Jean and I were married in Sandyford-Henderson Memorial Church in Glasgow.

It was when I started working at the church community centre in Glasgow that I met Jean. She was a member of that church, was leader of the Brownies and a frequent visitor to the centre.

Our friendship gradually developed and in the summer of 1953 we went on holiday together to Portsoy. Although we were guests in the local hotel, we were boarded out in a house a short distance away, Jean having a room upstairs while I was downstairs.

There was a piano in the hotel, and we always remember that one lady there, in her Aberdeenshire accent, would ask me to give them a “tunie.”

We became engaged in August of that year. 

My father is standing behind me; behind Jean is her father with my cousin John who was Best Man; Mary the Matron of Honour is standing with the little flower girl Jane a neice of Jean's; Jean's mother is on the left and my mother on the right.

Our wedding, which used the Church of Scotland form of marriage, was conducted by my uncle Rev George Hardie who was a Baptist. At that time he was the Secretary of the Baptist Union in Scotland.

The reception was held in a nearby hall, and, after the meal and the usual speeches, there was some dancing. Of course my side of the family were rather staid compared with Jean’s relatives. At the end of the evening they all went to her parents’ house, where they partied till the small hours.

When Jean and I left the hall, we went to Central Station where we joined the overnight sleeper to London Euston. From Paddington Station we took the train to Newton Abbot, north Devon, and there we spent the first part of our honeymoon.

Among other places, we visited Torquay, Paignton, Buckfast Abbey and had a sail on the River Dart.

One of the things we always remember is the bar of a hotel where 3 or 4 older men befriended us and entertained us with their songs. This was long before Karaoki!

And another thing that sticks in my mind is the fact that I suffered quite badly from hay fever for the whole fortnight!!!

When our time there was over, we returned to London for a week of sight-seeing. We stayed with the parents of Leonard Lewis, my friend from RAF Brize Norton. Some years earlier my own parents had acted as hosts to Mr and Mrs Lewis when they visited Scotland.  

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In 1890 my paternal grandparents would be looking forward to getting married the following year.

He was the engine driver of the colliery train which operated between the pit and the coal depots, and probably the canal basin.

My grandmother’s father was a carter who from time to time would be involved in transporting coal from the pit.

We have no actual details about the accident. All we know is that he was struck by the train driven by my grandfather and seriously injured. He was taken to the Royal Infirmary in Glasgow where he died.

I think this little photo of my grandparents was taken about 1935.

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IN RECENT WEEKS in this blog I’ve recalled girl friends from my dim and distant past.

There was one girl that I used to go to the pictures with, but I don’t think our friendship lasted very long. The only thing I really remember was that she worked in the office of the local bus company and that she gave me a free pass on the bus. This was very handy for I was a student travelling to Glasgow every day and there was no such thing as concession fares then.

Unfortunately, one particular bus conductress, who must have known the regulations and been suspicious of me, asked me who had given me the pass. When I told her, she took it from me, saying that they were only for relatives of the staff.

I don’t know why our affair ended - but I don’t think it had any thing to do with the bus pass!

There was one more girl before Jean came on the scene. I was playing the organ in a Glasgow church and she was in the choir. We found we had much in common and went to the cinema and concerts together.

I’m remembering that, with the girl friends I had, we would meet perhaps just twice or three times a week. And certainly I never for a moment thought that marriage would be the outcome. In fact, if I’m honest with myself, I must admit I was scared of the idea!!!!

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I LEFT THE YMCA in 1955. I quite enjoyed the work there, but I had begun to tire of the evening work and it was good to return to normal working hours.

My time with the huge Frederick Braby steel mills in Glasgow gave me some experience of general office work. The only thing memorable about this job was that I learned to play whist. Four of us used to have a game every lunchtime and this was the highlight of our day. Thinking back, I’m remembering that we didn’t play for money, and that was probably unusual.

From there I moved to a much smaller firm, a patent glazing company. In the general office there were 2 directors, the secretary, 3 men including myself, and 2 girls. There were 4 in the drawing office, and in the works there were between 12 and 20 men depending on how busy we were.

My last move came in 1964 when I joined what was then Kirkintilloch Burgh Council, later to become Strathkelvin District Council, later still East Dunbartonshire Council. My position was in the finance department and my work was varied. To begin with, things carried on smoothly, but, as time went on, changes in local government nationally complicated matters a good deal.

I was very fortunate in that for many years I was really my own boss, and so didn’t have the worries that other folk had.

I retired in 1989 but still have dreams where I’m back working in the office!!!

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DID YOU KNOW that church organists are not supposed to make any mistakes?

