Red Road StoriesVolume 1

Photo © George Logan

T he following stories were submitted online via theRed Road Project website from April 2009 to February

2010.

Developed by GlasgowHousing Association and Culture andSport Glasgow, the Red Road Project is a unique range ofhistorical and arts based programmes that will inviteprevious and current residents of Red Road, and thesurrounding neighbourhoods, to commemorate and markthe demolition of the Red Road Flats and the end of an erafor Glasgow.

If you would like to add your story to the Red Road Projectplease visit the website atwww.redroadflats.org.uk

Photo © www.chrisleslie.com

A ChildhoodSpent inthe Shadow ofthe BeastBy Dr. Joe Murray

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Asa small boy, born in Birnie Road inBarmulloch in the early 1950s, my view of theworld was a relatively open one. In front of

our post-war brick-built tenements was a largeswathe of old farmland which stretched fromRobroyston Road in the east to Broomfield Road inthe west. Beyond this field to the south was a largesteam railway shunting yard which backed ontoBroomfield Road. This was a heavenly view for awee boy as it had a massive turntable on which Icould watch even the largest of steam locomotivesbeing slowly turned round and sent off to distantplaces. Beyond the shunting yard next to St Roch’sJuniors football ground was a chemical or dyeworks from which blue men used to emerge ontoRoyston Road.

Over the old drystane dyke lining BroomfieldRoad and stretching to Petershill Road and RedRoad was a large piece of wasteland. From asearly as I can remember the Fairground or“Shows” would come to that wasteland during thesummer with large colourful trucks and caravans– I can’t hear Bobby Darrin’s “Things” without aflood of memories of those times – flashing lights,the roar of generators, loudmusic and the smell ofcandyfloss, Teddy Boys, Drainpipes, Suede Shoes,and bikers in leathers and those oily rockerhaircuts.

My earliest pals in Birnie Road were PeterDouglas and his wee brother Davie who

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eventually moved away; then Derek Matthews andlater Jim Arnott and Alex Shearer moved into thestreet. They were the best pals any boy could haveasked for while growing up. Sure, we had ourarguments and fights, but they never lasted – weremained pals till our late teens when I moved awayand eventually lost touch.

Even though Barmulloch was a relatively new“Scheme”, near the end of our street was the remnantof an old country lane which shortcut to BroomfieldRoad. It was partially metalled and was lined with, Ithink, Hawthorn, and I used to love it there as youcould hide in the undergrowth and it felt like all thehouses and roads were a distant memory.

One day, I am sure it was in the summer of 1963, buthistory argues it was ’64, an absolutely huge yellowearth moving machine drove onto the field and toreup the “country lane”. It proceeded to gouge hugechunks of earth from all around that part of the fieldwhich lay between the corner of our street, Ryehill

Road and Broomfield Road. It dragged it all to thefront of our tenements thereby creating a ratherlarge and child-friendly hill (which was still there15 years later.)All of this, it turned out, was the groundbreakingfor the construction of the now infamous RedRoad Flats (RRF). I was quite fascinated by thismassive machine as it took no time at all inlevelling a huge area to the flatness of a snookertable – what skill! Within days this area wassurrounded by a 7-foot high wooden barricade.The same thing happened on the wasteland – nomore “shows” for us.

It was around about this time that the steamlocomotives began to disappear from the shuntyard, and the rails and signalling were removedfrom the railway cuttings – Dr. Beeching’s cutswere beginning to bite.

I watched daily as the internal steel frames ofthese huge skyscrapers climbed swiftly to the

clouds; while new shiny diesel enginesreplaced the locos in the yard – these largeengines had drivers’ cabins at each end sothe huge turntable fell into disuse.Motorways were being built, the brand newForth Road Bridge was opened; a new breedof car was being parked along Birnie Road:Hillman Imps; Ford Cortinas; a SingerGazelle – no longer the dark old fashionedand wood-panelled monstrosities ofprevious years. It seemed modernity hadcome to Scotland sweeping the old andoutdated before it – Hollywood’s Americandream and Century 21 were upon us –Fireball XL5 and the space age were areality! – for a young lad they were trulyexciting times.

