No.7

Some people, 

no matter how old they get, 

never lose their beauty - 

they merely move it from their faces 

into their hearts. 

- MARTIN BUXBAUM

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I remember the summer evening in 1940 when a company of Free French Alpine Chasseurs arrived in our town. They, along with others of the Allied forces, had been forced by the Germans to evacuate Norway, and we saw them looking absolutely exhausted as they entered the town.

Many of them were billeted in a church hall near where we lived, and, once they were settled in, a number of the local families invited them for tea. We got to know one soldier quite well. Before the war Marius Reviglio had been a lift attendant in Nice and so his English was fairly good.

We were surprised to see how easy going the French soldiers were in comparison with the other nationalities. I don’t think it occurred to us that, after their Norway experience, they were entitled to some relaxation.

On one occasion when Marius came for tea, he told us that he had to meet an officer later that afternoon. When it was time for him to go, he was still drinking tea, and we pointed out that he was going to be late. You can imagine our surprise when he replied “Ze officer, he will wait.” 

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When I was a boy my favourite radio programmes were dance bands and cinema organists. It was quite a thrill for me when I was given the opportunity to practise on our church organ and I thought how wonderful it would be to play in a cinema.

Some time later I decided to find out about cinema organ lessons. It surprises me now to think that I was brave enough to go in to the Odeon in Glasgow and ask to see the organist, Lyndon Laird. He came to the vestibule and explained that, although the war was over, there were restrictions on the use of electricity, and so the times when the organ could be used were limited. However he took me to a seat in the back stalls, gave me a cigarette and left me to enjoy a free show. I visited him once or twice, and each time we sat at the back of the cinema, discussing music in whispers.

There was just the one occasion when I had a “go” on a cinema organ. I had contacted Frank Olsen (about lessons) who played the Gaumont cinemas in Glasgow and he arranged to meet me in the New Savoy one Saturday morning.

The instrument, a 2 manual Christie, which probably dated from early in the century, had been in the Tivoli, Glasgow before coming to the New Savoy in 1935. I was surprised to find the keys yellow and worn with age, and disappointed to see that the console was fixed and didn’t come up from the depths!

The New Savoy console

What did I play? I can remember two of the pieces. The Giant Fugue by Bach (nicknamed Giant not because of its difficulty but because the pedal part was said to resemble the wide strides of a giant) and a popular tune “Memories of You.”

In 1958 the New Savoy closed down and, as usually happened to unwanted organs, the instrument was broken up. I’ve no doubt parts went to augment church organs all over the country.

A few weeks later I got my calling up papers for National Service, and I didn’t pursue the idea any further.

However, more than 40 years later, after I retired from office work, I was given the opportunity to play the kind of music cinema organists used to play. I found that a number of the local care homes for older folk had electronic organs, and I volunteered to visit them every week and entertain the residents. I played Sousa marches, Strauss waltzes, light classical pieces, songs from the shows and always finishing with a sing-along medley. I was in my element!!!

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While Europe's eye is fixed on mighty things  
The fate of Empires and the fall of Kings, 
While quacks of State must each produce his plan,  
And even children lisp the Rights of Man;  
Amid this mighty fuss let me mention
The Rights of Woman merit some attention.  
- Robert Burns 1759-96

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In the 1930s Sir Alan Cobham the aviation pioneer was well known for his solo flights all over the world. 

He had been a test pilot for the de Havilland aircraft company, but I remember the years when he toured the country with his “Flying Circus.” With a dozen or so planes, pilots and ground crew, he came to Kirkintilloch on at least two occasions, setting up a temporary airfield just outside the town.

Of course this was a tremendous thrill, not just for me but for  everyone, for in those days planes flying over our town were few and far between, and there was the added excitement of seeing them on the ground.

The highlight of the afternoon was provided by stunts which included the falling leaf, looping the loop, swooping down to pick up a piece of cloth from the ground and wing-walking.

Probably there were short flights for the public, but I can't remember. My father and I were to have that experience a few years later, when planes were doing pleasure flights from the sands at Prestwick.

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Fiona, Lesley and Margaret at Lower Largo, probably in 1964

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A Reminder
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No.6

There's an interesting story behind this 1916 photo of my father's family.

