Jean with Fiona, Lesley and Margaret in 1961

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After demob from the RAF I had no idea what I wanted to do, but a director of a local iron foundry lived nearby, and it was through him that I got a clerical job in their general office.

There were two iron foundries in the town at that time. Both were very busy, their products being sent all over the world. My job was to assist in calculating bonuses, and in preparing and paying out wages.

I worked with two older men. One of them was always smartly dressed, looking just like a salesman in a gents’ outfitters. Then I found out that he had a Saturday job in a big Glasgow store. The other one had a glass eye, and he would cause new office girls to have hysterics by taking his eye out and laying it on the desk.

There were two directors. The one I knew was very pleasant and easy to get on with. The other was a bit of a terror and his main purpose seemed to be to try to catch any one smoking. Most of the men obeyed the rule, but the elderly cashier didn’t. His desk was in a corner of our big room surrounded by a partition about 7 feet in height, and for much of the day smoke could be seen floating above. The opening of the door of the directors’ room could be clearly heard from the general office, and a smoker had about 10 seconds in which to conceal any evidence. This was usually successful, but on one occasion the cashier failed to stub out his cigarette properly, and his waste paper bucket was set on fire!!!

The unpopular director had a particular dislike of the switchboard which was located in another corner of our room. Sometimes, if the operator was away from her desk, there would be a lot of buzzing from the machine. If he was passing he would rush to it, and manipulate every switch he could find. When the buzzing stopped, he would walk away satisfied.

There was a third director who had retired, but he still got his pay packet every week. I was given the task of delivering his envelope each Friday. (Yes, salaries were weekly, and even he was paid in cash.) One Monday morning I was called into the Secretary’s room and was told that he had just phoned to complain that he didn’t get his money on Friday. Consternation! I put my hand into my jacket pocket and produced the envelope. I had forgotten to deliver it! I apologised profusely, and that was the end of the matter.

While I was there, the company built baths for the workers, and this was considered a very progressive move. There was an opening ceremony (no, the directors weren’t the first to use the facilities), and a special tea was held in a nearby hall for the special guests during which I played grand hotel music on the piano.
I worked there for two years and then tried something very different - organising secretary of a Glasgow community centre.

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Coltness Ironworks, Lanarkshire was the scene of an amazing rescue on 8th July 1909. 

Two steeplejacks were working at the top of a 180ft chimney stack when one of them was overcome by fumes which were constantly being emitted from the mouth of the chimney. The man was lying unconscious on a 20 inch-wide platform, and his shocked workmate hurriedly made him safe by lashing him to the planking. Now he too was beginning to feel the effects of the gases and began the perilous descent.

David McWhirter an engineer at the Works hurriedly joined the gathering crowd at the foot of the chimney, and, despite the fact that he had had no experience of heights, started to climb the ladder, followed shortly afterwards by his assistant William McLelland. 

David reported that “As soon as we got to the tackle we fixed the steeplejack in a bosun’s chair, but the fixing was a mighty difficult task and not by any means free of danger. There was not enough room to allow our freight to pass between the platform and the chimney, and so there was nothing for it but to put him out over the edge of the platform and let him swing free.” 

David shouted the order to lower away and the steeplejack was safely brought down to earth. 

Later both David and William were presented with the Edward Medal First Class from King Edward. 

The connection between David McWhirter and our family is through the Armours. David’s wife was Ann Armour 1869-1935. 

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Jean and I a few days after my 56th birthday

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Thought I'd let my doctor check me,

'Cause I didn't feel quite right. . .

All those aches and pains annoyed me

And I couldn't sleep at night.

He could find no real disorder

But he wouldn't let it rest.

What with Medicare and Blue Cross,

We would do a couple of tests.

To the hospital he sent me

Though I didn't feel that bad.

He arranged for them to give me

Every test that could be had.

I was fluoroscoped and cystoscoped,

My aging frame displayed.

Stripped, on an ice cold table,

While my gizzards were x-rayed.

I was checked for worms and parasites,

For fungus and the crud,

While they pierced me with long needles

Taking samples of my blood.

Doctors came to check me over,

Probed and pushed and poked around,

And to make sure I was living

They then wired me for sound.

