NEEEP!-Bonus Post From Douglas Blades On Bus Crash At Oxgangs!

Peter,

Looked at BLOG tonight. Front page was Aug 2012 and mentioning the bus which toppled over. It was Leyand PD3 with Alexander body and reg ASC 655B. Here’s a photo of it on another service on the front cover of Buses magazine.

I'm fairly certain (and George Upstairs has confirmed so) that this is off the ECT Leyland PD3/6 Alexanders double deck 655 (ASC 655B) bus that came a cropper at Oxgangs on Wednesday June 18 1975 when it fell over one day and was subsequently scrapped. I have memories of finding the hulk in Shrubhill Works and managing to acquire this. Mind you someone with a fleet body list for Edinburgh should be able to verify it. The serial number is E/1/3463/5. Alexanders were for many years in the 1960s to the 1980s the coach-builder of choice for Edinburgh-based up the road in Falkirk they are of course, still in business.

As for the accident I have the Edinburgh Evening News for the day-and nine were hurt in the accident-a lorry hit the bus as it turned right from Oxgangs Road North and Oxgangs Avenue.

From George Upstairs: So you're right Mike. Also, see the beast itself.

Comment From Circle1939: It wasn't actually the accident which resulted in 655 being scrapped. The crane sent out to get the bus managed to distort its offside doing so and that was enough to put 655 off the road for good.

I have two angles on the bus story. Our father, Charles Blades, was shaving at the side window in the large bedroom and that window looked out towards the junction – I wasn't in at the time but the story was related later – when he  exclaimed to our mother, Helen, that bus is toppling over – or words to that effect!

I think I was away to work at the Transport Dept by the time it happened but Mike Ashworth is correct, they did make a mess of getting it back up again so it had to be written off. I too visited the remains in Shrubhill after the event. The engineers had coincidentally just been considering having an exercise in raising a toppled decker when this happened. Normally they would bolt a large iron upright bar to the two upper hubs and perhaps drive a couple of large metal pins against the wheels on the ground to stop the thing slipping. Well, whatever they did they couldn't raise it hence the crane and infliction of terminal damage!

And as you can see from above – someone managed to retain the body plate a souvenir!

Douglas

The Elephant In The Room-A Response to Liz Blades

Liz, thanks for your interesting comments re: The Andrew Duncan Clinic and associated experiences. It will be interesting to hear if my mother elaborates further. Her memory is excellent and also the overall experience is so ingrained.

Out-with the general principle of trying to be truthful I am unclear about my own motivation for being so open about my father. The subject of alcoholism is not something which I have ever really spoken about amongst friends or colleagues at all. However, when Fiona Blades and I have met up we've been able to be quite open-there's been no embarrassment discussing our fathers’ illness. Yet, if others stray across the blog on the Internet they'll be totally surprised. And, if I clearly thought through the implications for a wide range of stakeholders, including grandchildren and great grandchildren, I perhaps would not have gone there. That said, any story needs to be balanced-the bitter and the sweet; the good and the bad; and the ups and the downs of life.

Similarly, I have a specific vignette which I have been wrestling with for a while now. It is about a school-teacher at Hunters Tryst who was a war hero, but with whom I had a difficult experience and mixed relationship. I want it to be balanced, but honest too. Yet I'm conscious some of the teacher’s relatives may still be alive.

All that you say of the Blades' family's experience with Charles, we at 6/2 could empathise with and identify with. Looking back, if we had only all been more open with each other as kids, it may have lessened the burden-even removed it a lot earlier. However, Helen and Mother were open with each other, especially considering the existing mores and values at the time.

It's understandable why it was kept secretive, particularly when you are living cheek by jowl within the confines of a small community, amongst eight families in The Stair. To understand our reasons perhaps begins with what motivates people-acceptance and the need for approval; the avoidance of rejection; status and the need for social prestige; and also the era in which it took place.

