Dads Writing 1: Growing Up

I was going through a storage room at my Mums today and we found an exercise book with some of Dads writing in. There's only 3 bits in there but I thought I'd start to type them up on here if anyone wanted to have a read.

The first is the story of his childhood in Glasgow.

I was born in a small cobbled street in Glasgow, called Lyon St. The buildings were tall tenement buildings four storeys high and very old, so old in fact, that they were condemned before my parents moved into the single-end (single apartment) we lived in.

The living space was about 12 feet square with two recesses in it for a bed in each recess, a range which supplied heat and for cooking meals, a gas mantle for light and a cast iron sink with just a cold water tap.

My family consisted of my Father, Mother, elder sister, elder brother, young sister, who came onto the scene 3 years after me, and myself. In that small space six of us lived, slept and ate our meals, to say things were cramped would be putting it mildly.

My father was one of the many who was unemployed, the only money he got was from the 'Means Test' (Social Security) and it wasn't nearly enough for six of us to live on, so my Mother had to go out to scrub floors and stairs to earn a little extra, but she had to be very careful, as the Means Test sent out people to spy on families, and spy they did. They had the authority to enter anyones home and go into cupboards and drawers to see if they had anything of value, and if the Means Test found out that one of the family was earning a few coppers, all benefit was stopped, so when my Mother went out for her little job, she had to carry her old working clothes in a shopping bag.

The part of tenement that we lived in was propped up with big beams of timber, each storey (landing) of the building had eight single-ends on it and two toilets which were shared by eight families, although living conditions were cramped, and always short of money, I can honestly say we were happy and contented, we ate regularly, and what my Mother could do with little bits of meat and bones she got from the butcher was miraculous. The only meal I didn't like was the one she made of mince. She'd buy a quarter pound of mince and cook it with so much water it became like a mince soup, she had to do that so to feed the six of us. She even went without food herself to give us a little extra to eat. Luckily we children had meals at school, which was normally a three course meal, how the schools did it in those days I don't know, as money was very short all round.

The school we went to was called Grove St. School, another very old building with large, high classrooms, which were bitterly cold in the winter - so cold that we'd have to sit with our coats and our scarfs on while having lessons, and the toilets were outside. The toilets had no roof on them and when it rained and you went to the toilet, you got wet. Also during playtime you had to go to the playground, no matter what the weather was like, and the schooling was very strict, you got strapped for the least wrong thing you did.

I'll always remember those straps (belts) they were leather, about 18" long and 2" wide and over an eighth of an inch thick, and when you got strapped the teachers would swing the straps up over their shoulders then bring it down hard on your hands, it was very painful as not only your hand was hit, but also part of your arm, so we learnt quick not to make mistakes or do anything wrong.

Then after school we'd play in the street until our supper was ready, but being young and energetic, we'd get hungry long before supper time, and if you had been in the street then, you'd hear the children shout "Hey Maw, throws doon a Jeely Piece" (Jam sandwich) and the mothers would throw them out of the window wrapped in newspaper, and sometimes, when thrown from the top storey, the newspaper would loosen and the Jeely Piece would land without any wrapping, but that didn't make any difference, we'd eat it just the same.

As I've said my Father was unemployed and like the rest of the men in the street he had to find ways of passing his days. Two days of the week was mainly spent in the 'Broo' (Job Centre) as he had to 'sign on' in those days. As the Broo was always crowded with men looking for work, he'd have to wait a long time to sign on. Most days he'd stay away from home at dinner time (Lunch time) so that my Mother could save on the food, so he would spend his signing on days at the Broo and eat his 'pieces' (sandwiches) there that my Mother may have been able to give him.

The other days he would play (if he had any coppers), Pitch and Toss, on the piece of spare ground in the street. Pitch and Toss was played by making a line on the earth, then the players would stand about six or eight feet from it and pitch their coins aiming for the line, the nearest one to the line would have the first go at tossing the coins. This was done by placing two or three coins on the index and middle fingers of the hand, palm upwards, and tossing the coins in the air making them spin, and the person who tossed them called out Heads or Tails, the coins that landed the way the person called he kept, then the next man nearest the line tossed the remaining coins, and it went on until all coins were claimed.

