Red Road Stories
Volume 1
Photo Š George Logan
T
Photo Š www.chrisleslie.com
he following stories were submitted online via the Red Road Project website from April 2009 to February 2010. Developed by Glasgow Housing Association and Culture and Sport Glasgow, the Red Road Project is a unique range of historical and arts based programmes that will invite previous and current residents of Red Road, and the surrounding neighbourhoods, to commemorate and mark the demolition of the Red Road Flats and the end of an era for Glasgow. If you would like to add your story to the Red Road Project please visit the website at www.redroadflats.org.uk
A Childhood Spent in the Shadow of the Beast
Photo Š Harry Hood, courtesy of Mitchell Library
By Dr. Joe Murray
A
s a small boy, born in Birnie Road in Barmulloch in the early 1950s, my view of the world was a relatively open one. In front of our post-war brick-built tenements was a large swathe of old farmland which stretched from Robroyston Road in the east to Broomfield Road in the west. Beyond this field to the south was a large steam railway shunting yard which backed onto Broomfield Road. This was a heavenly view for a wee boy as it had a massive turntable on which I could watch even the largest of steam locomotives being slowly turned round and sent off to distant places. Beyond the shunting yard next to St Roch’s Juniors football ground was a chemical or dye works from which blue men used to emerge onto Royston Road.
Over the old drystane dyke lining Broomfield Road and stretching to Petershill Road and Red Road was a large piece of wasteland. From as early as I can remember the Fairground or “Shows” would come to that wasteland during the summer with large colourful trucks and caravans – I can’t hear Bobby Darrin’s “Things” without a flood of memories of those times – flashing lights, the roar of generators, loud music and the smell of candyfloss, Teddy Boys, Drainpipes, Suede Shoes, and bikers in leathers and those oily rocker haircuts. My earliest pals in Birnie Road were Peter Douglas and his wee brother Davie who
photo - Red Road Flats - Licensor www.scran.ac.uk
eventually moved away; then Derek Matthews and later Jim Arnott and Alex Shearer moved into the street. They were the best pals any boy could have asked for while growing up. Sure, we had our arguments and fights, but they never lasted – we remained pals till our late teens when I moved away and eventually lost touch. Even though Barmulloch was a relatively new “Scheme”, near the end of our street was the remnant of an old country lane which shortcut to Broomfield Road. It was partially metalled and was lined with, I think, Hawthorn, and I used to love it there as you could hide in the undergrowth and it felt like all the houses and roads were a distant memory. One day, I am sure it was in the summer of 1963, but history argues it was ’64, an absolutely huge yellow earth moving machine drove onto the field and tore up the “country lane”. It proceeded to gouge huge chunks of earth from all around that part of the field which lay between the corner of our street, Ryehill
Road and Broomfield Road. It dragged it all to the front of our tenements thereby creating a rather large and child-friendly hill (which was still there 15 years later.) All of this, it turned out, was the groundbreaking for the construction of the now infamous Red Road Flats (RRF). I was quite fascinated by this massive machine as it took no time at all in levelling a huge area to the flatness of a snooker table – what skill! Within days this area was surrounded by a 7-foot high wooden barricade. The same thing happened on the wasteland – no more “shows” for us. It was around about this time that the steam locomotives began to disappear from the shunt yard, and the rails and signalling were removed from the railway cuttings – Dr. Beeching’s cuts were beginning to bite. I watched daily as the internal steel frames of these huge skyscrapers climbed swiftly to the
clouds; while new shiny diesel engines replaced the locos in the yard – these large engines had drivers’ cabins at each end so the huge turntable fell into disuse. Motorways were being built, the brand new Forth Road Bridge was opened; a new breed of car was being parked along Birnie Road: Hillman Imps; Ford Cortinas; a Singer Gazelle – no longer the dark old fashioned and wood-panelled monstrosities of previous years. It seemed modernity had come to Scotland sweeping the old and outdated before it – Hollywood’s American dream and Century 21 were upon us – Fireball XL5 and the space age were a reality! – for a young lad they were truly exciting times. It is safe to say, my world outlook became the colour of Red Oxide paint – for that is the colour of the steel girders that made the frames of the structure being built at the end of my street; so too the huge slab block on Broomfield Road which began to blot out a large portion of my horizon. However, the constant noises of construction and watching the steel being lifted by the huge tower cranes were quite exhilarating. From my living room window, on the street outside, even from my classroom in St Martha’s Primary in Balornock always the movement of construction; the steel, the shuttering; large pieces of the façade – the biggest Meccano set on Earth. During a night in January 1968, as construction of the RRF neared completion, I was listening to the strongest winds I had even known batter my bedroom window. The noises of things clattering around the tenements were quite frightening. In the morning when I looked out my bedroom window slates from the houses on Cardow Road were scattered over the back yards and one or two windows were broken with curtains flapping like flags of surrender. When I looked out of my living-room window at the front of the house the sight was almost apocalyptic. There were huge lumps of steel shuttering in the field between the old railway lines blown from the slab block on Broomfield Road. There were other large pieces of construction debris, but worst of all a large steel cradle that had been hanging from the Block on what is now
