found himself dreaming about nightly.
A 'Magical Misery Tour'
Margolis's children referred to his endeavor as a 'magical misery tour' or 'secular exorcism.' The reflections were not solely about Sue; they also encompassed the loss of his parents, who both died at age 50 when he was living in the family home in Gants Hill, Essex, where he was born. While working in China, he took a piece of concrete from the crumbling hardstanding his father had laid in 1966 and placed it in Shanghai's People's Square, a symbolic gesture for a father who never traveled beyond Europe.
Echoes of the Past in Gants Hill
His childhood home in Gants Hill, where he lived from 1955 to 1974, held particular significance. During his time there, his brother and father, amateur radio enthusiasts, made contact with King Hussein of Jordan during the Jordanian Civil War. The house became a temporary news hub, with journalists frequenting their back room and the BBC evening news broadcasting live from there. This event inspired Margolis to pursue a career in journalism. The house also witnessed profound family tragedies, including his mother's battle with cancer and his father's painful death from infective hepatitis.
He discovered that even decades later, remnants of past lives persist. A mezuzah, nailed clumsily by his father after the war, remained on a doorpost, coated in layers of paint, and was recognized and respected by the Muslim family who later lived there. He also noted a distinctive brass bathroom door lock, likely original to the house built in the 1920s, which had subconsciously influenced many residents over the years.
Student Days and Early Career
Margolis and his wife Sue's first shared home was a student house on Bramcote Road in Beeston, Nottingham (1974-1977). Later, in Leeds, they restored an 18th-century farm cottage on Parkside Road (1977-1980), where their first daughter was born. He began his journalism career at the Yorkshire Post while Sue worked as a reporter for Radio 4's Woman's Hour. They later moved to Parkland Drive in Leeds (1980-1982), where their second child was born. During their time there, Margolis received a job offer from Fleet Street, and the house later gained local fame as 'the Emmerdale House.'
Later Homes and Losses
Subsequent homes included a house in Woodford Green, Essex (1982-1986), where his son fell down a spiral staircase, and a renovated property in Monkhams Lane, Woodford Green (1986-1990), where Margolis wrote his first book. The family then moved to a large flat on Richmond Hill in Richmond (1989-2013), which offered stunning views of the Thames and where Sue began her writing career. This was followed by a flat in Brentford (2016-2023), a place that held both the joy of holidays and the profound sorrow of Sue's death from cancer. The Brentford flat's location on the Thames held historical significance, having been a crossing point for Julius Caesar and the site of a Civil War battle.
Margolis's current residence is a listed cottage in Kew Green, Richmond (2023-present), which he and his new partner are restoring. He notes that while revisiting painful memories can be difficult, it ultimately replaces the mythical, often disturbing, quality of past homes with a reassuring sense of familiarity. The nostalgia, he concludes, is no longer what it used to be.