My memoir begins in 1953 and spans almost two a time when life was uncomplicated. There were only two television channels, and we communicated through cumbersome telephones in cold draughty hallways. We children unfettered by Health and Safety invented our own games and designed the props.At Lasswade Primary School we sang with an American music teacher about bees buzzing in peppermint trees, and Mr Horn, a missionary, screened an inappropriate film about leopards (or was it lepers). The past haunted my granny’s home. A railway station mysteriously burned to the ground. A peculiar cricket match took place on the playing fields of Lasswade High School. A starship failed to reach the stars, and there was Bob-a-Job mayhem. We danced with the Devil in the church vestry and danced to Glenn Miller’s big-band sound at a school Christmas party. During a bizarre Italian holiday, my brother and I escaped the talons of the signore of the night in Rome and watched a drive-in movie at an American military base near Naples. All this and more happened during my childhood and adolescence in the town of Bonnyrigg, near Edinburgh in Scotland.
With a deceptively light touch, author Sandy Wilson calls back memories of what life could be like for a young Scottish boy from a family of a bit more than modest means half-a century ago. In a multitude of concise anecdotes, he captures the pathos and joy, the uncertainty and the excitement, the humdrum and the extraordinary of a boy’s uninhibited yet tacitly regulated growth to manhood.
The author’s memories of a mostly happy, bygone childhood ring with nostalgia for those of us fortunate enough to have experienced a similar path towards adulthood in Scotland of the ’50s and ’60s.
I found this series of vignettes of life in Bonnyrigg and Lasswade in the 1950s and 1960s interesting and nostalgia-inducing.
I lived in nearby Polton for a while, attending both Lasswade Primary and Lasswade High schools. I remember all the teachers and some of the other people Sandy Wilson mentions, although I am slightly younger.
My perspective on both teachers and school is a little different, although we have some experiences in common, principally trips to Hadrian's Wall with the inspirational Richard Marjoribanks and the 1967 "Mikado" production with Alex Elrick in charge.
A ramble down memory lane which will have resonances for many of my generation.
Memory Spill is a time machine to a very specific time and place; one where the author is like an older brother divulging to you his long kept secrets. Full of keen observation, I imagine this book could feel like a warm reunion to folks who grew up in Bonnyrigg, a town near Edinburg during the 50s and 60s. And to those of us who didn't come up there or weren't yet alive, it's a fascinating glimpse into another world and time. I received a free copy of this book from a competition. Thank you.