For example, I hated the embarrassment. I might have some pals in the house and totally out of the blue my father arrived home drunk and unnaturally good natured and effusive. I'd try to usher my friends out of the house quickly before they might notice. The down side was his mood would then transform from Dr Jekyll to Mr Hyde. I would thereafter be on the end of some sarcastic cutting remarks and vicious looks which would then, more often than not, move beyond mental abuse. Another embarrassing incident was him coming into the classroom at Hunters Tryst Primary School to ask for the house key. He resembled a down and out and was drunk. His breeks were held up with a piece of string. I'm actually laughing at that particular memory, but it wisnae funny at the time.

Like 6/6 we didn't really see him drinking at home at all. It was hidden from view. Ditto on the bottles too; on one occasion I couldn't sleep properly because a bottle of vodka had been planked under my pillow, but I was too scared to mention it.

I'm unaware whether other families in The Stair knew that Charles and Ken were alcoholics. My impression is that it was kept quite well hidden, but perhaps I'm being a little naïve. Looking back I don't recall either being on the end of any social disdain or receiving any social empathy. I always felt I had a special relationship with Helen, so perhaps there's an inherent contradiction there, but I'm only surmising. Undoubtedly it was our mothers who suffered most.

Last, perhaps there has been a subconscious motivation to talk about the elephant in the room. In the decades since, as a family, we've occasionally spoken about the subject but usually tempering it with humour, which is a positive thing. Up until now my own approach has been to park the issue in the past and move on. After all, what else can you do? And yet, without being dramatic, I am aware that the whole experience at the time really was quite horrendous and undoubtedly has left its mark-both in a negative way, but also in a positive way too, in terms of trying to learn from the past and as a parent avoid making such mistakes in the here and now.

That's quite a heavy blog, especially with-oot many pictures-more like a sermon and not what I'd planned-just as well it's a Sunday!

Charles; Ken; and Magwitch!

A bit like my extended response to David Lines, I realised once again, that this was going to be far too long a response for a comment-so here goes, a blog instead!

Hi Liz-nice to hear from you once again-it is a rather lovely, if poignant thought about Helen-she would have been perfectly suited to Oz, not only because of the sun, but because she was such a hard worker and such an engaging and outgoing personality-she would have positively thrived there!

It was at Helen's funeral that many of us last met up. I note from my diary of Tuesday, 24 October, 1978... We all went to Helen Blades' funeral service at Charlotte Chapel and after the burial we went to Liz's house for a tea. Very sad circumstances, but it was lovely to see Douglas and all the girls again, reminding me of many happy old times...

Helen Blades cleaning The Stair-An appropriate photo given she rarely stopped working-but still smiling!
(Photograph by Douglas Blades)

I met Douglas for an hour earlier this evening (he looks very well you will be glad to hear!) and although we were flitting around a vast number of topics (goodness knows what the waitress thought, especially my Robert Bond, (2/8) story!), his and my  memories of Charles and Ken coincide. It is very sad for all involved because both the fathers and children were losers, not to mention the wives too.

Anne Hoffmann is a fount of stories and was very friendly and terribly fond of Helen; you're right, I think she and Helen were a mutual support group. Whilst, she had an ambivalent relationship with Charles, partly because he wasn't pleased when Anne had to intervene and support Helen on one difficult occasion, she did like Charles. They used to sit beside each other on the number 4 bus in the morning travelling to work.

I had forgotten about Lady Blades' car, but I now have a vague memory of it-what an extraordinary juxtaposition! I wonder if I offered to look after it for a couple of bob to prevent the wheels being removed! There would certainly have been no trouble parking it as cars were as scarce as hens' teeth!

When Ken was drinking it really was a nightmare-quite frightening for a child-there are endless tales! Unfortunately, he seemed to take against me and I often took the brunt of it-I've still got the mental scars if not the physical ones!

Ironically, whilst his behaviour was understandable when he was on the bottle, what is less understandable is how he behaved when he was sober. For much of the time, his was a brooding, grumpy, disputatious and menacing presence. He took no pleasure or interest in having two sons, but did have a warmer relationship with my sister Anne. That said, I loved to sit and listen to him and my mother, Anne Hoffmann, converse over our Sunday breakfast of tea and rolls-their conversation was of a really high quality punctuated with many laughs!

