Part Seven

REMINISCENCES
For most people, memories of an area often focus on images of specific buildings that once occupied a certain spot. But, it is people who erect buildings and it is people who create history. Few individuals aspire to achieving lasting recognition, but without the support of the forgotten masses, it is doubtful if any would attain fame. It is with those thoughts in mind that I offer the following reminiscences. People from differing backgrounds and financial status will have had different experiences of growing up, what follows is based on my own experience. Whilst the time and setting may be different, I feel confident that many who spent their childhood in the Anderston area during the 1950’s will be able to relate to some of my childhood memories.

TENEMENT LIFE
Prior to redevelopment in the 1960’s the tenements in Anderston dated mostly from the 1850-1880’s period and came in a variety of heights, ranging from two to four stories high. Access was usually gained via a common entrance known as the ‘close'. Depending on the property, each level, or 'landing', had access to either one or three dwellings. Each dwelling varied in size, ranging from a one apartment, known as a ‘single end’, up to three apartments. Few dwelling had bathrooms, but most had inside toilets. Access to some of the older tenement properties was via a turreted stairway, which also housed a communal toilet, usually located on each mid-landing. As well as being inconvenient, this arrangement could prove extremely cold during the winter months. Whilst some residents could afford to own their flats the vast majority of tenement dwellers lived in rented accommodation.

Prior to 'close' lighting being electrified, each landing was illuminated by gas-lamp. Being great scavengers, boys were always on the lookout for the carbide residue, dumped by the lamplighter. We would gather the carbide and place a small amount on the palm of our hands, spit on it, and see who could endure the burning sensation longest. The winner earned a painful blister for his efforts, definitely not recommended!

Most houses were warmed by means of heat generated from a coal-burning fireplace. Kitchen fireplaces were generally of two types, either a kitchen-range, or a tiled fire-surround. The 'kitchen-range' was constructed of black cast-iron and was usually around five feet wide (150cm) and five feet high. The 'range' normally comprised of a grate, or fireplace, with an oven to one side. Above the oven would be a gas ring for boiling kettles or cooking. The oven would either be fuelled by gas, or heated from the fire. The entire unit was topped off with a shelf, or mantelpiece, onto which ornaments could be placed. One of the regular household chores, apart from clearing the ashes from the fireplace, was to clean the range with 'black-lead' or some commercial brand cleaner such as 'Zebrite' until the cast iron shone. The tiled fireplace was a more modern replacement for the kitchen-range, it was also much smaller in size with an open grate at floor level; this arrangement was much easier to keep clean.

The most common fuel used for heating was coal, or 'briquettes'. Briquettes were made from coal dust and straw moulded into a brick shape. They were a cheap substitute for coal but did not burn quite as long. Towards the end of the 1950's electric, or gas fires began appearing in homes. With very few exceptions central heating was unknown in the tenements before the 1980's. Coal was purchased each week from the coal merchant. The 'coalman' toured the streets with his horse and cart, or lorry, calling out 'Coal! – Coal!'. The briquette merchant attracted attention and sold his wares in similar fashion. During the early 1960’s a hundredweight bag of coal cost around 15/ (75p).

A story is told of an unscrupulous 'briquette merchant' who was rather fond of alcohol. One Saturday he left his horse and cart in Blythswood Street whilst he adjourned to a local public house to avail himself of a refreshment. Some local worthies, taking advantage of the situation, helped themselves to his load of briquettes, whilst others unhitched the horse, dismantled the cart, and took both the cart and the animal up a flight of stairs into a backcourt, whereupon the cart was reassembled and the horse again hitched to the vehicle. You can imagine the puzzled look of the inebriated 'briquette-man' as he wondered how his horse and cart got into the backcourt, followed by how he was going to get it out again! Of course, the story is apocryphal, but I am assured there is a measure of truth in it.

It is interesting to read the reports of food poisoning today and compare living standards against the 1950-60's. Very few homes had refrigerators, my mother kept milk and any butcher meat on the outside windowsill, where it would be prone to attack from seagulls. Pre-packed food had still to make an impact. At the local butcher, meat was suspended from hooks inside the butcher’s shop, where it was exposed to customers coughing and brushing against the carcasses. Grocers displayed their produce outside their shops, where vegetables and fruit would be open to the elements, not to mentions cats and dogs. Yet, amazingly we all survived.

Although the Second World War ended in 1945, Ration Books continued to be used well into the 1950's. Around 1953, whilst still a young child, I can recall visiting the Skibo Café on Argyle Street, near Finnieston Street and having to produce a Ration Book to purchase some sweets.

