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Dear Paul and
Joan
I’m going to tell you a story about when I was a nipper, there were five
children and two adults in my family. We all lived in a two apartment in
West Graham Street Glasgow. We had no where to play the roads were
dangerous as the motors and lorries would go up and down delivering to the
shops.
So we moved to West Campbell Street and my fourth wee brother was born we
thought, “great, out to play at last!” But no, the back court had rats!
So again inside. Then we moved to Blackhill. That was a five apartment
house and then my fifth wee brother was born so that was seven of a
family. Then we moved to Easterhouse. That was a five apartment as well
because the houses in Blackhill were to be demolished.
My dad was in the HLI for five years and five in the GSH, he was a cook
for the “sojers.” When he came out of the army he carried on his cooking.
When the shops had bread strikes he baked his own. When each of us got
married he made our wedding cakes. When there was bread available in the
shops we had a standing order each week for six loaves. We all took turns
in going up for it. I hated it when it was my turn because I felt so
embarrassed carrying all that bread. But when I tried to get out of it my
dad would say, “Naw if you don’t go - you won’t eat!”
Like most men, my dad liked a drink. One day he and my sister went
shopping in town. My dad wanted a pint so there was café next door to the
pub. He got my sister an ice cream and told her not to talk to anybody.
Time went on and he forgot all about her and went home.
My mum was very angry when she asked where my sister was. He had left her
in the café! So my brother above me had to go and bring her home and my
sister never ever went out with my dad ever again!
Margaret |
Webmaster replies
You paint the picture of your mother
questioning your dad very well. I can just imaging the look on your
dad's face when he realised what he had done. Ouch!
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