They have finally concluded,

Their results have filled a page.

What I have will someday kill me;

My affliction is old age. 
(Anon)

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Leonard Lewis, a friend of ours, 
who died on 2nd December 2005 aged 78.

He and I met at RAF Brize Norton in Oxfordshire where we were doing our National Service. We soon became friends for we shared a keen interest in all things connected with entertainment. We joined the station concert party where he was a jack-of-all trades and I provided the music. For one of our shows we had the professional assistance of Ralph Reader of Gang Show fame who was on our station planning that year’s RAF Pageant at Olympia.

One of our cast was a civilian worker Bunny Shayler, a comedian who had his own small group of entertainers outwith the RAF. Leonard and I joined them and we did quite a number of shows around Oxfordshire. I remember going to one village in the wilds where, on our arrival at the hall, Bunny was greeted with “Are you the man from the BBC?” (He rather traded on the fact that he had once been on BBC Midland Children’s Hour). Not long afterwards though, he appeared on radio in Hughie Green’s “Opportunity Knocks”, and I was one his supporters who accompanied him to the live broadcast in the Paris Cinema, London.

This is a photo of Leonard with me taken sometime in the late 1950s. 

After demob Leonard worked in rep at Morecambe and Ashton-under-Lyne before going to the Library Theatre, Manchester. I met up with him again when he came to Glasgow to join the BBC as a TV production assistant. He and his wife Jean and their three little girls came to live in Lenzie.

In 1963 his work took him back to England, and his family followed. From then on, his name appeared regularly in Radio Times as director or producer of Z Cars, Softly Softly, When The Boat Comes In, The Good Companions, Flambards and others. 
Before he retired, he was the executive producer of the long-running BBC soap "Eastenders."

When Leonard died, the playwright Alan Plater wrote a very fitting obituary which appeared in the Guardian on 11th January 2006. 
www.theguardian.com/media/2006/jan/11/broadcasting.obituaries

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Take the time to laugh - it’s the music of the soul.

Take the time to weep - it’s the feeling of a generous heart.

Take the time to read - it’s the source of knowledge.

Take the time to listen - it’s the strength of intelligence.

Take the time to think - it’s the key to success.

Take the time to play - it’s the freshness of childhood.

Take the time to dream - it’s a breath of happiness.

Take the time to live - because time quickly passes and never returns.

Follow your path -

Go, live and become!

The last line will mean more to people in France for “Va, Vis et Deviens” is the title of a film released in 2005.

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THE NEXT POST WILL BE ON SATURDAY 5th AUGUST

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BACK IN THE 1930s . . .

I REMEMBER the school dentist was a German. In those days there was a great deal of bad feeling towards Germans, and I don’t think he would have much of a chance in the popularity stakes. The school doctor had a poor rating also, and it was joked that, if a child reported to him for an eyesight test, he would recommend a tonsillectomy. Much later I got to know him and he was a very pleasant old man. 

I REMEMBER that, like so many children of that time, I had to have my tonsils removed. I’m guessing I would be about 6 years old. The operation was done in the newly built clinic and I think I was there for two days. As usual my mother worried a great deal, for a little boy of my age had died getting this done.

I REMEMBER that as a youngster I often had bad toothache, a consequence of the iron medicine I had to take. On one occasion, late in the evening, the pain was so bad that my father took me to a dentist who lived nearby. His wife opened the door to us and said she was sorry but “My husband has retired for the night.” My parents thought it was a disgrace that he wouldn’t help a little boy in pain. We learned some time later that he was often the worse of drink, so perhaps it was just as well he didn’t attend to me!

I REMEMBER when an American uncle of my father visited us in the mid 1930s. He and a brother had emigrated around 1895 and, after they had settled, had been joined by their families. He was the first American I had met and he made a big impression on me. 

I REMEMBER someone else who had an American accent. He was Scottish but had been a printer on transatlantic liners. He married Aunt Nessie, a sister of my mother. One evening when I was very small she called at our house. I had been expecting my favourite aunt, and I told her “I didn’t want you. I wanted Cissie to come!” What a horrible little boy!

