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Southside Memories : Growing up in South Nitshill
The Ponderosa, that is what we called South Nitshill when we moved there from Harley St in Ibrox in October 1960. I was six months old, so it didn’t mean much to me. Bonanza had first aired in 1959 and my 11-year-old brother was a TV addict, though his preference was for Davy Crockett, racoon hat and all. We moved into the third floor flat, looking north from the top of the hill across the city to the hills beyond…
This would be a view I would get to know well, cranes on the Clyde, factories in the foreground, mounds of spoil from the old Lime works, low lying tenements and a few high-rise towers. Off to the right a glow would appear from Hampden Park on International nights, and if you listened carefully the roar would sometimes be heard. On Hogmanay we would throw open the window and hear the ships on the river sound their horns at midnight.
Shops, vans and horse-drawn carts
In the early days you could hear the clip clop of a horse drawn cart and a voice calling “any auld claese”; us weans would gather around the old horse, staying a bit back from the size of it and the man’s fierce attitude. Every week the “van” would tinkle around, selling ice cream and ginger, the ubiquitous term for fizzy drinks. Irn Bru might be the standard bearer today but back then it was cream soda we craved.
We had a few shops in the scheme, two tiny grocers, Galbraith’s and the Co-op, a newsagent (ah, the rolls) a butcher and a “fancy goods store” Kerr’s, selling light bulbs and knitting wool.
Summer trips to Ayrshire towns
In the summer buses would be put on to take us to the coast, Troon, Girvan and Ayr. Largs had a stony beach and was not a favourite of mine, Nardini’s ice cream parlour there was unknown to me, we could not afford it and took sandwiches with Kia-Ora juice in an overheated plastic cup.
I moved away in 1983, to a job in Aberdeenshire. A new and completely different life awaited me, though I was ignorant of that at the time. Up there lived a community that was oblivious to the curious Glaswegian preoccupations, and I came to see the city as Scotland’s New York. In the country but not really part of it. Cosmopolitan yet inward looking.
Weekends visiting Mosspark and Bellahouston
My landscape through the sixties and seventies comprised Soothie (as we called it) and Mosspark, where my father’s mother and her eldest daughter lived. Maw and Nana. I would be taken there each Saturday by Mum and on Sundays Dad would take me to Bellahouston Park, to the bowling green, site of my long-gone grandfather’s sporting success.
Maw’s house seemed so different from my home, especially when my dad’s many brothers and sisters appeared – Mamie, Nellie, Lottie, James, George and Davie – usually not all at the same time. Sibling rivalry lasted well into their dotage. There was an air raid shelter and a wee garden at the back where my grandfather’s flowers had often won prizes, on the other side of the hedge was the cemetery that held his grave.
Each Saturday Nana would have bought a box of French Fancies (the Fern Cake was always for Maw) for our visit and their terraced housed smelled of coal gas and stewed tea, kept on the hob and topped up through the day. Maw, now in her eighties, never seemed to move from the chair and Nana, deaf from a childhood accident, had to be woken from her slumbers when we arrived by putting a light on.
Sometimes we would go to the pictures at the Mosspark Picture House at the end of the road, sadly long gone. The hairdressers on the way there sat in a single-story infill between two red tenements, the window decorated with images of beehive haircuts.
South Nitshill was not a great move for my parents. It was two bus trips to Shieldhall and the SCWS for Dad and isolating for Mum, though she soon found a community of likeminded women.
Schooldays, new neighbours and social engineering
After a while I noticed the curious, and probably predetermined, attempt at social engineering by the council. On each floor, of the close we lived in, were two families. One catholic and the other mostly non-denominational. They swapped locations on each floor.
Ours was a happy close, we got on. The older man next door was quiet and content. I would wait for him to come home from work, and he would pat me on the head with a rolled-up newspaper. The top floor housed a childless couple, and the man was a huge cheerful butcher, though when rescued from Changi in 1945 he weighed less than 6 stone.
This was my community, a mostly content small village.
My first school was Nitshill Primary and as I look back, I see the other attempts to integrate the people from the religious divide, this time through the placement of buildings. Across the road from our “Proddy” school was St Bernard’s Catholic Church and outside the Soothie boundary sat St Bernard’s School. This social engineering didn’t really work and a sense of otherness was maintained by each group. They rubbed along well enough and I don’t remember any real animosity. Only a social distance, laced with a fear that was seldom enunciated.
For example, when Celtic won the European Cup, Mum kept me indoors. No doubt the same happened to others when the Orange Walk season was upon us, I too found that alienating. This distaste arose, no doubt, from my socialist father; whose morals were defined in the ‘20’s and 30’s by the Red Clydesiders and a belief in the common cause of all working people. He hated religion and the toxic effect it had on his community, he aspired to a utopia of common interest and endeavour.