He did battle his alcoholism hard by attending AA at The Rooms at Cockburn Street for years and years. I have occasionally tried to understand Ken through vividly re-imagining  his upbringing (a phenomenological approach?)  at 14 Dean Park Street, Stockbridge in the late 1920s and 1930s and with the type of parents that he had.

That gives me certain clues, in that he was certainly a child of his times; but whilst it partly explains who he was, ultimately, if you are an intelligent and reflective individual, it is probably not enough of an excuse. As a husband and father he failed to get to grips to try to overcome particular personality traits and weaknesses. And, whilst Dr Spock manuals on rearing children weren't exactly dotted around, I don't think he ever gave his demeanour and behaviour much thought-for example I don't recall receiving any real praise from him-it was the stick rather than the carrot!

A Rare Outing to Edinburgh Zoo
Iain; Ken; Anne; and Peter Hoffmann (circa 1964)

I'm sorry that your memories are not better. I/we at least had the consolation of getting on better with Ken in later years after my parents had divorced on my 15th birthday in 1971! I would often bump into him on early autumn afternoons at Boroughmuir rugby matches at Meggetland and later on when I stayed at Colinton Village in the late 1980s/1990s he used to sneak round to join the whole extended family for Chinese Carry Outs/Trivial Pursuits evenings which were very happy occasions-by then he was able to enjoy and appreciate us all-even my grandmother! By then I think he probably had many regrets on how life might have been.

Although I bore the brunt of his wrath I have only ever felt warmly toward him after he left home. I intend to do some future blogs on the topic of foreign letters-(it was you and Fifi! who introduced me to a New York pen pal!)-I am lucky to have a dozen or so letters from Ken from  throughout the world from 1971 to around 1980-I have not looked at them for years but when I did a decade ago I was completely, but pleasantly surprised to see he did actually care for me, and in his way tried looking after me from afar, Magwitch style, with some well meaning advice.

And, because he was so keen on sport I think it came as a pleasant surprise to him that I had done something-there is a 1976 telegram addressed to the Olympic Village, Montreal-he heard of my selection on the BBC World Service whilst on board a ship off the coast of South Africa; also, I was incredibly surprised to see he had watched an 1978 Edmonton Commonwealth Games semi-final whilst in a pub in Oz!

A last and very late memory of him from just before he died over twenty years ago-we were down at Meggetland-Iain and me, plus his son Roddy (from his second marriage)-he was treating the three of us to a Boroughmuir Rugby jersey-we had to hang around for quarter of an hour before they handed them out to us-despite his poor health the four of us passed the time by throwing and passing a rugby ball to one another-it was great fun with much laughter and leg pulling-extraordinarily it was something we had never done as children-I think he knew in that moment what he had missed-for me it's an abiding memory and drew a veil over much that had gone before.

Apart from his Boroughmuir tie, the jersey is all I inherited from him-it's worn so well that my son, Will wears it today. Whilst it may be a perverse observation I sometimes reflect on the fantastic legacy which he left me, for when I had two sons of my own, I knew exactly how I wanted to bring them up and how I wanted to spend as much time with them as possible before they would come to fly the nest!

ps Check out a rather lovely track, My Old Man by Steve Goodman!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GW7xR7WkyTU&feature=share&list=PLDB7718CBFA7443FF

Comment From Liz Blades: Peter, thank you for your extended comments. I was amazed to read that you all came back to my house after mummy's funeral. At first I didn't even recall that I did that, and I'm sorry that I do not remember you being there. The mind does strange things when you are under stress. 
I'm afraid mummy hated that photo of her cleaning the stair. She was embarrassed to be photographed in those particular circumstances. She would be appalled to know that it is now on the world wide web for all and sundry to view! But you can see that grin on her face all the same :)
Love the photo of you and Douglas and glad to hear it was a happy reunion.
It occurred to me that Charles and Ken grew up almost within a stone's throw of one another. I wonder if they ever encountered one another before Oxgangs? Charles grew up in India Street just around the corner from Stockbridge. Liz Blades