SCHOOL DAYS
During the 1950's there were five Primary Schools serving the Anderston Area; Washington Street, St. Patrick's, in Bishop Street, with the Girl’s Primary, off Perth Street, Finnieston, between Port Street and Elliot Street, and Kent Road. Classes comprised of around thirty pupils, being a mixture of boys and girls. Teachers were assigned to a particular class for an entire year. While most teachers were dedicated, caring individuals, life could be miserable for anyone who fell foul of an abusive teacher.

If a teacher took a dislike to a child, at the very least, the child would be subject to the belt and humiliation. I often wonder how many children's lives were affected due to abusive teachers. Each class had to attend the 'medical room' on a regular basis where the 'nurse' inspected our hair for lice. It was always the same unfortunate children who were singled out as having a 'dirty head'. Of course, being children, we were not slow to capitalise on the misfortune of our classmates.

School uniforms were practically non-existent during the early 1950's. It was not uncommon to see children wearing frayed jerseys and torn trousers/dresses. Boys usually wore 'tackety boots' most of which, would be worn through within a short space of time, due to sliding along the roughly concreted playground. When the assembly-bell rang the pupils quickly and automatically formed into lines, and on the signal from the duty teacher, beginning with the youngest class, we quietly processed in succession into our respective classrooms. School uniforms slowly began to appear towards the mid-1950's, with each school having its own distinctive tie and blazer badge.

ELECTIONEERING
There were two main political parties in our area; the Unionists had premises on Argyle Street (opposite Houldsworth Street) and Labour met in the Labour Halls near Finnieston (site of the present police station). For most children, Polling Day meant a day off school, however, for some of us it was a time for enterprise. Whilst most of us had no interest and were blissfully unaware of the significance of the different political parties, we volunteered to post election leaflets through letterboxes in the knowledge that at the end of our task we would be rewarded with a sitdown meal of a fish supper in the Labour Halls for our efforts. When we eventually learned the outcome of the election we were quite convinced that without our support Labour could not have won he seat! To demonstrate our complete impartiality we offered our leaflet delivery service to the Unionists at the following election.

SUMMER HOLIDAYS
During the 1950’s most industry closed down for the Glasgow Fair Fortnight. A number of Anderston families unable to afford a holiday, spent time at home with frequent visits to Kelvingrove Park. Those families, who could afford to spend a week, or fortnight away, went to such exotic places as, Dunoon, Saltcoats, Rothesay and Arran. The foreign holiday had not yet arrived. Youth organisations such as The Boys' Brigade and Scouts provided opportunities for boys to attend summer camp. For most this was their first venture into the countryside and a holiday under canvas, for many it was also their first experience of being away from home and family.

YOUTH ORGANISATIONS During the 1950’s most children were associated with youth organisations such as The Life Boys, Boys' Brigade, Cubs, Scouts, Girls’ Guildry, Guides or Brownies. During this particular era, schools did not cater as much for children as they do now. Most of the Reformed Churches had a BB Company, offering boys’ fellowship and activities that would have been outwith their normal reach. As well as developing social skills, membership of the youth organisations offered the chance to learn First Aid, or join the pipe band, or brass band. As we grew into teenagers Saturday mornings and afternoons were taken up with organised football. Long before schools and paid youth leaders, voluntary organisations provided outlets for young peoples’ energies. During the 1950’s the Glasgow Battalion of The Boys' Brigade operated the largest football league of any kind in the world, fielding over 200 teams every week.

There were around a dozen BB Companies, two Scout Troops, two Girls’ Guildry Companies and three Brownie and Guide packs operating within Anderston at any one time. The average membership of each Boys' Brigade Company was around sixty members, and it was not uncommon for some BB companies to have in excess of a hundred members. Scout Troops and girl’s organisations tended to be smaller, with around thirty or forty members. Sadly, the decline of disciplined youth organisations is reflected in Anderston, the Girls' Brigade and Scouts no longer operate and whilst the Boys' Brigade is still active, it is but a pale shadow of what it once was.

Most children attended one of the Sunday schools that were held in the main churches, the Salvation Army, or the Seaman's Bethel. I can recall my first Sunday school trip to Stonehouse. Some three hundred children descended on St. Mark's Lancefield to eagerly await the arrival of the double-deck buses that were to convey us to our destination. When the transport duly arrived a mighty cheer erupted. As we boarded 'our bus' with our cups tied on a string around our necks, the sense of excitement was palpable. During the journey to Stonehouse there was much merriment, singing and pranks, and before very long, children were swarming like ants all over the park. On a given signal we gathered into our groups to participate in races and various games, after which, we were given a bag containing sandwiches, a piece of fruit and a biscuit. All too soon we were on our way home again, our adventures over for another day. The only other event that could compare to the Sunday school trip was the Life Boy outing, which was run on similar lines. The Life Boys were the junior section of The Boy's Brigade.

