No.2

This card was sent to me by the Sunday School of the church my parents attended on my first birthday in November 1926.

The Christian Church didn’t always approve of observing birthdays and the rejection of celebrating them continued right down to the 4th Century. So many customs and traditions had their roots in paganism and that was the case with birthdays. 

An article from the German magazine Schwabische Zeitung in April 1981 explains that the origins of celebrating birthdays “lie in the realm of magic and religion”. It continues - “The custom of offering congratulations, presenting gifts and celebrating, complete with lighted candles, in ancient times were meant to protect the birthday celebrant from the demons and to ensure his security for the coming year.”

Both the Romans and the Greeks believed that everyone had a spirit who attended the birth and watched over him or her for life, and birthday celebrations were partly in honour of that guardian angel or spirit. There was a special significance about sacrificial fire and lighted tapers, which explains why we have candles on our birthday cakes today.

Were birthday parties common in my childhood? I don’t think so, for I can’t remember my sister or me having any or going to any. The only children’s party I recall (apart from those held by the Sunday School) was one which our Aunt Frances had for her piano pupils, and all I can remember is that I refused to join in a kissing game and went in a huff.

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In the 1970s my parents had a caravan at Callander and we have happy memories of holidays and week-ends in and around the town.

In November, 2008 Jean and I spent an enjoyable few days there, and were glad to find that much of Callander remains the same - the River Teith with the swans and ducks, the mound where Margaret and Fiona used to sit playing their guitars and attracting the attention of interested boys, the main street with the big Dreadnought Hotel, numerous gift shops and cafes. And of course looking down on the town, there's the imposing Ben Ledi with a little snow on its summit.

Some things have changed of course - the church with the tall steeple is now a Rob Roy museum, the Ben Ledi café is now a fish and chip shop, and the little sweet shop where we bought "soor plooms" is no more.

We were most fortunate in choosing that particular week-end, for up till then the weather had been continuously bad, and just the week before our visit there had been quite a bit of flooding when the Teith overflowed.

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I don't think many folk will know the identity of the man pictured here. And, if they find his signature legible, may still be wondering.

He was a top Scottish comedian in the 1920s and into the earlier years of the 30s. TOMMY LORNE was born Hugh Gallagher Corcoran in Kirkintilloch in 1890.  For his act he wore white make-up, boots that were too large, a jacket that was too short, a Glengarry and a very short kilt. I would be about 10 years old when he died and I remember the day of his funeral when he was buried in the local cemetery.

Quite a few artistes from our town became famous. The singer Moira Anderson was a young girl when she joined The Kirkintiloch Junior Choir, a group of singers who become popular on the radio and at their concerts  around the country. Two other professional singers had been choir members - Patricia Purcell who joined Sadler's Wells in 1961 and Joan Summers was another singer who made her name in the operatic world. One of the boys in the choir Alasdair Graham became a concert pianist. I remember him - a little pale-faced boy who seemed to spend all his time practising and any time I passed his house there was always the sound of scales and arpeggios.

ALASDAIR GRAHAM

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Q - WHEN IS AN EGG NOT AN EGG?  

A - WHEN IT'S DRIED

During the Second World War there was a shortage of fresh eggs and the government tried to solve the problem by introducing dried egg powder. The public were not at all keen on the idea and the Ministry of Food began a publicity campaign. 

Dried eggs are the complete hen's eggs, both the white and the yolk, dried to a powder. Nothing is added. Nothing but the moisture and shell is taken away, leaving the eggs as wholesome, digestible and as full of nourishment and health-promoting value as if you had just taken the eggs new laid from the nest.

Yes, it sounds all right, doesn't it? However, a great many folk weren't convinced. Margaret and Fiona won't be surprised to learn that I couldn't tell the difference!

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P.S. Fiona was looking through the website of our local newspaper today and found a reference to the operatic singer Patricia Purcell mentioned above. I was astonished to find that I was the accompanist when she sang at a church concert in Lenzie. I have no recollection of that. I suppose at that time she was just another singer.

THE NEXT UPDATE HERE WILL BE ON

SATURDAY 11th MARCH

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No.1

After our wedding at Sandyford-Henderson Memorial Church, Glasgow

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Our first home at Walkerville, Loch Road, Kirkintilloch

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Then to Regent Square, Lenzie

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Finally to Langmuirhead Road, Auchinloch 

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Our daughters: MARGARET, FIONA and LESLEY

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Many years ago I was given as a birthday present a copy of the Daily Mail dated 10th November 1925 - the day on which I was born.

I occasionally look at it and each time I'm amazed at the size of the pages. 17" by 23" makes the paper quite a handful and, considering the very small print, it would take many hours to read the whole thing.

The front page has no news stories or photographs; it consists entirely of adverts - 10 of them presented in a very sober way; all-wool tweed suits at £2, trench-coats at £1 and 15 shillings, bedroom suites consisting of wardrobe, dressing table and chest at £21 (£2 deposit and £1 per month), cigarettes at 20 for 1 shilling.