I REMEMBER another occasion of which I’m ashamed. It must be one of my earliest memories of my father’s parents’ house. I’ve no idea why I did this, but I told Grandma Jaap “You’re bad!” and slapped her hand. 

I used to try composing haiku and this is an example -

many years have passed

but I'm still remembering

that old wrinkled hand

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This is Grandma, probably 1900-1906

and Grandpa

He was the first of 4 John Armour Jaaps. The second was one of his sons, then I came along, and finally my cousin who lives in Australia.

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Peter Sharp was a Kirkintilloch man who, like so many others, began his working life as a weaver. He later became a travelling book-seller, and gained quite a reputation as a poet. He died in 1886. 

This is part of a poem which won him a prize of one guinea from a Glasgow newspaper.

AYE HAUD ON

Aye haud on, and thankfu’ be,

Though little be your store;

And labour on wi’ eydent haun’

To mak’ that little more.

Discontent will break the heart,

And tak’ the strength awa’,

But cheerfulness sustains us aye,

And mak’s our labour sma’.

[Aye Haud On = keep persevering, lit. always hold on,
wi’ eydent haun’ = with a diligent hand,]

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I wonder if anyone in my father's family knew about the Jaap who killed his wife? Perhaps that was something that was hushed up. 

On the 8th of May 1891, the Glasgow Herald reported that James Jaap aged 70, who lived in the Anderston district of Glasgow, appeared in court charged with the murder of his wife Isabella. The jury found him guilty and the judge Lord Young said that, in view of the prisoner’s age and the fact that he was “a religious man who endeavoured to preach to others” he would restrict the punishment to 18 months imprisonment. Surely a very lenient sentence in those days!


Is there a connection between James Jaap and our family?  We found his birth record in the archives for 1822.  It shows that he was born in Paisley, but we have no known family connection with that district. We do have a James Jaap born around 1824, a member of the Dalgety Jaaps of Fife from whom we are descended.

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This vintage advert brought back to me something I had completely forgotten.

In the 1930s Hall's wine was well known for claiming to have healthy properties. When it began advertising in The People's Friend, the Scottish Women's Temperance Association complained to the paper's proprietors that, since the drink contained alcohol, the adverts should not be published in a respectable paper. The anti-drink groups were very strong in Scotland in those days and the People's Friend stopped taking the adverts.

Founded in 1869 the People's Friend is published by D.C.Thomson and Co. This is its front cover today, bright and colourful. How different it was when I was a boy.

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Finally, a few intimations from church news letters -

Thursday night - Potluck supper. Prayer and medication to follow. 

Eight new choir robes are currently needed due to the addition of several new members and to the deterioration of some older ones.

The ladies of the Church have cast off clothing of every kind. They may be seen in the basement on Friday afternoon.


Our Easter Sunday Service began with Mrs. Prym laying an egg on the altar.

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NEXT POST - SATURDAY 22nd JULY

from now on 90plus will be updated every alternate Saturday

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IN THE DAYS BEFORE WOMEN'S LIB . . .

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DID YOU KNOW THAT -

1) In 16th century Scotland, the minimum age for marriage was 14 for boys, 12 for girls.

2) In 1791 a labourer earned 3 old pennies per day, a carpenter 6 old pennies per day and a mason one shilling per day.

3) There used to be quite a number of French people living in Kirkintilloch.

4) Mary Queen of Scots with her husband Lord Darnley intended to come to the town in 1565, though there are no reports that the visit actually took place. 

5) It’s likely that King James IV passed through Kirkintilloch, because he had a short stay in a mansion in Campsie.

6) Bonnie Prince Charlie and his men marched through the town in 1746. One inhabitant shot and killed one of the soldiers who, it was claimed, had been trying to steal something. The Prince wanted to burn down the town, but some of the local leaders pleaded for mercy, and a fine was imposed.

7) The road through Kirkintilloch was the main thoroughfare from west to east - from Dumbarton through Glasgow and Stirling to Edinburgh.

8) In 1710 church elders were appointed to ring a bell on Saturday nights at 9 o’clock to warn drinkers that it was time to go home.

