A very warm welcome to guest blogger Steve who has been tracked down via a comment left on the site. Thanks for sharing your fascinating memories - next best thing to a time machine.
For years I have treasured my memories of dear old Govan and the people I grew up with there. I grew up in the bomb sites, back closes and dunny's that were the playgrounds of the day.
I am the eldest of twelve children, seven of whom are sisters and all of us lived in the single-end, one up in No 8 Burndyke Street. I started Copeland Road School in 1953 and went on to Govan High School after my "Qually".
My father's family came from Neptune St, so I grew up with a knowledge of history of local characters and events that were the subject of the very many Sunday gatherings at the Burndyke St single-end when some of the local men (my father included) would drown their sorrows with such notable libations as Lanliq, V.P, Melroso, Eldorado and other such fine wines, obtained "on tic" at twice the normal price from the local shebeen.
A part of this gathering on occasion was a much loved resident of Govan called Gandhi Sharp, who was a docker and to whom fell the dubious distinction of, when made redundant, bought and took delivery of his own coffin. This was discussed for many years afterwards and became almost folklore.
For those of you who are familiar with Govan, you will know that for many years there has been a pub on the corner of Burndyke St and Govan Rd called "The Bells".
The back close of No 8 Burndyke St had a couple of "middens" and a cut through to the back close of 571 Govan Rd. This was a much used shortcut for us kids going to the shops and on one such expedition I dropped a penny in the back close of 571. As I watched the precious coin roll away I was amazed to see it disappear down a crack between the large slate slabs that made up the floor of the close.
In tears I went home and reported my loss and the mysterious crack in the close to three or four of the Sunday drinkers who were there. I think someone may have given me another penny,and the matter was forgotten.
Two weeks later on a Sunday, someone lifted the slabs in the back close of 571 and emptied the cellar of The Bells which is where my beloved penny had gone. The results of this daring feat were the subject of many Sunday gatherings thereafter and for years I wondered if my penny loss had inadvertently led to the whole caper.
I am sitting at home in London over 50 years later and this memory comes back as if it were last week. I must try and do some work today so I will sign off and post some more Govan memories later.