Drumchapel 1971-1975

Introduction
Thankfully I hold dear memories of my formative years growing up in the much maligned Drumchapel area of Glasgow. My years spent there throughout the so called dark and gloomy 1970's were full of excitement, adventure, poverty, dens, fighting, games, laughter and tears. To relate some of what I remember of these mythical days I will extort from my memory glands how I personaly remember them and try and give a feel for the experience from an angle that holds true to the influence that living there has engrained into me who I am now.
Background
My Mum (Ruby) and Dad (John) had had 3 children by 1970 2 of which were alive and kicking (Michael and Margerate-Anne) Sadly the 3rd child Owen died through the unexplainable way of cot death. I came along in 1971 and spent my first months with the family in the Scotstoun (Scotstoun St) area of Glasgow. We upped sticks to Drumchapel in 1971 when i was 3 or 4 months old as I'm guessing that the house was to small for us to all cram into.

Incidentally in this house before I was born my dad survived falling out the window that was  the top floor of a tenement 4 floors in all! By luck his fall was broken by landing back first onto a car in the street below! Many bones were broken and his legs pinned together with girders made in Scotland. That car gave me life. To this day many still curse the driver for parking there.

Rug rat, black taxi, family snaps and hippos
As I was just rug rat for the first year or so my memories are hidden deep within in the realms of my brain that not even a hypnotist could retrieve. I do remember liking rusks though, first memory of liking food a little too much! 1973 seen the arrival of the 5th child to grace the Connolly family his name was David and he was to be the last addition.



My first clear memories were when I went to Bellside Nursery school which was a 2 minute stroll from my house Number 9 Cloan Avenue. Now I'm sure that I must have been 3 or 4 years old at this time. I have soft frame memories of skipping along with my mum to nursery in the morning until the afternoon. She would drop me off and I would spend my time playing in the sandpit and making multi coloured animals with gritty hair ridden plasticine. Best time of the day was singing along to teacher playing the geetar to such classics as
" Whole world in his hands," "If your happy and you know it clap your hands" and " "Ally Ally Ally Bee" try read em without singing em!

Other memories were of baking rock cakes at nursery and a magical visit from Santa at Christmas time.I can still remember sitting in a circle with the teachers and other nursery kids in a hall festooned with paper decorations that we must have spent days doing. All singing songs and waiting for Santa to arrive via the Rudolph express. It took ages for the arrival of the red suited present giver but arrive he did "Ho Ho Ho, where are all the good children who deserve a present from Santa?" We all screamed "me me me Santa Ive been good Ive been good" sheepishly looking over at the teacher to see if the expression on her face confirmed that you had indeed been a good boy and therefore would get a present from Santa. I got a toy black hackney taxi. I really really loved it and can still feel twangs of joy just remembering that day and the black taxi corgi toy.

Not really much more memories of that age except I can just about remember a holiday to visit our Auntie Helen and our cousins down in Hull. There are photographs of us all there. For some reason I remember that on one day we were all to get our photo taken individually and that there had been trouble that day not sure what but probably was David biting me and me blaming Margaret-Anne! David had a tendency to bite me as was his want and I,d get into trouble for crying about it!! Anyway  we were all in mums bad books and the photos show clearly the sadness of aftermath that day. My rosy cheeks were just pure deep purple and my bottom lip was tripping me, Margaret-Annes face came a close second to sullenness,  family classics now! Another Hull memory was of a day we went to the beach and my cousin James and I playing in what looks like mud. We were covered in it and a photo shows that we must have been hippos who could use buckets and spades in past lives.

 5 year old man, slow mo, and greeting


Turning  5  was excellent. I had made it, I was in control, I was king of my world, I was a man!! I was a huge fan of Steve Austin the "six million dollar man" aka "the bionic man" the T.V show. He was my hero and was in my eyes a real living Bionic man who saved people from the baddies on a regular basis. All done in super high speed or my favourite in slow motion. He could run as fast as a jet, jump ravines, see for miles and hear everything from all over the WORLD man. He was ultra cool. I played at being Bionic every day for ages, setting up my room with obstacles that I would bionically overcome and all in slow motion.(oh and singing the tune as well) Running in slow motion was a hard thing to master but I excelled through perseverance and sheer belief that I was indeed bionic. Strange thing is that i would always be last to sit down at the dinner table as i was slow motioning it down the hall as the rest of the herd rumbled by me in real time!! Did I care no, because I was bionic man and he eats once the baddies are tied up with rope and behind bars. Food Pah

My 5th birthday present and still to this day my most favourite was a bionic man outfit!! Oh yes a top and bottoms red suit that made me really bionic. I could not have been more excited as I put it on. I can clearly remember mum saying that I could put in on but could only wear it in the house!! I can see her point now as it was as flimsy a cotsume that ever was, I mean it was made out of  material that that was as thin as a crepe paper and held no protection to anything the weather could through to it! However was I listening? no chance as soon as her back was turned I decided that the bionic man was to make an escape out the house and show off to my pals that I WAS THE KING OF KINGS (and the street) in the suit.

So all in slow motion I left my room, quitelty opened the front door shut it behind me, deftly leapt the stairs (ravines) in the close all 3 flights and made it to the close entrance. Oh yes I was the man. It was early afternoon so no-one was around but hey ho I didn't care. I was bionic and there was things to do bionically. I leapt of walls, ran slow motion round the back, then decided to climb a tree to get better use of my bionic eyes. All was good until climbing down the tree I caught my arm on a twig and ripped the whole length of the arm off! Man mum would be not happy only had it on for half hour and its ripped and i'm outside! Woooo Wooooo sniff sniff was the sound of me greeting all the way up the stairs (not in slow motion). Mum was cool just called me an eejit and that was that. It was a great day though.

Next blog 1975 -1980