Response: Sorry about that Liz-it would be nice to access a better photo of Helen. I had forgotten too-I have very detailed diaries going back over forty years ago, although I have not really referred to them for the blog. Douglas too had forgotten we were at the funeral. After seeing your interesting comments last night I took the 1978 diary off the bookshelf-there is more in there. I was supposed to be in Dundee that morning for something important, but turned the car back at the Maybury Roundabout! Something I discovered fairly recently from Anne Hoffmann was that my Nana Hoffmann was the housekeeper for Lord Aitchison who was a contemporary to Lord Blades-I very much like the paintings by his artist son the late Craigie Aitchison-I enjoyed an exhibition at a recent Edinburgh Festival. I was really quite excited about meeting Douglas yesterday-although I mixed with a wide variety of the kids I always really liked and looked up to Douglas-not just because he was the oldest child at The Stair, but because he was such an interesting character-whether with his collection of records; his call-sign; his interest in transport; and the way he worked very hard-not to say he was a saint of course, because when I needed it he very occasionally told me off too! NEEEP! Peter Hoffmann

Never Had It So Good?

(Daily Mirror cartoon)

In the 1950s the Prime Minister, Harold Macmillan, told the electorate  that they had never had it so good. His comments will have been partly based on the progress made in implementing the Beveridge report and tackling the five evils of want; ignorance; disease; squalor; and idleness. Clearly the young families who moved into the newly built 6 Oxgangs Avenue from 1958 were direct beneficiaries of what men had gone to war for and the new vision of a country fit for them to live in afterwards.

Generally the families at number 6 (always referred to by us as The Stair)  lived in harmony. Yes, there was occasional friction, but it was very mild and occasional - all the families were good neighbours. The culture was a happy one which probably reflected the optimism of the 1960s. 

Compared to the housing which had existed a decade before the new housing schemes were great places to live and bring up young families - modern flats; indoor loos; open coal fires. Children played safely. There were formal playgrounds, sports pitches and tennis courts; adventures were on the near doorstep to Redford Burn, the army polo field and Braidburn Valley. 

(Braid-Burn Valley looking NW toward open air theatre) MJ Richards Licenced for reuse Creative Commons Licence

There was Dr Motley's surgery and Mr Russell the dentist. There was a new school with the beautiful title of Hunters Tryst set in lovely spacious grounds that had large playgrounds, its own small wood and large sports pitches.

It was a period of stability. 

Families were generally happy with mums and dads, despite the daily grind, enjoying the novelty of parenthood. Women were the home-makers - men were the breadwinners - access to employment was relatively easy. No one was well off as each household would be described as working class e.g. no-one owned a car, however people weren't desperately poor even if Family Allowance made the difference between eating or not. 

The Stair has reflected the changing decades. If the 1970s were about strife, then some of the new inhabitants were not as neighbourly. The 1980s of Thatcher led to families buying their own houses. The 1990s were a period of growth and better wages and no doubt those now at number 6 will have enjoyed foreign holidays and car ownership. The Noughties and the impact of the recession could be seen when I paid a visit last month to Oxgangs, where The Stair was looking a little neglected.

As mentioned Dougal (6/1) worked as a shop assistant at Aitkenhead's Grocery shop and then as a stock-keeper at Brown Brothers Engineering Company. As for my father Ken - well my mother Anne gave up counting at thirty the number of jobs that he had been in - assistant cinema manager; stock clerk; lorry driver for Bain's delivering meat to butchers shops in Edinburgh and the Borders; long distance driver for John Bryce; he had however also been a Chief Officer in the merchant navy, training at the renowned Edinburgh company Ben Line - his qualification was probably the equivalent of a degree in physics or maths, but those were before the days of NVQs, so he found he could not use transferable management skills to gain better employment. The other issue was that being an alcoholic made it difficult for him to hold down a job for any length of time. 

Ben Cruachan 1946

Mr Stewart (6/3) was a policeman and like many others in this line of work he kept a complete distance from any other neighbour in The Stair. 

George Hogg (6/4) was a joiner. He was part of a cooperative of skilled tradesmen who built their own houses toward Oxgangs Green. In later years Eric Smith (6/5) worked as a general helper at Marks and Spencer which was a secure job. Charles Blades (6/6) worked for many years at Ferranti's where he was a Personal Assistant to Basil de Ferranti. 