The following year the flats where opened and people moved in. My friend, the lovely Frances Hyndland, moved in to the flat on the 14th floor, later to be occupied by another friend, Brian – the houses were, by any standards, very comfortable. A family friend, John Kerr, took one of the flats on the top floor of Birnie Court. I remember standing in his home on a windy night feeling the building slightly swaying, it was the strangest sensation: “it needs tae dae that son, or the buildin’ll fa doon!”. You could see Ben Lomond from his window; I remember being amazed at how close it was. What became of the Red Road Flats has now passed into history. The whole area began to change from 1969, but then, maybe it didn’t, maybe it was never a great place to live; the young see the world differently from adults. I left Barmulloch in 1973, eventually got married, had kids and lost touch with all of my childhood friends. Only a few days ago the early evening news reported that the RRF are to be euthanized. When I heard it I felt a slight pang of regret, like finding out on old neighbour from the past had become terminally ill and was about to die. I had witnessed the ground being broken and flattened to accommodate these huge structures; I watched, amazed and excited as steel-fixers shimmied up or walked along steel girders hundreds of feet up; I watched the lorries come and go; many of the men who worked on the site rush to the Broomfield Tavern to “get full of it” on paydays; the large “Redpath and Brown” banners that hung from the tower cranes. I feel a curious need to go and watch them razed to the ground at the touch of the demolition man’s (or woman’s) finger. I wonder how I will feel watching a huge structure that took five years to go up take five seconds to come down. Will I think of all the fun I had with my pals Derek, Jim, Alex, Peter and Davie playing allevio; hide and seek; kick the can; cowboys, soldiers and war games; all the heroes I ever imagined I was. Will I reflect on the time we tied our captive, John Hendry, to a pole and “torturing” him by making him eat the custard we had just made that tasted awful; of the countless games of football we played – all in the shadow of these partially constructed skyscrapers.
Right now I am thinking of the source of sweetie money we had by collecting “ginger bottles” at the construction site gates, and the day we ran non-stop from the ground to the very top floor of Birnie Court and then all the way back down again. Oh, and of the day I had my first erotic encounter on the stairwell of the fourth floor of the same tower block with a wonderfully gorgeous young woman, whom I had fancied for ages and who shall remain nameless. Or, will I think of those who thought it was okay to pile almost 5,000 people into such a small area while, once again, lacking the wit and imagination to supply them with the necessary amenities on which communities rely to have any sort of meaningful existence. Yes, maybe I will think of them and be glad that, at the press of a button, their time will have passed. I can only hope those who are in power now have learned from their mistakes. Red Road Flats … RIP!
photo © www.chrisleslie.com
Birnie Court had been blown out from the building by the high winds then driven back with great force and was now embedded in the side of the building on the 14th floor – what a sight!
M
y mother and grandmother moved into the Red Road Flats when I was 2 years old in June 1968. We moved into the 93 block and stayed in 10/3 and granny stayed opposite us in 10/1, but sadly I don’t remember moving there. But as I grew up my memories of the flats are brilliant. Each block was like its own wee community. In those days we had a caretaker (none of the concierges that we had later on). During the summer most of the parents from my block would be out playing with the kids whether it be skipping ropes, chases, water flights, British bull dogs or whatever. We would all be out there until it got dark. At the time the bottom of the blocks had four sheds if you like and there was a kind of water pipe in at least two of these sheds that we would fill out bottles, cups, cans or whatever we could lay our hands on to fill up and then throw over each other. All us kids would end up soaking from head to toes most summers. And we would climb up on top of the garages, take a runny and jump the gap which was at least 6ft wide onto the grass, this was commonly called the garage jump. We would also sneak onto the ledge at the bottom of the flats to retrieve our footballs which had ended up there, much to the annoyance of the occupants on the first floor. We didn’t have the intercom in those early days, so if you wanted your parents for something we resorted to shouting at the top of our voices "muuuuuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmm" in the hope that one of the parents that looked out was yours. Whoever said "you canny throw a piece oot a multi-storey flat" was lying, you can, we did it on various occasions, along with footballs, dolls, you name it. I remember my mum saying that the locals had asked for a nursery to be built for us younger ones and this was promised. However by the time it was built I was 7 and obviously couldn’t attend. My school was Broomknowes Primary which was literally 5 mins away and was a great wee school.