Back Row: John 1900-87, my father Robert 1893-1982, Charlotte (Charlie) 1896-1987, George 1892-1976, and Jean 1898-1960

Front Row: Elizabeth (Lizzie) 1905-1996, Grandma (Charlotte) 1865-1942, Walter 1910-68, Grandpa (John) 1868-1954 and Isobel (Isa) 1900-89

John and Isa were twins - the only twins that I know of in the wider family.

Have you noticed that my father and Charlie have their pinkies linked?

One of my cousins told me that Grandma in those early days was always very keen to have photographs of the family taken. Like many others at that time, the Jaaps were quite secretive about their comings and goings. To keep their visit to the photographer's studio a secret, she devised this plan. Her family, dressed in their Sunday best, would leave the house in ones and twos at different times and go by different streets. The return journey would be carried out in a similar way, and no-one would know what was going on!

The occasion was their 25th wedding anniversary.

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THE LITTLE BOY AND THE OLD MAN

Shel Silverstein 1930-99

Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."

Said the old man, "I do that too."

The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."

I do that too," laughed the little old man.

Said the little boy, "I often cry."

The old man nodded, "So do I."

But worst of all," said the boy, "it seems

Grown-ups don't pay attention to me."

And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.

I know what you mean," said the little old man.

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Loch Faskally, Pitlochry, Scotland

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Some years ago, when our eldest daughter Margaret was in Borneo, she visited the famous Sepilok Reserve for orangutans. Founded in 1964, the Centre’s purpose then was to rehabilitate orphan orangutans, and today there’s a population of 60-80 animals.

During their tour of the reserve, Margaret and her husband came across a cage containing just one occupant - a very old, blind orangutan.

Visitors can feed the animals with fruit, and, having attracted the old fellow’s attention, Margaret gave him a large papaya. You can imagine her surprise when he took the offering, broke it in half and handed one half back to her!

When he had finished eating his portion, Margaret then passed her half back to him. Again he took it, halved it and gave half back. And this happened one more time!

She says she found the incident very moving and I can quite understand that. If only humans were all as generous!!!

Margaret always takes a huge number of photographs on her travels, but this is one Google found for me.

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Did you hear about the old lady who took her doctor's advice to join a fitness class? All her friends at the Old People's Lunch Club were anxious to know how she got on and as soon as she appeared they crowded round to hear her report. "Well,"she said, "I joined the aerobics class for seniors. I bent, twisted, gyrated, jumped up and down, and perspired for an hour. By the time I got my leotards on, the class was over."

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This is an 1886 photograph of some of the inhabitants of St Kilda outside their cottages.

St Kilda lies 40 miles from the Outer Hebrides in Scotland. There had been a small population there for hundreds of years, but since the middle of the 19th century there were never more than 100 people living there. The story of the evacuation of the inhabitants in 1930 is well-known, but I was too young then to know anything about it.

Today St Kilda is owned by the National Trust and became a World Heritage Site in 1986. The island attracts a good number of bird-watchers for it has become famous as a breeding ground for seabirds. Other visitors to the island are volunteers who are helping to restore some of the ruined houses. There’s also a small military base there.

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"It's Never Too Late to Fall in Love"
(song from the The Boy Friend - Book, Music and Lyrics by Sandy Wilson)

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Remembering when we were very young . . .

I REMEMBER the big smile on our father’s face, as Rita and I ran down the street to meet him, his arms outstretched to embrace us together.

I REMEMBER while I was in hospital with scarlet fever being told by a bigger boy that I would die because I had swallowed some of the tooth-cleaning powder.

I REMEMBER with shame an aunt landing on the floor, because I had pulled away the chair just as she was about to sit down.

I REMEMBER hurrying past an aggressive little boy who lived across the street, because he would run up to you and give you a punch. 

I REMEMBER that, when I was unable to go to school because of sickness, my father would come home for a quick mid-morning visit, bringing me a comic.

I REMEMBER a rough boy at school (who, it turned out, was related to me) offering to protect me from bullies. When I named a boy who scared me, he replied “Aw naw, Ah cannae fight him”.

I REMEMBER the doctor visiting me when I was unwell and commenting on the sheet of paper pinned above the bed on which I had written “KEEP SMILING”.

I REMEMBER one Christmas eve I woke up during the night and heard Santa Claus coming down the chimney. I kept my eyes tight shut, and went back to sleep.

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My maternal grandparents John Hardie 1873-1962 and Margaret (Maggie) McFarlane 1876-1963.

They were married on 12th July 1895 and had 8 children of whom our mother was the eldest.

