From Scotland to England

So my parents were in Scotland for a time. I am not exactly sure how long, probably a couple of years at the most, enough time for my sister to go to school and make friends. My uncle had met my (soon to become) Auntie in Middlesborough If I recall, they met at a dance. So my Uncle eventually moved to the North east to find work, my dad followed suit and so we all moved in to the desperate town of Newton Aycliffe.

I am guessing the year would have been 1970 or '71. My dad got a job in a place called UNDERGROUND MINING MACHINERY or UMM as we called it. It was Ill fated because of the miners strikes and pit closures that affected so many other businesses around the region, my dads work place would eventually become a victim of this.
They lived at 16 Wright Close, not far from the town centre. My family like so many other people were quite poor. I think in those days people had a little bit more respect for each other & there was more of an understanding between people as well as small communities, or maybe I am looking back with rose tinted spectacles. 

I remember my mother telling me that they had very little and my dad & my uncle had to strap a settee to the roof of a car to get it to the house and two more times with the chairs and other furniture, otherwise you carried it or threw it on the bus with you, hard times by all.

Finally we reach me. I was born on September 26th 1972 in Greenbank hospital, Darlington. The hospital is no longer there I am afraid to say. I believe my mother went on the bus to the hospital in labour pains, again I am grasping at what I remember being told. 

 There are stories that I turned blue through a lack of oxygen and was in intensive care for a little while, and they feared I may have brain damage, so you can imagine the jokes from that alone from those who know me today.
I have always struggled wondering what I am in terms of ethnicity, my parents are both Scottish so all my DNA is Scottish, yet I was born in England, so you say I am English. This is never easy growing up in a household where they don't warm to the English very much at times, and sometimes I felt more Scottish than English, strange.

My early memories of living in this house or street was playing on 'space hoppers' if you ever remember them or heard of your parents talking about them. They were huge inflatable rubber balloons that you sat on, and they were shaped like rabbits, and the rabbits 'ears' acted as handles you could say. I remember an episode when I was three or four years old and I asked my mam if she wanted anything from the shops in the town centre. I also told her I was going to get beer, she didn't believe any of it of course and just humoured me, but of course I wandered up the town with a penny to try and get some beer. Luckily I was spotted by a neighbour of my mams who brought me back safe and sound thank goodness. I like to think this is the moment where I learned that I enjoyed wandering & going places, something I still do today, I am usually wandering somewhere or other, and usually without much point.

My parents in America 3

I'm not sure of the details, but my father did own the share of a pub with two of his Scottish friends I believe. It's possible there was an American man involved, I'm not sure. The pub was called 'The Rose & Crown' in Calumet city, Illinois. I hear that the pub is still there today in some form or another. it is situated in the bottom of what appears to be a large hotel / apartment.

A lot of my dads time was spent there, I remember him watching episodes of 'cheers' and reflecting on his own times in the Rose & Crown. He loved 'cheers' because it reminded him so much of the atmosphere and dry sarcastic humour he remembered in those days. from what I gather, my dad would finish his day job, be it painting & decorating or tool making and then drink his money in the pub with his friends.

This was a burden to my mam who in later years would be left with my two older sisters at home alone. My mam told me that many other women and wives would be left in similar situations and some of them would get together to support each other and generally keep themselves sane as their husbands continued their boozing.
I know of one occasion where a friend of my dads (Vietnam vet) turned up at the house looking for a place to stay. He spent most of the night pulling stitches out of his would and leaving them in the ashtray before going to bed to crash out. My mother was woken one night by a strong smell of smoke. The Vietnam vet had gone to bed drunk whilst smoking and naturally set his bed on fire. My mother had to make sure my two older sisters were safe before calling the authorities and also trying to get hold of my dad who was......in the pub.

There were probably more times where they could have split up, but my mother has told me in recent years that these were the days when 'men were MEN and women had to do what they were told'.
I was surprised when I heard these stories as my dad was always such a quiet person. I forgot to mention earlier that by this time my parents were married. They got married in 1963 I believe (how could I NOT know?) it was Christmas eve 1963. It was always nice to see their happy anniversary cards on the television when I was growing up, even though they were never affectionate to each other. I believe from their own hard backgrounds, showing affection was frowned upon, and they constantly had trouble expressing it. This is something I now understand and appreciate. My parents never hugged us, or told us they loved us, but I know they did. They always made sure I was ok, they always gave me money, and never beat me up like some poor kids go through. For this.....I am very grateful to them, especially because I know their marriage was more out of convenience than love, and they did that for their children....us.