As the sixties progressed, I joined the Cubs and then the Scouts, and was taken camping and hillwalking and the experience put me off the great outdoors, a reaction a that has lasted to this day. I was a softie. School was fine and I have friends from those early years to this day.
Remnants of old Nitshill village
Nitshill in the sixties retained some of its village structure. The Railway Inn sat up on the embankment next to the railway bridge over Nitshill Road, facing the war memorial and the small monument to the Victoria Pit disaster. We incomers didn’t pay much attention to these features. The pub was removed, I suspect when the road under the bridge was lowered to get the buses through safely.
Along the road was the Jackie Connor garage and a small shopping court was formed with Templeton’s supermarket, home to my first job, stacking shelves and stealing biscuits. A bit further stood a remnant of the old village, a detached house that was the doctor’s surgery, Dr Gerber, a quietly spoken, smiling, gentle, man who must have endured many challenging experiences with his patients. He shared the building with an optician who prescribed my first glasses at age eight, plastic framed NHS that would sit squint on my face.
Nitshill station was a haunt for me and my pal Chubb (a stout lad called Neal). We would visit the station man, Auld Tam, who would chat away to us in his dark waistcoat and wee skipped cap. Along the platform stood, for a while, the monument to a WWI VC winning soldier, John Meikle, who had worked at the station. This would be regularly pushed over by the youth, much to Auld Tam’s distress. His life was plagued by this social disorder.
My softie nature found this too much and I stayed away. I would often find refuge at home to avoid the threat of something unknown from the folk outside. This unknown would on occasion become frighteningly real, I can remember swords and knives being wielded as I traipsed home from the Cubs.
My Secondary School was Craigbank. Terrifying to think of in Primary, I found it hugely affirming when I was there. It was situated in a less hostile landscape, if you kept your eyes away from the Bundy housing scheme across the road. There were mature trees and reasonably well-maintained gardens intertwined with tidy semi-detached council houses around the school. Nearby was Pollok Park and while I seldom went there, my father did; especially as the Burrell building was being erected. He had a sense of civic pride about this and longed for it to open, but he died before it did…
The lasting influence of new scheme community life
Those buildings and the landscape of those days were to influence me, though I was unaware at the time. The douce, well maintained and managed working class Mosspark, with its tidy tenements, gardens and parkland, together with the remnant village and nearby industrial heritage embedded themselves in my psyche. I enjoyed history as a school subject and the social history of Scotland’s city surrounded me.
My move in ’83 to the North East was to work for the National Trust Scotland, an organisation I knew nothing of. It would give me an opportunity to work with many of Scotland’s finest historic buildings, and when I moved on after 34 years as a surveyor, and senior manager, they would publish my stories. A Heritage in Stone recounts the characters I knew and the places I cared for. Aberdeenshire remains relatively unknown to most folk, it is a land of farms, castles, beautiful villages, distilleries and, on occasion still, an impenetrable language that confirms a living link to northern Europe and a pre-Union trade network that is largely unknown. Pictish monuments dot the fields and ancient forts sit on top of low hills.
In the years since leaving the Trust I have offered consultancy to folk looking after old buildings, often local communities. I have been very fortunate to meet and help wonderful people who strive to protect places that their communities really value, whether they be old schools, swimming pools, public parks or whatever.
My early experiences in the south of Glasgow have been foundational and my memories of the people there has given me a connection to folk committed to the care of their environment, for the betterment of their neighbours. Those folk of my youth, family, teachers, friends and neighbours have embedded a core value and I am grateful for it.
By Ian M. Davidson
Published: 9th February 2022
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Image references
Priesthill and Nitshill, Glasgow, general view, 1991. Photo: copyright of Canmore / HES. Canmore ID 78669
https://canmore.org.uk/collection/1685344
Ian’s grandparents, Maw aka Charlotte and John outside their house in Mosspark, circa 1956. Photo: copyright of Ian M Davidson.
Mosspark Picture House, Paisley Road West, April 1934. Opened in 1925. Photo: copyright of Glasgow City Archives from their Virtual Mitchell website.
Nitshill, Glasgow, general view, 1991. Photo: copyright of Canmore / HES. Canmore ID 78666
https://canmore.org.uk/collection/1685338
General view, Nitshill, Eastwood, Lanarkshire, Scotland, 1937. Oblique aerial photograph, taken facing south. Photo: copyright of Canmore / Aerofilms collection.