My Father didn't play that very much, as he tried to save his money for the Billiard Rooms, he was a first class snooker and billiard player, if he could get enough money to pay for one game, then he could be there playing nearly all day as they played that loser pay, and my Father very seldom lost. Sometimes bets would be made, I've known my Father to hand my Mother half a crown when he got home in the evening as part of his share of the bets.

As for my Mother passing her days, the days weren't long enough for her, as she'd be out from early in the morning until before we got home from school, then she'd clean the flat, get our suppers ready, mend our clothes, do crocheting, knitting and embroidery then get us ready for bed. Then after we went to bed, she'd sit with my Father and talk of how they'd like to give us a better upbringing, but being poor there was no hope of that, still, they had their dreams.

We children, not knowing any other way of life enjoyed ourselves in our own way, some of my friends and I would stand at a corner of Garscube Road (the gaspipe) and Dobbies Loan and wait for lorries to turn into Dobbies Loan, then when the lorries slowed down enough, we would jump on the back of them and hang on, usually with our legs dangling inches above the roadway, or we'd jump on the back of the trams and hang on by our finger tips to a narrow ledge and get a free ride to the next tram stop. The conductor would usually try and get us off by trying to hit us with the rail-changer, but we'd be too far away from him.

These free rides that we got we called it "getting Hudgies", if we weren't getting Hudgies, we'd be playing at leaps. We'd find somewhere where there was plenty of Dykes (Walls) and Middens (small stone shelters for rubbish and ashes) then we'd jump from Dyke to Midden or Midden to Midden, some places had buildings that used to be for washing clothes, we used them for our leaps too. But I guess our most dangerous game was, we'd climb up into the loft in the tenement and open the skylight and get onto the slates, we'd then crawl up to the apex of the building and walk along it, sometimes we'd run from the skylight to the chimney, which was about 20 feet from the skylight. We'd run up towards the apex in an angle then down in an angle to the chimney, we'd never run back the way, we knew it was too dangerous, though being children we didn't consider what we were doing was dangerous, to us it was just a game.

There were several other games we'd play, one we called 'K.D.R.F' (Kick Doors Run Fast), we'd knock on doors then run off, leaving people to open their doors to find no one there. Sometimes we'd tie the handles of two doors opposite each other with a long piece of string, then knock on the doors, then we'd have a laugh as one person would get their door opened a bit then the other person would open their door pulling the first persons door closed. Looking back I guess we were little horrors.

Another game we used to play was called 'Buckety-Buck-Buck'. There'd be a group of us, we'd get a tin can and one of us would throw it as far as he could, and while another would run to fetch it, the rest of us would run off and hide somewhere, then the one who had to fetch the can would place it on the street and go look for us. The ones he had found had to stand near the can, but then as he was away looking for others one of the still hidden ones could rush out, grab the can, and bang it on the ground and shout "Buckety-Buck-Buck!", then throw the can away, letting the ones that were caught go hide again.

There were lots of things we used to do, as not having much money, we'd make our own toys. We'd walk to Cawder woods which was about 6 or 7 miles from where we lived, and get branches of trees and makes bows and arrows and slings (catapults), or we'd get some wood and make swords, knives and aeroplanes. Sometimes we'd fight another street, usually Balnain St. which wasn't far from us. We'd make loads of tomahawks, which was done by putting a length of wood inside a tin can and bashing the can flat making sure the wood (handle) was kept to one side of the can when flattened. These we would throw at the Balnain St. kids, sometimes we'd win, sometimes they would, we'd always come home covered in blood from bruises and cuts we received in our battles. We never worried about that, the only thing we'd worry about is what our Mothers would say if we got our clothes torn.

I'll always remember Balnain St. as there was a mission house there. On certain evenings they would show coloured slides, and those that went were given a cup of tea and a bun. We went for the tea and buns, though we had to sit and watch the coloured slides and listen to a lecture.

There were also 5 cinemas quite near us, there was the Grand which was near the start of the city centre, then there was the Phoenix which we endearingly called The Bug-House, which had benches instead of seats. There we watched the original Buck Rogers, also Pearl White, Laurel and Hardy, The Three Stooges, The Dead-End Kids and The East-Side Kids, and the cowboys like Tom Mix, Gene Autrey, Roy Rogers and I nearly forgot my favourite Old Mother Riley. We could always go to the cinema, as we could sneak into the cinemas, all accept the Grand, we could never find a way of getting in there. There were also the Astoria, the Magnet and the Electric which were all easy to sneak into.

John Downie.