Adverts take up most of Page 2, and then we come to a number of pages reporting stocks and shares, company news, and legal matters.

Among the news items, I spotted a story about the Savoy Orpheans. They were a popular dance band and as a boy I heard them regularly on the wireless. 

The newspaper reported that "Listeners will hear the first concert to be broadcast by wireless from the air at five o'clock this afternoon. The 12 Savoy Orpheans, flying over London with more than a ton of instruments including a piano, will play and a number of theatrical stars will also contribute to the entertainment."

Apparently, it was known that the high altitude would affect some of the instruments and they would need special treatment. An example was the soprano sax which "has to be wrapped up in what is to all intents and purposes a thick woollen overcoat and retuned for the altitude."

 The entire back page is taken up with good size photographs of the Lord Mayor's Show and the Banquet. I was intrigued by the picture of a 15 year old girl Miss Sylvia Densham  described as "The Mayoress of Kingston." And then I read that the elderly man beside her was her father. He was wearing a chain, so he was probably the Mayor of Kingston whose wife was dead.

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This is a cigarette card image of the American-born pianist and bandleader Carroll Gibbons who led the Savoy Orpheans for many years.

Enclosing advertising cards in cigarette packets began in America in 1875. One of the earliest companies in the UK to take up the practice was W.D. and H.O. Wills - the card above was one of theirs. Very soon the cards were being issued in series and smokers began collecting them. The subjects included Sports and Sports Personalities, Films, Stage and Radio Stars, Aeroplanes, Animals, Birds, Pets, Garden Hints, Wild Flowers, Tropical Fish. and many more.

I've just just discovered that someone who collects cigarette cards is a cartophilist. (I'm always learning.)

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In this, the earliest photograph I have of my family, Rita is just a baby and I am three years old.

My mother once told me that I could talk long before I could walk. It seems that, when they propped me up somewhere and encouraged me to come to them, I would shake my head and say, "No, can't do it."

Our parents made sure that my young sister and I were taught to speak proper English and I'm sure our aunts (our mother's sisters) were an important influence.

Another recollection from my mother. She was visiting one of her friends, perhaps to show off my new sister, and I of course went too. The friend's house was situated near Lenzie railway station, and, when the hoot of a train was heard, she lifted me up and carried me to the window which looked out on to the track. "There it is," she said, "That's the choo-choo." And I replied, "No, that's a train!"

There was one occasion when I was corrected for using a Scottish phrase. I was probably five or six years old and I was in a neighbour's house to play with the two children there. I mentioned that I often played with my toys "ben the bedroom." The mother at once told me that that was quite wrong -  I should have said "in the bedroom." Of course "ben" is a Scottish word which describes a high mountain or mountain peak, but the dictionary also gives "the inner room in a two-room cottage."

We soon learned that there were certain words which we must never say. One of them was "bitch." Once, while angry with Rita, the word slipped out. I immediately realised what I was saying and I quickly added the letter "t" to the word thinking that would exonerate me. No such luck - I was spanked!

Surprisingly, another forbidden word was "liar." We were never to call anyone that. 

I soon learned that it was a very serious offence to say "christ." This, despite the fact that the minister said that word repeatedly in church and sometimes shouted it. Yes, at times the grown-up world was difficult to understand.

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This is the statue of Largo-born Alexander Selkirk, the seafarer on whom Daniel Defoe based his character Robinson Crusoe. Selkirk spent four years as a castaway on an uninhabited island in the South Pacific.

Just before the war broke out our family spent a few summer holidays at Lower Largo and we children were fascinated by the 

statue. I don't know if it's still there; I know that a few years ago it had gone, but perhaps it had been removed for cleaning.

Despite the fact that Lower Largo was a fairly small resort, there was a concert party performing twice daily on the pier. The first year we were there, it was in the open air, but after that the shows were inside a large tent. Of course I was thrilled with them, and would have attended all the performances. When we were back home, I spent hours at the piano, pretending I was playing for the concert party.

At secondary school a big annual event was the dance and, in preparation for this, there were dancing lessons. I was usually given the job of pianist, with the result that I never really learned to dance satisfactorily.

The music for the dance was provided by a band made up of boys slightly older than I was. A few years later their pianist left and they asked me to join them. I suppose that they would probably have had no more than 4 or 5 engagements per year, but my parents said “No”. That was a great disappointment to me. Playing in a dance band was not quite respectable, it seemed!

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During the war there were many charity concerts locally in aid of the war effort, and very often I took part as accompanist. Most folk had to spend their holidays at home and during the Glasgow Fair Fortnight there was every type of entertainment in the parks or in the local halls, and I had a great time playing for them.

While in the RAF at Brize Norton I was able to enjoy my music to the full. Our small band, consisting of trumpet (Spencer Dunmore), guitar (Vic Hardingham), double bass (Pete Davis), drums (Ray Raynor), vocalist (Pete Munro) and me on piano, played regularly on the station and in nearby Carterton.

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THIS CONCLUDES THE SCRAPBLOG