One of my best friends lived in the block opposite mine (she stayed in the 123 block) and also stayed ten floors up up, which meant her living room window faced mine. When I wanted to see if she was going out to play, I would open the windows and scream her name, she would come to the window and we'd arrange to meet up at the bottom of the blocks. One of the games we used to play within the block was chap door runaway with a difference, we'd tie the door together then chap them and hide in the stairs watching the doors tying to open, it was hilarious. There were a few good hiding places in the block as well, if you wanted to hide your fags from your parents there was a cupboard in the corridor going to the stairs, this could open and hide your fags in there - well that’s what I did and my mother still doesn't know about it! The lifts were hopeless though they would break down frequently and you'd end up stuck in them for a while until someone located the caretaker to get you out. I moved to my own flat when I was 21 or 22 but by that time things were starting to really go downhill with the flats. I moved into the 123 block and stayed up 27 floors. The flat itself was great and we had the concierges by this time, but it didn’t stop my flat from being broken into on 1 occasion and an attempted break a couple years later. It was after the attempted break in that I eventually moved out. Do I miss the flats? Well there are certain elements that I miss like the view that I had from 10th and 27th floors and most of my former neighbours, but there are certain elements that I don’t miss. Would I have liked to grow up somewhere else? Hell no! We had a great time growing up in the Red Road.
Would I have liked to grow up somewhere else?
photo Š www.chrisleslie.com
By Linda Romeo, Lived in Red Road from 1968 - 2001
M
y time at the flats was one of shock. I was from Australia and never experienced anything like it. I was terrified of heights, and it was quite depressing environment to live in, but a home none the less. I had fond memories of a concierge named Robert, and my neighbours Alison and Karen. It’s very sad to see they are to be knocked down. They almost seem like a Glasgow monument. But it will remain ever part of my memory; those flats. Boy was it an eye opener for this Australian!
M
y favourite memory was the sense of community throughout the student population between the two tower blocks. There were many parties! My worst memory has to be the fire alarms. Evacuating 30 floors of flats in the middle of a freezing winter evening, climbing down 19 flights of stairs, only to be told it was a 'false alarm'. Then having to walk up 19 flights of stairs, as the queue for the lift was far too long! Shirley King
(lived at Red Road 1992- 1993)
Scott McKay (lived at Red Road 1991- 1992)
I
was born and grew up at Red Road until I was 13 with my sister and friends. I loved every minute of it, it was like having your own little world, fantastic memories, except when their where high winds and the building used to move - you could see the toilet water move in the pan! Pamela Gibson
(lived at Red Road in the 1980s)
I
remember in the summer we would all sit on the grass with the kids playing on the shoot and the concierge would put a hose from the first floor window so the kids could get water for their paddling pools. We would sit out for hours. I don’t get on with my neighbour where I live now. What I would give too turn the clocks back. Carol Kerr
(lived at Red Road 1989- 2007)
Red Road Snippets I
Highlights from Red Road stories
n the beginning there was a great sense of community spirit, everybody new everybody and their was always great competitions to see who kept their landing clean and looking the best. Alison Sannachan (lived at Red Road 1967 - 1979)
Photo illustration Š Billy McDonald
I
think at the time the Red Road Flats had a bad reputation for gangs, but what most people fail to realise is the number of families living in the flats. In those days you could quite easily have five kids sharing two bedrooms that was quite common then. I don’t ever recall a dull moment, it was such a lively place full of children. It was a good place for a child to develop their imagination. We where always thinking of things to do e.g. building dens, making boats for puddles and swimming in ponds, we didn’t need money. Who needed money!
Thoughts on Demolition: I feel quite sad when I see the flats now, as I don't recognise them from my past. When I see the flats and surrounding area now it looks a very dreary and deprived area. Demolishing the flats; it some way is like taking away those childhood memories. Describe your time at Red Road: I have fond memories of living in the Red Road Flats, it was very vibrant and colourful time, lots of fun, laughter and so many friends, there was always someone to hang around with and so many things to do, it was a child’s paradise. How has Red Road affected your life? I don’t really know how the Red Road affected my life then and now, apart from the fact that as a child I had a great time, no bad memories. Not long after moving from the flats I heard that things began to change and drugs began to take over like everything else and the good old days had gone. I’m only glad that I didn’t witness the demise of such a great place.