My dad was pretty much a family mam at heart believe it or not, and he was very keen on his own family to come and stay in America with the option of perhaps living there in the future. My mam was against this, and it seems this was frowned upon by everyone. My mother was made to look like the villain. My dads family didn't have much to do with us as we were growing up and sometimes I wondered if it was because they didn't like my mam, or they held many things against her because she was not keen on everyone living with them in America.
I talked to my mother about this and I can understand her position. She was forever housebound with two small children, and sometimes she would never see my dad for days. Sometimes he would work,drink and sleep at the pub and go straight back to work. My mothers life was dreadful and I always remember her telling me she would listen to 'Homeward bound' by Simon & Garfunkel and dream of Scotland and her own family whom, I imagine she really missed at this time. My mother never had much support really especially from her own family. For my dads parents & family to stay would mean my mother would be looking after all of them pretty much like a servant, a position she used to hate when she worked for the Weiner household.
So I don't blame my mother for not wanting to entertain this idea & I can understand why she wanted to return to Scotland.

My parents in America 2

Like many other nationalities that were based in America, there were communities, and as far as I'm aware, My parents had their own Scottish community, my dad certainly did. My father would go out with his friends and eventually hook up with other like - minded people, on one occasion my parents met. Scottish being Scottish, there were many drinking sessions, I think my dad was always more sociable when under the influence of alcohol, being a quiet man who was also a deep thinker, he always struggled with small talk and would quickly move onto more cerebral topics after introducing himself, which was never easy for complete strangers to grasp. After he had a drink however he was fun, generous (to a fault) and a great ballroom dancer by all accounts.
So my parents met and as far as know there were many good nights out, long drives out, going to the drive in cinemas (that must have been fantastic) and so on. It must have been around this time that my mother broke her arm in a car accident, the details to this have always deserted me, but I believe it was a case of drink driving. I think many people did it in those days (not that I'm condoning it) and this occasion was quite a terrible experience for my mother, as a result of this she has always had a 'clicky' elbow and her arm is slightly bent out of shape.

My Parents in America 1

Where do I begin? This will probably have no structure at all, but in a sense I don't care, because nothing has much structure, especially in recalling memories. I will quote from Steven Berkoff in saying that these memoirs will be written as 'Free association', so it will appear to be quite random at times.

Ok I was born on September 26th 1972, in Darlington, County Durham in England. My parents were Scottish and had moved to the North East after a few years of travelling around. They actually met in Chicago Illinois in the early sixties after leaving Scotland, It's funny how two people who lived 15 miles from each other, should travel thousands of miles to meet. My mother was a nanny who worked for Mr & Mrs Wiener, a Jewish couple who worked in health care. My mother had a deep running contemptment towards MR weiner who was said to have not treated anyone with respect, especially my mother, who was......a nanny. Maybe my mother hated taking orders, this seems more likely. 

My father was a skilled man, a toolmaker by trade and I make no apologies by describing him as a toolmaking genius. After finishing his apprenticeship and also serving his two years national service in the R.A.F. he embarked on a mission to America. Many of my dads friends were going, so they all went, all the lads.

He eventually became a painter & decorator, I remember him telling me he had painted one one the 'Knicker bocker' hotels (I believe this was a chain of hotels) and he saw Elizabeth Montgomery who was fairly famous then from being in 'Bewitched', It was strange for him to have once have been a rough tough working class Scottish lad and then be in America and seeing all the sights and sounds of America, I was always impressed listening to him about America. It is a place that even today I am in total awe with, At this moment I am a million miles from ever getting a chance to go there, but there is something in me that tells me I will go there, to live or at least to have such a long stay over there, I would love that. I would love to go on a coast to coast holiday there, maybe I could marry a bag lady and get quick citizenship, the possibilities are endless.