Reminiscences

CHRISTMAS often includes large slices of nostalgia, but looking back can serve to remind that many things do not change very much with the passage of time.

That thought kept recurring when I visited Helensburgh Library on Friday December 23 2011 to have a look at the Helensburgh Advertiser of 50 years ago.

The late Miss Maud L.MacLellan, OBE, TD, of Auchenault, Helensburgh, tells of the period during her wartime service with the Auxiliary Training Service when she commanded a centre where the then Princess, now Queen Elizabeth, learnt to drive.

A 14 year-old boy endured a night of horror when World War Two bombs fell on Cardross.

This is how James Retson recalled the evening of March 14 1941, the second night of the Clydebank Blitz . . .

ONCE upon a time I worked as a reporter on the Helensburgh Advertiser. While thus employed, it was often my duty to “do the calls”.

This meant checking, by telephone, with various police stations in the district before the paper went to bed. The editor had a weakness for bedtime stories, and it was my job to humour him.

THE train roared and panted its way through the tunnel at Dalreoch, the sulphurous smoke wreathing past the closed windows. Silent, and not a little apprehensive, I sat in the corner gazing out into the void.

"Will this never end?" I thought as a feeling of claustrophobia made me close my eyes. At last the engine noise changed perceptibly and opening my eyes again I saw a flicker of daylight.

WORLD War Two Prime Minister Winston Churchill and President Roosevelt had four major meetings in North America. Trips 1, 3 and 4 left from Faslane where Churchill's special train parked in the siding there. The second left from Stranraer.

Churchill left Faslane on the former LMS Glen Sannox-type fast turbine steamers, accompanied by his Chief of Staff.

IN the summer of 2008 a Helensburgh woman made the leap from an historic architectural home to an historic stately home.

Charlotte Rostek Davis, who ran the Hill House as property manager and curator for the last six years, was appointed curator at Dumfries House in East Ayrshire.

This article, the product of an interview with Hilda Whitelaw Purvis, was written by Helensburgh journalist Fiona Howard for inclusion in a special Civic Week supplement in the Helensburgh Advertiser on May 9 1975 to mark the passing of the Town Council in the reform of local government in Scotland.

HELENSBURGH at the start of the 20th century was an elegant place where life was simple and leisurely.

It was a mecca for artists, a retreat for Glasgow merchants, and a haven for folk looking for peace.

This article was written by Helensburgh shop owner Walter S.Bryden, former proprietor of the Helensburgh and Gareloch Times, for inclusion in a special Civic Week supplement in the Helensburgh Advertiser on May 9 1975 to mark the passing of the Town Council in the reform of local government in Scotland. Where necessary, up to date information is included in brackets in italics.

ONE of Helensburgh’s most beautiful spots is Hermitage Park — yet how many local people walk or drive past without ever venturing in.

Through the three gates on Sinclair Street, Victoria Road and Grant Street they will find a feast of flowers and shrubs, in fact a beauty which is only matched by its history.

This article was written by well known Helensburgh artist and author Gregor Ian Smith for inclusion in a special Civic Week supplement in the Helensburgh Advertiser on May 9 1975 to mark the passing of the Town Council in the reform of local government in Scotland. Where necessary, up to date information is included in brackets in italics.

FOR a resident of over fifty years changes in the Burgh have been substantial. For those approaching the seventy mark, innovations and developments have been overwhelming.

I recall my mother telling us how her great grandparents had complained about the growth of Helensburgh. They were watching the process from their croft — now obliterated by Low’s Supermarket (now Tesco), and weren’t altogether happy with what they saw.

This article is an excerpt from 'Birds of a Feather: A Wren's Memoirs, 1942-1945' by the late Patricia B.Farley, and tells of her life at Portkil, Kilcreggan, during the Second World War.

AT the beginning of World War two, the Royal Navy was considered to be the finest of its kind. It ruled the oceans, literally. But not under the seas.

The Germans had been masters of that area since the previous global struggle, World War One, and were intent on disabling their enemy's power by any means they could.

NOT many people can be described as ‘a one-off’, but that description certainly applied to Garelochhead playwright Tom Gallacher.

Tom was very particular that it was Gallacher with a ‘c’ and not a ‘g’, but then Tom was a very particular man and he had very special talents. Let me give you a flavour . . .