Red Road Services: Yes, there was so much to choose from in the wee school next door (Broomfield) Brownies, Thursday Club, Scottish Dancing, which kept most of us kids happy. Moving into and out of flats: I was only a child of five year old but remember being very excited at moving into this big tall building with a lift, we had previously lived in a 3 bedroom house with a garden, but these tall building where seen as the future most people where keen to be part of that new future and didn’t want to be left behind. Favourite memory: My favourite memory is having loads of friends and in the summer being out from first thing in the morning to teatime at 5pm. My mother would come looking for us children for lunch but more so than not could never find us. The summer holds very fond and special memories, we didn’t know what it was to experience fear and where very free spirited. Everybody looked out for one another. Worst memory: When the lift broke down. We lived on the 27th Floor and more often than not I would have to manage the stairs on my lunch break from school, and it's wasn’t the first time I had a wee accident. Standard of housing: The standard of housing in the Red Road in the late 60s early 70s was quite good at the time we didn’t experience some of the problems that tenants experience now. On comparison I would have to say we had a fairly good standard of living. In those days everyone worked and had more or less the same, it wasn’t a case of what the Jones have! I even remember the old rent books.
W
e moved from a red sandstone flat to the Red Road Flat as Mum and Dad and 3 children, two girls and a boy. We were excited by everything...my sister and I shared a room to ourselves with single beds and we could choose the colour of the wallpaper. We had a great kitchen separate from the lounge, which even had a dining table in it!! We were in luxury! Best of all though was the veranda where we saw tiny wee people and buses and cars. The view from all of the rooms was terrific. I never tired of it even though I was just a wee girl. Even as a teenager I loved to just sit looking out of the window.
Red Road Camera Obscura - Photo Š Iseult Timmermans - multi-story
I remember my mum being a bit apprehensive when we got a stone fireplace put into the lounge by my uncles...she was sure it was going to end up on the 10th floor below us! Ha-ha never happened thank goodness. We thought the "continental playground" was good when we were young as it had (for a short time until the mothers complained about the mess) a sandpit and great big walls to play ball at. Those were the days when kids played for ages with ropes and balls. Every summer we had our version of Wimbledon at the area where the walls were low enough to act as a tennis net and the mothers could watch while sitting on the seats catching the sun. My mum would throw us money down wrapped in bread wrapping to go and get her a pint of milk or something from the van which used to sit in Red Road. This was a throwback to being in the
Thank you for letting me reminisce - it has been a pleasure remembering. By Catherine Galloway Lived at Red Road 1966 - 1977
tenement when throwing down a slice of bread and jam or money was really ok.... but from 11 stories up the money was a lethal weapon! I think after a while she stopped it for that reason. All the families in the block were nice ordinary people and we used to know the names of just about every one of the 120 families in the block. The flats had four families on each floor and the landings were all highly polished....a badge of honour for the mums. Sometimes we were allowed to put on socks and slide around to help the shine get even brighter...housework we all liked! When I got married in 1977, my mum washed the lift and put something on the floor of the lift and then my dad sat in a dining chair and just kept the lift at our floor for about half an hour till I was ready to travel in style to the bottom to get into my waiting car. My mum wanted me to leave from my Gran's place but Petershill drive was my home and that is were I was determined to leave from. We also used to play all day long in the summer with the other kids in the block and some from the red rd court too. We loved roller-skating down the hill between the blocks (terrorising the adults I am sure) playing chasing and hide and seek etc as kids did. The spare ground across from the flats used to have a few bushes for cubbies and also a little burn to catch tiddlers in. The shops were not built for years and the people had to rely on the vans which sat in Red Rd, Freddys the grocer and Dick the ice cream and there was a butchers van and a fruit and veg one too I think.
Well I will stop here before I bore the pants off you and get to my bed ....its 11.15 pm here in Australia and i just googled the evening times to catch up with the weather in Scotland and before I knew it....I am reading about the Red Road flats being demolished soon. I am a touch sad that they are coming down as it is another place of my childhood gone and that will only be a memory for me. I was born in Bedlay St in Springburn and that house is gone too. Springburn has changed dramatically for the worse really and unfortunately I went to Garnethill Convent school which has also bit the dust! So I am really sad that all of the very important buildings in my life are gone. Realistically I know that the flats in recent times are not a patch on what they were when I was a kid growing up in them. For me they were a place where I felt safe and did not worry about walking around in the dark. I knew someone would always look out for me as they were all neighbours and knew my family or me. Even the 'bad' boys did not bother us. Ach well life goes on so I will get over it eh? Thank you for letting me reminisce it has been a pleasure remembering.
Design - www.chrisleslie.com
photo Š www.chrisleslie.com
www.redroadflats.org.uk