Sunday October 24, 2004 – A Weekend Reminiscence

Sunday October 24, 2004 – A Weekend Reminiscence

Last Friday, during lunch, I decided to do a Yahoo search on the word Carmyle, the name of a suburb of Glasgow, Scotland. My wife “I” was born and raised there and I was curious about its history. The small village lies on the north bank of the River Clyde, 4 miles (7 km) south east of Glasgow's city centre (British spelling). In the 13th Century the Bishops of Glasgow established meal mills nearby and the village developed as a result. In 1761, a muslin factory built in the area caused the village to grow. In 1780, the discovery of ironstone in the area saw the founding of iron smelting works and in 1829 the Clyde Ironworks was the first to use the hot blast process invented by James Neilson.

I sent the description of the town to my wife “I” in an e-mail and she has spent some time this weekend searching exploring the other links that crop up when the search term “Carmyle” is entered into a web search engine. Her first stop was the site of the Carmyle Bowling Club, which contains a list of members who have distinguished themselves in competition. She recognized a number of the names listed. The club claims the land where it now resides and had used for lawn bowling and angling since 1904. It was in 1960 that a proper building with a licensed bar replaced the makeshift shelters and huts used up until then.

She next found a link with a map of the area and I listened as she described how she walked from home to St Joseph’s Catholic School each day. The school was located underneath St Joseph’s Church and the teachers were an assortment of characters that anyone would recognize from a Monte Python skit. The headmistress was a tall imposing woman who had the build and demeanor of an Army Sergeant Major. Each morning she and her classmates would arrive at school and play until the school day began, boys on one side of the school in their area and girls on the other side in theirs. No one was allowed into the school until the day began. And it began with the janitor’s loud whistle.

As soon as the sound rang out, girls and boys would form lines (queues) according to their classes in school. Absolutely no talking was permitted and the headmaster on the boys’ side and the headmistress on the girls’ enforced the rule. When the signal was given all the lines would file into school and into their respectively classrooms. To hear my wife tell the story, the teachers were there to inflict learning and punishment in somewhat equal measure. There were the teachers who were into personal contact and you might expect a slap up side the head for errant behavior or not being in possession of the correct answer. Others meted out punishment with a strap across an outstretched hand. Of course none of this corporal punishment ever got mentioned at home. This is not to imply that the school was a sadistic nightmare, but rather education with an edge.

She discovered another site, which contained some pictures taken of classes that came after her. She recognized some of the young faces in the photo, most smiling at the camera expectantly. The boys were dressed in short pants and shirts, some having sweaters, others without. The girls all wore short sleeve dresses some with sweaters, others without. All of these young faces looking out from the screen are now grown adults decades removed from their younger selves captured for a moment some time in the distant past. Their celluloid image pulled from some drawer or photo album, digitized and posted for access the world over.

“I” ended her Yahoo search on one of those UK-based classmate sites, which happened to have alumni of St Joseph’s school listed. As she read down the list a few names she hadn’t seen in many years flashed out from the screen. Needless to say “I” completed a profile and posted it on the site. In it she recited all the teachers at the school she remembered and the names of a few close classmates.

All in all, it was a pleasant reminiscence for a rainy October weekend.