https://canmore.org.uk/collection/1452134
Priesthill and Nitshill, Glasgow, General View, 1991. Photo: copyright of Canmore / HES. Canmore ID 78666
https://canmore.org.uk/collection/1685342
About the Author:
Ian M Davidson was born in Glasgow in 1960 and after a few months living in Ibrox moved out to the new housing scheme at South Nitshill. He attended Nitshill Primary School (1965-1972) and Craigbank Secondary (1972-1978). He then attended Glasgow College of Building and Printing to study Building Surveying, graduating in 1982. Ian moved to North East Scotland to join the National Trust for Scotland, where he stayed for almost 35 years, occupying several roles from Assistant Surveyor to Head of Projects, Director NE, and Lead Surveyor. Upon leaving NTS in December 2016 the Trust published his stories in a book that spoke of the fascinating characters and conservation he enjoyed (A Heritage in Stone, Sandstone Press, 2017). A regular public speaker, Ian has also assisted community groups in conservation projects. He was made Visiting Professor at Robert Gordon University in 2016 and Chairs the RICS Conservation Accreditation Panels, helping others to become involved with the care of our heritage.
English
Really enjoyed this. Where did you live in Southnitshill? I was born in July, 1959. Lived at 57 Plantation Street, Kinning Park for 1st year, then 3 months at 48 Fairfield Street, Govan before moving to 36 Whitriggs Road, December, 1960. Lived there until moving round the corner to a gas house at 470 Parkhouse Road. I went to Saint Bernard’s Primary from 1964-1971 and Bellarmine Secondary from 1971-1977. Then Stirling University, 1977-1980 getting B.A. Degree in Social Policy and Administration. Then Edinburgh from 1980-1988. Career highlights in Auld Reekie were Royal Blind School and Barnardo’s, the beginning of my career proper, my field being that of children and young people with learning disabilities. I returned to Glasgow in 1988. Lived at 3 Golspie Street, Govan above the Old Govan Arms until 1995 before moving with my wife Susan (whom I met in Edinburgh in August, 1986) and our 18 months old son Michael to an upper cottage flat at 95 Arbroath Avenue, Cardonald in August, 1995. Moved to current abode at 40 Dumbreck Court high-rise in January, 2000. Never tired of Bellahouston and Pollok Country parks. Most of career back in Glasgow a mixture of young homelessness and Learning Disabilities with Catholic Church Social Services. More recent years have been spent working in homelessness with Blue Triangle in Paisley. Just turned 63 on 18th July. Don’t know if our paths ever crossed growing up, but great listening to your life story. You have done well for yourself and remembered with fondness where you come from – admirable attributes. Well done and good luck. So glad I came across your piece. Best wishes, Michael
Michael
Thanks for your kind response. Looks like we were contemporaries accross the school divide. That seems so long ago now and I retain many good memories with a few less happy, but then is it not always so. Our flat was on Whitehaugh rd. Looking north so not much sun, but great views over the city.
Hi,
I loved reading your story of Southie. I grew up in Whitehaugh Crescent. My parents came from Cardonald, and when I visited my aunts and uncles at Berryknownes Rd, I use to think why my parents moved from such a lovely place.
I remember all of the above well, Icecream vans, shops and the Rag Man, giving us balloons and small plastic items in exchange. I remember grabbing anything at hand,so I could get something from him
I moved to the north east in 93. I worked in Insurance on Union Street Aberdeen for 10yrs & loved that there wasn’t a division between catholic and protestant on the east coast, it was foreign to them that this happened in Glasgow. I went back to Whitehaugh Crescent before it was demolished. It felt like it was a dream. A great sadness came over me as I remembered my mum and dad who both died in our flat. The balcony or veranda, if you were posh cooling down from the summer heat. The fireworks and bonfires lighting up the buildings all over Glasgow.
I use to go horse riding at Pattersons farm and my friend use to bring a saddled horse up and not thinking twice I’d run down the close, jump on the back and ride hard and fast across the crescent. No health and safety, just a pair of wellies!
I moved to Neilston after my dad died and noticed the difference almost immediately. It dawned on me in a short period that the way we were living in southie was abnormal. I had a conversation with my oldest sister and we wondered how we survived living there. Bad thing happened to me as a child, through violence, not from my family, but by some nasty characters in the area. What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger,right!
Living there, and growing up with a mix of different characters, has taught me how to deal with all kinds of people. One of the last conversations I had with my dad, he said “Look after your sister, she’s not street wise like you!”
Anyway, it was lovely to hear your story.
God bless
Caroline x
Caroline
Thanks for this kind response. It looks like we were neighbours (almost) I was in Whitehaugh Rd.
Yes it was abnormal in that place. However, it seems you have not just escaped, but thrived. I know a few others likewise.
Time moves on, the scheme is gone and I hope that this wee story along with the memories of others will help it not be forgotten.
Ian
I liked reading your story Ian. Do you have anymore pictures of the area. I was born in the Gorbals, moved to Priesthill in 1961. I went to Burnbrae and Craigbank. I then got married and moved to Woodfoot quad in 1976-1982.