He regularly accompanied him to meetings in London. Charles had initially trained as a doctor, but late on in the course dropped out. Like my father Ken he was an alcoholic which prevented him reaching his full potential and also blighting others' lives too. Dougal, Ken and Charles were clearly bright individuals - Charles' father Daniel was Lord Blades, the respected judge and Solicitor General for Scotland. 

Charlie Hanlon (6/7) worked for many years at the Uniroyal Rubber Mill which superseded the North British Company - a secure job for many years. He worked shifts - sometimes Hilda would hang out the top floor sitting room window and chastise the kids for being too loud and 'keeping my Charlie awake when he's on the night-shift'. I liked the way he brought home a 'Friday Treat' of chocolate bars for Michael, Boo-Boo, Colin and Alan - if you'll forgive the pun, it was a very sweet thing to do.

Workers leaving rubber mill at Fountainbridge after a shift (Edinburgh Evening News)

Mr Duffy was a general labourer and scaffy in later years; previously he may have worked elsewhere but that change may have been brought on when he perhaps lost his driving licence?

Comment From Will Hoffmann: Interesting as usual but it would perhaps be better served as the very first blog entry as it sort of sets the scene and introduces the 'characters'? 

Response: 'Thanks for dipping your toe in the water Will. I'll have to come up with a small reward as you're the first person to comment.Did you recognise old Fountainbridge - 007's old haunt and close to your beloved Zizi's? It's a useful comment because it's forced me to articulate what was only in my 'mind's eye'! I think you're right - it could have been used as an initial blog, but equally, given the motivation and impetus for the blog is a valid approach too. Early posts do need to set the context and the characters. However, I don't want to follow an academic or chronological approach, although some of it will be the latter. Instead I want to go for something which is more free flowing, whilst having a certain shape in mind. I thought Shell-Shocked for example is a very powerful piece which allowed me to present two main characters, Fiona and Peter (me) in a situation interfacing with an old man who was an interesting character. Rather than describing us, it gave me the opportunity to show our behaviour allowing you to form an opinion of us and our personalities and also an important aspect of day to day life at the time. Some posts will occur to me by accident, others will flow from one post to another e.g. meals, crockery and Buchan's Pottery! There are endless little diversions that could be followed. I've devoted a post to 6/1, The Swansons - clearly I intend to work my way through each family all the way to 6/8, The Duffy's, but I want to intersperse these posts with stories and events that will hopefully be of interest and over a period of time allow readers to see the characters evolve, grow and develop in 1960s Edinburgh-a bit like a TV soap opera!' 

The Gap in the Curtain

Polygon Press 2012 edition

Living at Oxgangs is quite clear in my memory and vivid in my mind; as the cliché goes, it seems only like yesterday; however it is actually forty years since I lived there and of course some of this blog goes back fifty years ago-half a century.Because it remains in one's mind's eye and the houses remain, in a strange way, one thinks that world still exists-that one only need step through the gap in the curtain and the families and that day to day life continues to exist and that one can pick up and revert to that former way of life. However, the reality is quite different; it's later than one thinks, when one reflects on the number of mums and dads and others who headed up each household who are now dead. My father Ken Hoffmann; Molly and Dougal Swanson; Mr and Mrs Stewart; Helen and Charles Blades; and Charlie Hanlon are all individuals who I'm aware of.

In wanting to capture a flavour of that time this is certainly my story, but it may be interesting to see where the story goes especially if others contribute their stories-their memories and also to comment on the daily blogs. It’s my interpretation of life at 6 Oxgangs Avenue, the day to day, month to month, season to season and year to year life seen through the eyes of a child, a boy and then a youth, but reinterpreted through the prism of a man of fifty six years of age. 

I know from the afore-mentioned occasional exchanges between my mother, sister and brother that we will spark off one another recalling things from the past that we had either forgotten or thought we had forgotten or be given a different perspective or a surprising twist, sometimes quite different from how I had perhaps seen or viewed an individual or an event.