It is safe to say, my world outlook becamethe colour of Red Oxide paint – for that isthe colour of the steel girders that made theframes of the structure being built at the endof my street; so too the huge slab block onBroomfield Road which began to blot out alarge portion of my horizon. However, theconstant noises of construction andwatching the steel being lifted by the hugetower cranes were quite exhilarating.

From my living room window, on the streetoutside, even from my classroom in StMartha’s Primary in Balornock always themovement of construction; the steel, theshuttering; large pieces of the façade – thebiggest Meccano set on Earth.

During a night in January 1968, asconstruction of the RRF neared completion,I was listening to the strongest winds I hadeven known batter my bedroom window.The noises of things clattering around thetenements were quite frightening. In themorning when I looked out my bedroomwindow slates from the houses on CardowRoad were scattered over the back yards andone or two windows were broken withcurtains flapping like flags of surrender.

When I looked out of my living-roomwindow at the front of the house the sightwas almost apocalyptic. There were hugelumps of steel shuttering in the field betweenthe old railway lines blown from the slabblock on Broomfield Road. There were otherlarge pieces of construction debris, but worstof all a large steel cradle that had beenhanging from the Block on what is now

Birnie Court had been blown out from the buildingby the high winds then driven back with great forceand was now embedded in the side of the buildingon the 14th floor – what a sight!

The following year the flats where opened andpeople moved in. My friend, the lovely FrancesHyndland, moved in to the flat on the 14th floor,later to be occupied by another friend, Brian – thehouses were, by any standards, very comfortable. Afamily friend, John Kerr, took one of the flats on thetop floor of Birnie Court. I remember standing inhis home on a windy night feeling the buildingslightly swaying, it was the strangest sensation: “itneeds tae dae that son, or the buildin’ll fa doon!”.You could see Ben Lomond from his window; Iremember being amazed at how close it was.

What became of the Red Road Flats has now passedinto history. The whole area began to change from1969, but then, maybe it didn’t, maybe it was nevera great place to live; the young see the worlddifferently from adults. I left Barmulloch in 1973,eventually got married, had kids and lost touchwith all of my childhood friends.

Only a few days ago the early evening newsreported that the RRF are to be euthanized. WhenI heard it I felt a slight pang of regret, like findingout on old neighbour from the past had becometerminally ill and was about to die.

I had witnessed the ground being broken andflattened to accommodate these huge structures; Iwatched, amazed and excited as steel-fixersshimmied up or walked along steel girdershundreds of feet up; I watched the lorries come andgo; many of themen who worked on the site rush tothe Broomfield Tavern to “get full of it” on paydays;the large “Redpath and Brown” banners that hungfrom the tower cranes. I feel a curious need to goand watch them razed to the ground at the touch ofthe demolition man’s (or woman’s) finger.

I wonder how I will feel watching a huge structurethat took five years to go up take five seconds tocome down.Will I think of all the fun I had withmypals Derek, Jim, Alex, Peter and Davie playingallevio; hide and seek; kick the can; cowboys,soldiers and war games; all the heroes I everimagined I was. Will I reflect on the time we tiedour captive, JohnHendry, to a pole and “torturing”him by making him eat the custard we had justmade that tasted awful; of the countless games offootball we played – all in the shadow of thesepartially constructed skyscrapers.

Right now I am thinking of the source of sweetiemoney we had by collecting “ginger bottles” atthe construction site gates, and the day we rannon-stop from the ground to the very top floor ofBirnie Court and then all the way back downagain. Oh, and of the day I had my first eroticencounter on the stairwell of the fourth floor ofthe same tower block with a wonderfullygorgeous young woman, whom I had fancied forages and who shall remain nameless.

Or, will I think of those who thought it was okayto pile almost 5,000 people into such a smallarea while, once again, lacking the wit andimagination to supply them with the necessaryamenities on which communities rely to haveany sort of meaningful existence. Yes, maybe Iwill think of them and be glad that, at the pressof a button, their time will have passed. I canonly hope those who are in power now havelearned from their mistakes.

Red Road Flats … RIP!

