The Garngad Heritage
The unpublished work

Mr Locherty: Uddingston

Being a non resident in Garngad I'm the least qualified to comment.   My experience originally early in the 1920's, when as a young boy, was reluctantly dragged to visit relatives.  These were in Kilberry Street, Garngad Road and McCairn's pig farm in an area near Provanmill.

Near Castle Street there was a Co-op dairy and grocers.   Hygiene hadn't been invented because a knife which cut turnips, string etc., also sliced sausages, bacon and cheese.

My recollections could be authentic or hearsay.   Garngad like most places, had a local, worthy William Smart, pronounced Wully Smert was renowned.   Not quite the full shilling he managed to nurse his mother until she died.   He was never off the road.   Strangers asking directions were sent anywhere.   Once a lum on fire set excited Wully screaming "Bring caul watter, bring caul watter, hot watter'l no dae."

My grandparents Loherty, enhanced to Locherty owned an enormous grandfather clock.   Coming from the wilds of Ireland none of the family, except one who ran the nearby fruit shop could tell the time.  To achieve this, the massive clock was humphed down to the shop.

Rickets were rife and nobody ever heard of tuberculosis or cancer.   You simply said so and so were in poor health.

Very hot months melted tar in the cobbled streets penetrating toes of bare-footed children.   Margarine was a godsend.

McCairns lorry uplifted pigs food and offal from Barlinnie, the Royal and  Western Infirmary Duke Street Hospital etc.   On one occasion at Barlinnie the driver accepted an excellent bacon, sausage double egg breakfast etc.   Next Week, when expecting the same he was told "Surely you don't think we hang a man every week"?

Few people know that the very best and first MC for St. Roch's dancing was a Protestant.   About this time, St. Roch's had a cracking football team.  Absolutely super but their support wasn't.             A winning 2 - 0 visiting team at half time had clods of grass stuffed down their pants and dared not remove them until the final whistle.

Rather bewildering, folk risked blinding themselves drinking tea with spoon sticking out of the cup.   How daft?

Wully Smert was a professional mourner.   He attended all funerals.   Steak-pie gravy had his tie like a mirror.

Crafty children hit on a lucrative discovery.   A pub midden produced metal bottle tops.   A little improvisation and then squashed on the tram lines ideally worked chocolate and wrigley machines.

Unfortunately, bigotry prevailed.  Schoolchildren were accosted 'P' or 'C'.   Answering wrongly incurred a bashing.   Likewise at 14, job hunting, you were told by so-called firms or repute 'We'll let you know' after asking 'What school did you go to?

Garngad produced some excellent singers although developing one leg longer than the other. Tenements had outside communal toilets shared by several families.Door latches were often faulty. To prevent anyone barging in, the door was wedged by an ungainly outstretched leg.  Singing lustily indicated occupancy.   Hence the talent and limp.

Franciscans ran a two week mission.   The church packed to capacity had people standing outside on the steps.   Spotted by a missioner they were ordered, 'Come into hell out of there'.

Some owned a 5 foot galvanised bath filled by a couple of kettles.   With the door locked, gas in a peep and blinds drawn, a quick bath could be enjoyed in front of the fire.

A fearsome house factor called fortnightly bawling for all ears 'RENT RENT' then form the top flat even louder 'SPENT SPENT'.

In the 1920's a pokey hat and raspberry was a ha'penny.   Sent for sugar, I was instructed, 'Get salt for a farthing'.

A string of non-catholic visitors to St. Roch's I'm told were so engrossed staring upwards, caused hilarity, tumbling over someone genuflecting.

Older parishioners may remember the late Father Lawton, a holy terror if ever there was one. Rumour has it that Bishop Scanlan in a weak moment had him promoted to Canon.   There's the old story of him coming out the confessional to settle a noisy argument of who was next. 'I'm after the loud person who stole the umbrella' justified a man.

Old coal ranges had a hob, oven, ribs for toasting and an ash pan.   I recall my sister (Later a Good Shepherd Nun at Bishopton ) who'd a very shaky hand asking me 'Did you enjoy that fried egg because it fell in the ash pan?'

Although large families, the tale of a large toppled pram when half a dozen fell out is probably a fallacy.

Having left school, I became a St. Vincent Street message boy at 8 shillings a week. Given a  penny tram fare I'd take a bulky parcel to a Garngad shop.  I left this downstairs in the designated place and went upstairs.  Of course when I came down the thing was gone.  And so was my job.

A young woman asked Garngad Hill Convent when her ailing mother should be admitted.  'Sure now' explained an Irish voice, 'doesn't it depend how they die'.

Slot gas meters were in the lobby or, living in a tiled close 'the hall'   I have it in good authority the stringed penny originated in Garngad. Scoundrels!

A framed picture of the Rev. Ian Paisley has a caption 'to be hung in Larkhall....Does a parish priest envisage a miracle announcing 'On Wednesday there will be a night out for the housebound' ....  And the Aberdeen curate telling of the gas rig men being grilled by bosses.

A Donegal man says Father Armstrong held up a church full of people while waiting for a dignitary, and a parish magazine wants a scrutineer to check insertions for errors and must be fast and illiterate!   Apply Secretary c/o Chapel House.

Just before Mass, a man assisted an unsteady old woman up the stairs.   Several times in the aisle she almost went down.   Again the man rushed to help 'Going to manage? he asked.  'I'd manage much better' she snapped 'if you would let me genuflect'.

A curate abroad wrote home about the good weather 'I come out in freckles at the first hint of sin' ..... reports the Observer? 

Then there was the local Social Worker who spent several days in Hartwood Mental hospital and felt perfectly at home......   Says a newspaper?

A steadfast housekeeper told Father 'If you spend more time at the table instead of the pulpit you could improve your indigestion.  

A thief confessed stealing clothes.....  'Better pull your socks up' warned the priest

Spotting the priest's visit a very shy and embarrassed lad bolted into the freezing wash house.  To teach him a lesson the giggling family deliberately prolonged the visit.   For two hours they stretched conversation, showed photos, made tea. ...... Perhaps his reverence might phone before calling.

F. G. Locherty

24 Second Street

Uddingston G71 6AT