AT PLAY
Within the Anderston area there was little space given over for children's play areas. There were in fact only three play areas, the 'swing park' at Crimea Street, with a similar facility at Oak Street and another at School Wynd. All of the play areas comprised of around six swings, a roundabout and a chute. The swings were usually broken and the ground littered with glass from broken bottles. The play area was bedded in concrete, not for us the luxury of falling on soft ground!

The closest public park was Kelvingrove, which was kept well maintained. Believe it or not, it was not until the early 1960's that the public were actually allowed free access to walk on the grass. Prior to this era, there were signs placed on the ground demanding, 'Please Keep off the Grass'. Of course this signage encouraged youngsters to run onto the grass whenever a Park Ranger (or Parkie) came into view. Upon noticing the youngsters breaching the park rules, the 'Parkie' would blow his whistle and a chase would ensue. Of course, this did not deter boys from engaging in a game of 'catch me if you can'. If you were caught for any misdemeanour, depending on your age, you could expect either a boot planted firmly on your backside, a skelp on the ear, or if you were very young, threatened with the police.

Horses and carts, and later lorries, offered great opportunity and challenge for a free ride. The idea was to run behind the vehicle, grab hold of the tailboard and get a ‘hudgie’. It was not uncommon to see youngsters getting a ‘hudgie’ hanging from the back of a three-wheeled Scammel truck, known locally as an ‘Ellie’. Exactly why the truck was called an ‘Ellie’ is uncertain, perhaps it was because a number of such vehicles were parked in a yard off Elliot Street?

Few homes had television even fewer had telephone. Today, television and computers have more or less taken the place of children's street-games. Virtually gone are the games enjoyed by children down through the years. The games that we played included, Tag (or Tig), Kick-the-can, Hide and Seek, Chases, Follow my Leader. Football was the year-round game, but we also had our season for Cricket, Rounders and Tennis, all played within the confines of our backcourt, and seldom was a window broken! Girl's also participated in many of the aforementioned games, but tended more often than not, to play Peever, Skipping-ropes, and 'Ball Games' all sung to a particular chorus. Perhaps one day the true value of backcourts as play areas will be fully appreciated.

By participating in street-games we learned to socialise. Playing together developed our social skills and occasionally we also had to learn to fight. But even in disagreement, we learned the need to make friends again. We were inventive, creating playgrounds out of little. A discarded box could become a tank. A barrel was quickly converted into skis, and the hoops made great girds. With a piece of chalk, a rope and a ball there was no limit to the games that could be played and the endless hours of happy, innocent enjoyment to be had.

THE CINEMA
Television and all the modern home entertainment we take for granted was either expensive or did not exist during the 1950’s. A popular family outing was a visit to the cinema or the 'Pictures' as they were most commonly referred to. It was not unusual to visit the 'Pictures' twice a week. Programmes normally ran Monday to Wednesday, with a change of feature Thursday to Saturday. Cinemas were not normally open on a Sunday.

There were two cinemas in Anderston, ‘The Gaiety' (Argyle Street) near Anderston Cross and ‘The Kelvin' at the Finnieston end of Argyle Street. There were of course cinemas in town and elsewhere, but it was only on special occasions we would travel outside our locality to visit the 'Pictures'.

An evening’s entertainment at The Kelvin Cinema meant more than just watching films. During the ‘Rock and Roll’ era of the 1950’s the manager of ‘The Kelvin’ organised a talent show each Friday and Saturday evening. Between main features, the house lights went up, and local talent was invited onto the stage to perform the latest songs from the Hit Parade. There was no shortage of performers, ranging from the individual soloist, to the group, who would arrive on stage complete with guitars, drums, washboard and an empty tea chest pressed into service as a double bass. On other occasions, words of the latest songs were displayed on the screen, a recording of the artist played and the audience encouraged to sing along. Truly a full evening of entertainment!

Both ‘The Gaiety’ and ‘The Kelvin’ held children's matinees each Saturday afternoon between the hours of 1 - 4pm. We rushed to take our place as near the front of the queue as possible. The nearer the head of the queue the earlier you were allowed into the cinema. There was constant jockeying for position from those towards the back of the queue. Came the magic moment, the doors were opened, we paid our sixpence and were ushered inside. The seats were filled from the front of the hall. There were perhaps up to one hundred and fifty children present each Saturday afternoon. Once the lights dimmed and the 'Pictures' started, bedlam often broke loose, as those seated near the front attempted to crawl under the seats, toward the better seating at the rear of the auditorium. This action defied the logic of trying to be first in the queue. After all, if you wanted a seat at the rear, you only needed to arrive a bit later! However, week in week out the same ritual was followed. I supposed there was as much entertainment in relocating to another seat as there was on screen. I suspect there is no need to mention peashooters and other seasonal projectiles. Suffice to say that the cinema attendants, brave souls that they were, had their work cut out each Saturday afternoon.

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