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1939 was also a remarkable year for me personally. My parents were Good Templars, i.e they did not drink alcoholic beverages and were staunch members of the Independent Order of Good Templars in Dundee or simple ‘the Lodge’ as they termed it, since every branch was a lodge with a particular name and number. My first recollections are of them being members of Camperdown Lodge, which met on a Saturday evening in Camperdown Masonic Hall which was situated in a corner of a square, up an outside stair from which access was gained by way of a pend in Barrack Street. However this closed, due to lack of members in 1938. My parents them transferred their allegiance to Rescue Lodge which met on a Tuesday evening in St Salvador’s church hall in Church Street. There were other lodges which met on other evening's throughout the city; The Home of Peace, The Pioneer of Peace and The Perseverance are the ones I remember. Read more......

Just before the war, roundabout 1937/38, my Uncle Jack, my Dad's brother, bought a hut sited in on the 'Downs Poultry Farm' simply known as 'The Downs'' between Monifieth and Carnoustie, near Barry. There were a few other huts situated there, probably about a dozen or so. Nearby to the site was a military camp associated with a convalescence building (I think) called the Soldiers Home. We regularly spent weekends or sometimes longer at 'The Downs' as did many others from Dundee when they had a few days off. Read more......

Before leaving Dundee, we lived in Annfield Street, above Mrs Ledger's shop, where she sold horehound toffee. I remember my mother used to give her most of her sweet coupons for her sugar and we would get cakes etc.

I was 10 when we left and I remember when the siren went, we had to go to a shelter underneath the tenement building; later I thought what a stupid place to go - if a bomb fell, we wouldn't have had a chance. Read more......

My childhood in Dundee was brilliant, Mid-Craigie to me was the grandest place on earth, for me it was home and may I say in all the places I have been to since - nothing compares - that isn't sarcasm - it's heartfelt. The Swannies was my best place to be and Baxter Park in the summer was a joy. I remember skating on the ponds on a few or more cold cold winters, but you never felt it till you got home. Singing like a banshee in the park at the competitions and never winning apart from once. I am talking late 50s/early 60s when life was easier and safer. Read more......