All his working life he was an iron moulder in a local foundry, and I can still see him with his black face and hands arriving home from work.
He was continually on piece work, which meant that he was paid only for the items he produced. If a casting, which sometimes involved a whole day’s work, went wrong (not uncommon), then he wasn’t paid.
My mother once told me that, if her father ever found her reading a book, he would say, “Pearl, haven’t you anything to do?” Now, knowing my mother, I’m sure that as the eldest child she would do a great deal to help around the house. 
On another occasion she told me that he was always serious and never smiled. And then the day came when a friend of his visited, and the two of them sat talking, joking and laughing - and her father was a completely different person. She couldn’t believe it!!!

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In 2012 I was nominated for the Freedom Of Kirkintilloch. The honour was given to Frank Dunn a retired Consultant Cardiologist at Stobhill Hospital, Glasgow. He is just the seventh person to be given this honour. In 1931 the first person to be granted the Freedom of the town was Tom Johnston who later became Secretary of State for Scotland during the war in Churchill’s government.

The Certificate was presented to me by the Provost at a reception for all the nominees. 

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In “Gems of Old Scotland” by Maisie Steven (Argyll Publishing) there are some fascinating stories of life in 18th century Scotland. During that period schoolmasters were poorly paid and most of tham had great difficulty making ends meet. One schoolmaster in the Lothians was forced to carry out additional duties as “precentor, gravedigger, beadle, session clerk, and yet his whole income does not exceed £8 sterling.” (That amount of course is per annum!) The writer comments “This, with the paltry accommodation, holds out little encouragement to a teacher of any merit. Indeed, no man who possesses strength to lift a mattock or to wield a flail would accept of such a disgraceful pittance.”

Among the different customs, some were peculiar to a particular area. In Bo’ness the beadle was obviously an very important man in the conduct of funerals. He “perambulates the streets with a bell, and intimates the death of an individual in the following language:- All brethren and sisters, I let ye to wit, there is a brother (or sister) departed at the pleasure of the Almighty.” So he continued, naming the deceased and announcing the time of the funeral. And I learned that he “also walks before the corpse to the churchyard, ringing his bell.” 

I liked the cure for convulsions which was practised in one part of Shetland. “Convulsions were once very common in this parish, especially during the time of divine service; but are now quite extinct. The cure is attributed to a rough fellow of a Kirk Officer, who tossed a woman in that state, with whom he was often plagued, into a ditch full of water. She was never known to have it afterward, and others dreaded the like treatment.”

In Comrie there was a cure for backache which "is still performed and reckoned very efficacious." There is a “rock on the summit of the hill formed of itself a chair for the saint, which still remains. Those who complain of rheumatism in the back must ascend this hill, then lie down on their back, and be pulled by the legs to the bottom of the hill." 

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A great picture! This is the first of a series in my latest blog
JUST TREES
http://justtrees-butlovelytolookat.blogspot.com

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Breathless
Anon

I'm not too fit, I'll have you know,

I'm overweight and rather slow,

But when I run, I manage; though

I'm breathless!

Though in the past it was not thus,

I am not one to swear and cuss,

Except that, trying to catch a bus,

I'm breathless!

When as a youth, I used to play

With sweet young ladies in the hay,

The girls would be the ones to say:

"I'm breathless"

At sport I'd always stay the course,

I was as strong as any horse,

But now, with just a little force,

I'm breathless!

I guess my life has reached the stage

When these things happen at my age.

If all my passions I assuage,

I'm breathless!

No longer, now, do I aspire

To climb a mountain, walk on fire,

Instead I curb each wild desire:

I'm breathless!

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I expect we would all agree with the following -

“If we gathered our impressions from the newspapers alone, it would be easy to believe that there were no happy marriages, no honest bank officers, no incorruptible politicians. The discordant makes itself heard above the harmonious. Ugliness pushes beauty aside and crowds its hateful visage into the foreground.”

That comment was made more than a 100 years ago in “The Girls’ Empire.”

Well, well. as the French say "Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose" - the more things change, the more they stay the same.

"The Girls' Empire" was described as "an Annual for English-speaking girls all over the world." Examples of some of the subjects covered in the 1903 edition (and this is perfectly true) are how to avoid the evils of excessive tea-drinking, the pros and cons of cycling in a full-length skirt and how to get the best out of your carrier pigeon. I'm wondering if Amazon can supply me with a pigeon.

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NEXT POST   SATURDAY   19th AUGUST

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