Hi
I stayed in Whitehaugh Crescent as a kid from 1973 until 1987. Loved South Nitshill, and when we moved to Nitshill, I longed to be back in the Crescent. Loved growing up in a great community, loads of friends, great neighbours. Actually moved back a few years later to Parkhouse and moved on eventually due to work. Must say didn’t find anything abnormal about it at all – had a great 14 years there. Sad they demolished it, watched them demolish my old house back in 2005…would never get away with demolishing rented houses to build a private estate these days ! So sad that so many were forced to move away as the scheme was emptied when they didn’t want to go. (OK for those that did, not for those that didn’t). Nice to see St Bernard’s Church is still there and still open. Great memories.
Hi Ian I remember your lived in number 3 whitehaugh crescent I remember chubb and his sister Margaret their dad grew veg in the back courts I loved growing up there as did my kids miss the old southie it was a community and we all looked out for each other I would go back in a heartbeat
Enjoyed reading this. We moved to South Nitshill about 1959/60. Went to St Bernard’s.
Brilliant wee read brought back some great memories, i moved from Govan into Newfield Square in the late 60s and now living in the new Southie sadly its a totally different world now though
Hi Ian I have nothing but great memories of growing up in south nitshill I remember you from nitshill primary and you were also in my class at Craigbank secondary school used to play football round the crescent where you stayed I remember chubby Lloyd soapy and John Sutherland and if I remember right you used to hang about in secondary school with John mcara Archie Pearson and there were a few guys from southie in our class ie Alex Barbour John Buckingham alan Angus Danny bell Steven Bentley as you will remember it went by alphabetical order I myself have been married for over forty years I still live in the area Darnley actually and my daughter lives in the new houses built on south nitshill it was nice to read your south nitshill / nitshill memories also do you remember getting the bus school in the morning coming home at lunchtime and going back after lunch
Hello Ian, my family lived in Nethan Street across from David Elder Park and mved to Whitacres Road in the ’60s, myself coming along in ’65. Went to St Bernards and then Bellarmine and left Glasgow in 1990 to move to Newcastle upon Tyne, where I still live. Really enjoyed the comments and stories.
Grew up in south nitshill loved the place and the people still friends with the people l grew up with and I’m nearly 60 only reason l left was because they pulled our houses down l now live across the road from where l grew up it broke my heart see my living room have knocked down had to pass it every morning
I grew up in Southie in the 60’s to the begining of 1990.
It really went downhill when the kids grew up into teenagers, gangs at the end of the local shops, loitering just outside the off licence.
Like another person has said, it was a toxic place growing up. So glad I left in the early 90’s, moving to London, then the Isle of Wight, Florida and now Yorkshire. Hated the place and all the religious tension.
Its so nice to not be asked what team do you support without worrying if your answer would get you beaten up.
Nicely written piece.
We lived in 484 parkhouse rd and I loved growing up in southnitshill with so many big families all around you .
Alot of great memories one of them playing football in the fields on parkhouse Rd for hours and it was normally about 20 a side ha ha if you could turn back time.
Live in Australia now and have been here since 1990 , but will never forget where I grew up. Southnitshill Cheers and thanks for the memories
Recognise a few names in your memories of southnitshill Ian and a few of the people who have left other comments about they’re fond memories.
The things I remember of growing up in parkhouse rd in southnitshill are all the great big families around and playing football in the fields for hours on parkhouse rd and also in your old primary school and it was always about 15 to 20 on each side great memories and would not have changed those and many more memories of southnitshill. Thanks for sharing your memories and best wishes to everyone who grew up and lived a life in good old southnitshill.
Cheers Mick Brady now in oz
My family lived on Whitacres Rd. I recognize some of the above names that have commented. My brothers are Junior, Bobby and James. Your descriptions of Southnitshill are spot on. I always wanted my parents to move…but they never did. I have been in the USA for 30 years. I married an engineer who was in the US Navy. There were great people that lived there….and some people with a lot of issues. Thank you for the history lesson!
I used to go to houselhillwood school in the 1970s in pollok but I have noticed nothing has ever been mentioned not even on the Internet or likes of Facebook its like non existing I am wondering if any one that has photos of pupils of pictures at this school I’m the 70s…I am autistic would like to see those photos again if someone csn help please
Hi we stayed 31 whitehaugh rd loved southie played footie in the cresent went to south nitshill primary then craigbank sec worked as a butcher manager in the top shops were the bus termanis was.
Really good read folks. Moved to 11 Whitehaugh Cres in Oct 1960. Attended Nitshill Primary,
Miss Susan Calderwood was my teacher. Great neighbours George Donald number 7 ?, David Grady number 5, the close where the priest stayed ground floor. Murray Black number 5 and Eric Kelly number 9. Loads more but marvelous times . Left in 1974 got married. Great shame its become a private estate. Do hope some folks remember the names mentioned
Thanks Tommy Miller