You can be a first-class player and carry on for two or three years without hitting a wrong note, but, if you do slip up, some know-all will come up to you after the service with “What happened in the last verse of the Old Hundredth?” Over the years I don’t think I made many mistakes - at least I can’t recall any specific occasion.

The commonest error for organists must surely be going on to play another verse after the hymn has finished. I remember being in the congregation one Sunday when this happened. The organist started again, stopped when she realised her mistake, - and the congregation all laughed!!! What a shame!

I always said that, if I found myself in that position, I would continue playing for a few bars and build up to a triumphant finish, just as if that was how the hymn was supposed to end. The secret of course is to follow the words as they are sung. This is not so easy if there is no choir, for it’s usually impossible to make out what the congregation are singing.

Any time I had to play in other churches, I always made sure I was given the opportunity to try out the organ beforehand. No two instruments are the same, and an 8ft flute on one can sound quite different from an 8ft flute on another.

I heard about a well-known Glasgow organist who was giving a recital on a newly installed instrument. On this organ the tremulant effect - sometimes very suitable for soft passages - was controlled by a little pedal, and so, when he came to the lovely quieter part of his first piece, he pressed - the wrong pedal, and brought on FULL ORGAN.

Playing at weddings in a different church was always a strain. The most important thing was to keep looking for the signal that the bride was ready to process down the aisle.

I remember one occasion when I was playing an organ in a little gallery, and I had to keep looking down below for the sign. When it was given I struck up what the bride had chosen - Purcell’s Trumpet Tune. I played it through once, no sign of the bride, I played it again, still no bride. I then began to improvise making up tunes of my own, getting louder as I went on. I’m sure the music was sounding more desperate by the minute. What a relief when she appeared!

I often dream I’m playing a church organ. The worst nightmare is when the minister announces the hymn number, and I open the hymn book to find that the hymns are not in numerical order. I wake up in a cold sweat!!! 

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A FEW WEEKS AGO I mentioned my first girl friend. We had a lot in common for she was a singer and I was a pianist, and we appeared together at two or three local concerts. Later she became a professional and performed in seaside concert parties.

While I was in the RAF at Brize Norton, I met a girl who lived in the nearby village and we became immediate friends. The reason again was - music. She played the piano, but there were two other things that drew us together - we both had the initials JJ, and the same birthday though I was a few years older. Obviously it was meant to be!!!!!!!

Her father had the local grocery and she worked in the ladies clothes shop next door. We got on very well together and it was a sad day when I was demobbed. I think we both knew that the affair had to end, and I certainly wasn’t ready for a serious relationship.

In this blog on 5th December I mentioned Bunny Shayler the comedian in the RAF concert party. He was a civilian worker on the station and lived with his wife in the village. They were very pleasant people and a good few years ago, when we were in that part of the country, we paid them a visit. At that time they had a very successful photography business, which sadly failed a few years later when the Americans left Brize Norton.

For quite a few years we exchanged greetings at Christmas, and Joy Shayler always sent us a card with a watercolour picture of flowers she herself had painted. Both she and Bunny are now dead.
 

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IN 1953 I resigned from my post at the church community centre to join the Glasgow YMCA as Youth Secretary. Their headquarters were in the city centre above a number of shops, with accommodation for boys and youths on the top floor, and seniors and offices on the first floor.

In the same building there was the Lyric Theatre owned by the YMCA, and at that time it was being rebuilt after a disastrous fire. The loss of the theatre had been a great blow to Glasgow for many amateur companies had found it ideal for their productions.

There were five full-time members of staff and a fair number of voluntary leaders. I worked four evenings and five mornings each week, and also on Sunday afternoons for a bible class meeting.

Each year the boys were taken camping for a week to Crail, and that gave me my first and only experience of living under canvas. Fortunately the weather was good and I really enjoyed it. Jean and a girl friend of one of the other leaders came also, and they stayed in a boarding house in Crail.

There were a number of influential men who took an interest in the YMCA, especially when funds were needed. I remember one business man gave a copy of “Pilgrim’s Progress” to every one of our boys. In those days this was considered an excellent gift, but I don't think many young people today would appreciate it. Some years ago I decided to re-read it, and I'm afraid I soon gave up.

One final memory. There was a little storeroom where games were kept. The single window which was painted over looked out on to the Pavilion Theatre across the road. The boys soon discovered that, where the paint had been scraped away, glimpses could often be had of the chorus girls in their dressing room!!!

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IT WAS TOWARDS THE END of the 19th century that four of my father’s uncles went to the USA with the idea of settling there. Two of them Robert and James decided to stay and within a few years their families had joined them.

Today there are Jaaps in different parts of America, and many of them are direct descendants of Robert and James.

Since we created the Jaap website, quite a few of our American cousins have contacted us from time to time, and one in particular sends me most interesting e-mails.

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