Friends from the Wemyss

The following story is taken from an oral history, recorded on tape, by my father Edward Johnston about 1985, when he was 83 years old. It tells the story of his early life, and is transcribed exactly as he tells it on his tapes. The odd word may be missing, but the message is as accurate as possible. Any errors in spelling etc are mine. These tapes were transcribed in September 2002. Johnno Johnston

Early Life

My name is Edward Johnston. I was born on the third day of January 1902, at 18 Scott Street, Aston, subdivision of Duddingston, in the county of Birmingham. My Mother was Annie Daly (Johnston). My Father was John Johnston, Railway Detective. I was the youngest of six children. My eldest brother being John, the next one James, then Peter Thomas, then my sister Helen Mary (Sissy) and Charles Kitchener Johnston. Charles Kitchener and myself were the only two born in England. The rest of the family were all born I think in Broxburn in Scotland. My Father and Mother were married in that area, I couldn't tell you exactly the place, but they were married somewhere about the Lothians. My Father was born in Ireland. It seems that his Mother, when expecting, had went to visit some relatives in Ireland where he was born.

1902-3

My Father and his mate had taken some goods from a van in one of the sidings. It was some props belonging to a theatrical company. I don't know what is was, but they had gone and pawned them, just for a few drinks. They were found out of course, and the Police were after them. However before he would stand up to it, he cleared off, and we never heard of him to this day. After a while, my Mother took us all back to Scotland, and I think she stayed with some relatives for a while, but it did not work out, so as a result we came to Fifeshire, and there were some relatives in Kelty. We stayed there for a little while, I don't know whether it was a grandfather or what it was. However that didn't work out either, so as a result, we had to go into the Poor House in Dunfermline. After being in Dunfermline for a period, I couldn't tell you how long, the County got us fixed up with a little house in Cowdenbeath, in a street called the Diamond Row. There were about four or five cottages all together. I don't know if they were called after the Queen Victoria Diamond Jubilee or not. I don't think so, because they were old and dilapidated and were nearly ready to be demolished, when we went into them. However the house consisted of two rooms. What we call in Scotland a "But and Ben." You ate your food and slept in one end. We had the other end with bunk beds. I think there were four bunk beds in all. The kitchen and living room floor was all laid with stone flags, and the back bedroom had an earthen floor, which we had to put lino on top of it. When the damp weather came, snails and worms and everything came up out of the floor. It was some place I could tell you. My memories of it were very vague, but I could remember all that.

My Mother got a job cleaning out the schools. She used to go in the morning about seven o'clock. I don't know what sort of work she would be cleaning at the school, but she came home about nine, and then she would go out for washing, she didn't take washing in. She went to people's homes and did washing all day. She was there nearly all day, and she would get about half a crown, which was about two shillings and sixpence, and maybe a bowl of soup or something like that, to keep her going. In the evening she had to go back to the school again, and do more cleaning, with the result that the rest of the children were all at school, and I had to be left in the house by myself. I can remember quite well, my Mother used to lock the door, and put the key back under the door for me. I was no more than about three or four years of age. She used to go about half past two, and the school didn't come out until about four, with the result that I was left in the house till the elder ones came home. One thing sticks out in my memory. I was about four at the time, and just up from where we lived, there was a wall, and I used to go up and put tins on it, and throw stones at tins until I could knock them all off. My Mother came to the door and shouted on me, and I wouldn't leave until I could knock every tin off the top of the wall, and I got a clout when I got down to the house of course.

My Mother had a hard life, and I don't think we ever fully appreciated what she did for us. I forgot to say that when we were in the home in Dunfermline, two people a man and wife, offered to adopt John and Jim. These people were saying they wouldn't have to change their name or anything, however my Mother said she was going to keep them all together. We were still being looked after by the Parish. I think it was twice a year we got some clothes. I think maybe a pair of pants, like what the scouts used to wear, a jersey and a pair of boots, and that was all we got. She had to pay for the rest, unless she knew some people who had cast offs just to help us going. I remember I got a kilt, I would be about ten years of age. I got a kilt from a woman that my Mother used to do the washing for, and her boy used to wear this kilt, and it was a full kilt, and I used to wear this at the time, and they used to sing after me "kiltie kiltie cauld bum". I remember when I was about three or four, I went out of the house one day and ran across the road, and there was a bloke coming down the road on his bike who hit me, and I think I broke all the spokes in his bike. I think he got the worst of it. I wasn't too bad losing a few bits of skin here and there, but he was the worst. So I got a smacking for that, for running across the road, not paying any attention

Next door to where we lived was a two storey block, and they had a chip shop in this place, and in order to get some chips, we used to go around gathering all the papers. In those days, if you took in a bundle of papers, they gave you a bag of chips, so that wasn't too bad. Kitch used to chum with the lad that had the chip shop. Bird they called him. It was a funny thing they called him Harry(Hairy) Bird. He had these big gobstoppers. He gave Kitch one, and he had been sucking it, and it went back his throat.
He was choking, and he ran into the house, and I didn't know what was wrong with him. He turned blue in the face, and Mother found out what had happened and she tried everything. She put him on his belly and thumped his back, and tried everything and she thought he was going to die. However she had been cleaning the fireside, and her fingers were all black lead, and she eventually put her fingers down his throat, and managed to get this marble, just like a marble lolly out. At the time she tore all his throat, but if she hadn't got it out he would certainly have died. That is one of the things that happen when you suck one of theses lollies, don't let it go back your throat.

We had a soccer team at that time, at the North End Park in Cowdenbeath, and they were a fairly good team. There was a big fruit shop there and John and Jim and Tom, on a Saturday, used to take baskets of fruit to the ground, and sell them. They got a penny a shilling for selling the fruit, and they always came home with some fruit after the games. I was there at a game one day, I would be about five years old. I don't know who was playing Cowdenbeath but I was shouting like mad, "Come on Cowden" and there was a bloke sitting next to me, and he gave me a threepenny piece for supporting Cowdenbeath. I said "I'll go and support Cowdenbeath every week for a threepenny bit."