My History
I was born in 1935 in my Grandmother`s house at 8 Tennant Street. We moved to Wilkie Place sometime thereafter. My only memories of Wilkie Place were watching a `gas mantle` being lit and listening to the sound and sodgers guarding the Fort at the end of the street.. We then moved to Granton and lived near where the tram cars went under the bridge one at a time. (Wardie bridge with the single tram track running under it) I recall standing near Starbank Park and watching a dog fight between the Luftwaffe and the RAF. I was a round four at the time and these memories are very vague.
Later we moved to Burlington Street, just down Bonnington Road from Cables Wynd.
I attended Bonnington Road School from 1940 -1947. Then I went on to Leith Academy.
I left Scotland in 1951, moving to Windsor, Ontario, but soon lit out for Vancouver BC. I eventually moved to the States.
I enlisted in the USAF and ended up at KIrknewton RAF Station outside Edinburgh. In 1961 I left the USAF and returned to San Francisco. I went to work for the Federal Government, retiring in 1990 after 32 years` service.
In 1997 I returned to Scotland after a 36 year absence. I was in 7th heaven as I walked all over Edinburgh and Leith. However I was disappointed at some of the changes. I was unsuccessful in meeting any of my childhood pals. My plan of action was to go into every pub that I encountered in Leith. I would go in and order a half-pint and then ask "did anyone live in the block B; go to Bonnington Road School or Leith Academy?"
I failed to meet a connection but did meet some great folks.
Recollections
Lately I have begun to think of my younger days in Leith. I remember the War Years. Ration Books. Waiting in queues at the Store with the little thing that ran on a wire and brought you your change. (Overhead cables from each serving point that ran to a central cash point. Spring loaded little shuttles containing monies and cheques were projected along it by means of the customer assistant pulling down on a wooden handled chain)
Going to the Empire to see Big Bill Campbell and his Rocky Mountain Rhythm. Funny, but it seemed the sun shone all the time.
One memory that stayed with me for years was standing at Crown Place near Melrose`s Tea Store on Leith Walk and watching British POWs being bussed into Leith Station. The men had opened the sliding roof and were leaning out of the top of the bus waving at the cheering people who were throwing them candy and cigarettes.
I was puzzled for many years as to where these prisoners came from. In 1997 while talking to the bar tender at the Crown Bar I mentioned this incident. We asked a number of customers but no one could shed any light on the matter. In the interim I have determined it was the prisoners from the Altmark. (There were two instances of returning soldiers and seaman to Leith. The seamen were released from the captured Altmark. Soldiers were ex POWs that were repatriated as being unfit for active service)
As a youth I hung around Lannies. Went to the Assembly Rooms a few times and went dancing on Wednesday and Saturday nites at the YMCA on Fire Brigade Street (Junction Place to non-Leithers). After Saturday nite at the YMCA, it was on to Alberts for chips.
The State cinema was my favourite. To this day I can remember the smell of the perfumed air and the big red curtain. I played snooker upstairs a few times. Used to go to the Cappy club on Saturday mornings. Then perhaps the Palace in the afternoon and on occasion the State at nite. The Alhambra was the best for your money though. They sometimes ran three pictures.
22 July 2002
I have finally tracked down a friend from my childhood, Toto MacNaughton. I found he now plays in a band in Harrry`s Bar in Edinburgh on Saturday afternoons. I wrote to him c/o Harry`s and am looking forward to hearing from him.
I suddenly remembered a game we used to play as kids. We called it machine guns. The object of the game was to rush an imaginary gun nest and then see who died the best death (shades of John Wayne). I always liked being the machine gunner, otherwise one got skinned knees or other injuries.
Toto was always the one who died the `best` death. `Rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat` Toto would get hit by imaginary bullets - stop like he had hit a brick wall - do a couple of backward flops, jerk around, and the expire with a death gurgle. At that point I would then yell, " Hey Toto, I was aiming over your head." "You will have to do it over again". Wonder why they stopped asking me to play.
Well John, I have rambled on enough. Keep up the good work, and hope to see you here in SF some day.
Tom Wallace