9) It’s believed that there was a settlement in the Kirkintilloch area before the Romans came, since Pictish graves have been discovered 17 feet further down than the Roman road.

10) Most local people know that the name Kirkintilloch means something like “the fort at the end of the ridge”. Some of the variations of the name in old documents include Kirkentolagh, Kyrkintullauch, Kirkyntulach, Kirkintholach, Caerpentaloch and the Pictish version Chirchind.

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These photos of my parents in retirement are particularly good.

Robert (Bob) Graham Jaap 

1893-1982

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Margaret (Pearl) Andrew Hardie

1896-1987

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I remember that our parents insisted that we should always speak proper English, and we were corrected if we used a Scottish word. Broad Scots was the natural language of our grandparents of course, and I was recalling recently that the men in my father’s family, with one exception, were known by their Scottish names -

Robert (my father) was Rabbie, though outside the family he was known as Bob, George was Geordie (pronounced Joerdie), Walter was Wattie (pronounced Wah’ie) and the exception was John (pronounced Joan). 

 There were a few strange expressions in those days. When someone was repeating what they had said to someone else, they would prefix their quote with “sigh”. The vowel here was very short. As a wee boy this puzzled me a lot till I realised that the speaker was saying “Says I”, where we would say “I said” or “I told them”.

Another strange word was “ifwurspairt”. This turned out to be “If we’re spared” meaning - if God spares us, and was usually used when talking about some plans for the future. My father might say “If we’re spared, then next summer we’re going to have a vegetable plot there.” I’m sure people didn’t really bring God into it - what they were meaning was “all being well” or “if things work out” then we'll do such and such a thing.

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There's nothing the matter with me,

I'm as healthy as can be,

I've arthritis in both of my knees,

When I talk, I talk with a wheeze.

My pulse is weak, my blood is thin,

But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

All my teeth have had to come out,

And my diet I don't think about.

Overweight and I can't get thin,

But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

Arch supports I need for my feet.

To help me go out in the street.

Sleep is denied me at night,

Next morning I find I'm all right.

My memory's failing, my head's in a spin.

But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

The lesson from this I've been told,

Is for all who are growing old.

It is better to say "I'm fine" with a grin,

Than to let people know the shape we are in.

I'm fine, how are you ?

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Taken around 1978, in this photo I'm playing the Omegan Classical organ I had at that time

During my time as a club musician, I met some very talented amateurs. It was rare for those singers to have written music with them, and I had to follow as best I could. Since they usually didn’t know in which key their song was set, I would ask them to start on their own, and after a couple of bars I was able to join in with a suitable accompaniment.

I must mention that my knowledge of “pop” goes no further forward than 1960, and at times I was probably the only person in the club who didn’t know the number being sung. Fortunately the drummer knew his stuff, and was a big help to me.

Of course all the professional artistes had band scores, most of them very well written, and playing them was a challenge I really enjoyed.

For a while I played occasionally for cabaret at a golf club, and it was there I met one of their members - a very amusing amateur comedian. He reminded me of the American George Burns, and the audience loved his casual, relaxed style. I was so keen on his act, that I arranged for him to appear in the club where I was resident. And I was completely shocked! He was a flop! The poor man, away from his usual golf club fans, had a real struggle to raise a laugh. 

That was the one and only time I recommended an entertainer.

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This is Wallace's Well, just a few miles from my home. It's said to be the place where William Wallace (1272-1305) had a drink shortly before being captured at Robroyston. He was handed over to Edward I of England who had him executed for treason.

This is an extract from the statement he made at his trial on 23rd August 1305.

“I can not be a traitor, for I owe him no allegiance. He is not my Sovereign; he never received my homage; and whilst life is in this persecuted body, he never shall receive it. To the other points whereof I am accused, I freely confess them all. As Governor of my country I have been an enemy to its enemies; I have slain the English; I have mortally opposed the English King; I have stormed and taken the towns and castles which he unjustly claimed as his own. If I or my soldiers have plundered or done injury to the houses or ministers of religion, I repent me of my sin; but it is not of Edward of England I shall ask pardon.”

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Finally, something to make you smile -

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NEXT POST - SATURDAY 8th JULY

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