THE END OF CHILDHOOD

This is a blog I am not sure I should write but if I am to tell a story  it is part of it . I think for Dorothy and I the end ,or , at least the beginning of the end of childhood started when our father died. Dorothy was twelve and I was ten. Our mother had to go out to work to support us .She left ,before we were up, at 5 am and we did not see her till 8 pm so during the week we had to fend for ourselves.

Our father had been bedridden for some 4/5 years and in  & out of hospital .He died on a Saturday in 1952. I can't remember the month. I had gone by train to see him on my own the previous Tuesday. As I left the ward and turned to say farewell I did not appreciate that would be the last time I would see him. The next day I got belted at school for not doing my homework.

The day he died Dorothy & I were left alone in the flat as our mother had gone to the hospital with some  of my father's brothers. Somehow Dorothy and I got a message to say our father had died and we were to go to an Aunts house. It must have been a neighbour--we dint have a telephone.

Having my father's coffin in the flat overnight seemed a bit scary. The next day there was a short service in the flat taken by a local minister . Crammed in this small room were my father's brothers and fellow Masons .As was the custom women did not go to the graveside so I went with  all these men to the crematorium .I did not cry : it not have been manly.

At weekends our mother tried her best. There were numerous visit s to Kelvingrove Museum ; walks in the park and visits to relatives.

However , slowly but surely, almost by stealth , hardship crept in . Our fees were paid by the state so we did not have to change school. My mother got some hep from the Masons which ensured some sort of survival .

Mother's pay day was a Friday. By Thursday we would go hungry .If we dint have a shilling for the gas meter we would boil a kettle on an upturned electric fire .If the electricity got turned off we would light rolled op newspapers.

The radio died and that put an end to programmes like : Journey into Space , Top of the Form and Dick Barton Special Agent .

If you returned empty lemonade bottles you would get 0.5 p back .Six bottles would buy a bag of chips ' I also discovered that if you pressed button B in a public telephone kiosk you some times got money back.

I know that my greatest humiliation was ( aged 11/12 ). I was told by my teacher (Miss Mc Leod ) in front of a class of 40 that I was a disgrace to the school . A Glasgow newspaper , The Bulletin , visited the school and wanted to take pictures of my class in the gym. I was chosen because of my curly hair.The problem was I dint have plimsolls and wore ill fitting sandals .Also I dint have a school belt so had to hold up my trousers using my braces tied round my waist. A boy in my class, whose father worked for The Bulletin , brought these photographs to school --Hence the censure . I am sure that ever since I have had a fetish about having the right kit for the right occasion. Perhaps also of being wary of being photographed. That incident certainly knocked my confidence.

Dorothy and I developed our own coping strategies.  We never never invited anyone home and if there was a knock on the door we would switch off the lights and pretend we were not in.

I think over time I divided my life into boxes / compartments : School , Rugby , Cadets , Scouts, The Farm & Home. Things were OK in most of these boxes except home : I was ashamed of it .

Compared to many children round the World Dorothy and I were not that bad off . It is , however, relative to ones pear group that a child makes comparisons .

We had the passport to escape -education.