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My mother and grandmother movedinto the Red Road Flats when I was 2years old in June 1968. We moved

into the 93 block and stayed in 10/3 and grannystayed opposite us in 10/1, but sadly I don’tremember moving there. But as I grew up mymemories of the flats are brilliant. Each blockwas like its own wee community. In those dayswe had a caretaker (none of the concierges thatwe had later on).

During the summer most of the parents frommy block would be out playing with the kidswhether it be skipping ropes, chases, waterflights, British bull dogs or whatever. Wewould all be out there until it got dark. At thetime the bottom of the blocks had four sheds ifyou like and there was a kind of water pipe in atleast two of these sheds that we would fill outbottles, cups, cans or whatever we could lay ourhands on to fill up and then throw over eachother. All us kids would end up soaking fromhead to toes most summers.

And we would climb up on top of the garages,take a runny and jump the gap which was atleast 6ft wide onto the grass, this wascommonly called the garage jump. We wouldalso sneak onto the ledge at the bottom of theflats to retrieve our footballs which had endedup there, much to the annoyance of theoccupants on the first floor. We didn’t have theintercom in those early days, so if you wantedyour parents for something we resorted toshouting at the top of our voices"muuuuuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmm" inthe hope that one of the parents that looked outwas yours.

Whoever said "you canny throw a piece oot amulti-storey flat" was lying, you can, we did iton various occasions, along with footballs,dolls, you name it. I remembermymum sayingthat the locals had asked for a nursery to bebuilt for us younger ones and this waspromised. However by the time it was built Iwas 7 and obviously couldn’t attend. Myschool was Broomknowes Primary which wasliterally 5 mins away and was a great weeschool.

One of my best friends lived in the blockopposite mine (she stayed in the 123 block) andalso stayed ten floors up up, which meant herliving room window faced mine. When Iwanted to see if she was going out to play, Iwould open the windows and scream her name,she would come to the window and we'darrange to meet up at the bottom of the blocks.

One of the games we used to play within theblock was chap door runaway with a difference,we'd tie the door together then chap them andhide in the stairs watching the doors tying toopen, it was hilarious.

There were a few good hiding places in theblock as well, if you wanted to hide your fagsfrom your parents there was a cupboard in thecorridor going to the stairs, this could open andhide your fags in there - well that’s what I didand my mother still doesn't know about it!

The lifts were hopeless though they wouldbreak down frequently and you'd end up stuckin them for a while until someone located thecaretaker to get you out. I moved to my ownflat when I was 21 or 22 but by that time thingswere starting to really go downhill with theflats. I moved into the 123 block and stayed up27 floors. The flat itself was great and we hadthe concierges by this time, but it didn’t stopmy flat from being broken into on 1 occasionand an attempted break a couple years later.

It was after the attempted break in that Ieventually moved out. Do I miss the flats? -Well there are certain elements that I miss likethe view that I had from 10th and 27th floorsand most of my former neighbours, but thereare certain elements that I don’t miss.

Would I have liked to grow up somewhere else?Hell no! We had a great time growing up in theRed Road.

Would I have liked to grow upsomewhere else?

By Linda Romeo, Lived in Red Road from 1968 - 2001

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Mytime at the flats was one of shock. Iwas from Australia and never

experienced anything like it. I was terrifiedof heights, and it was quite depressingenvironment to live in, but a home nonethe less. I had fond memories of aconcierge named Robert, and myneighbours Alison and Karen. It’s very sadto see they are to be knocked down. Theyalmost seem like a Glasgow monument.But it will remain ever part of mymemory;those flats. Boy was it an eye opener forthis Australian!

Scott McKay (lived at Red Road 1991- 1992)

I remember in the summer we would allsit on the grass with the kids playing on

the shoot and the concierge would put ahose from the first floor window so the kidscould get water for their paddling pools.We would sit out for hours. I don’t get onwithmy neighbour where I live now.WhatI would give too turn the clocks back.

Carol Kerr (lived at Red Road 1989- 2007)

My favourite memory was the sense ofcommunity throughout the student

population between the two tower blocks.There were many parties! My worstmemory has to be the fire alarms.Evacuating 30 floors of flats in the middleof a freezing winter evening, climbingdown 19 flights of stairs, only to be told itwas a 'false alarm'. Then having to walk up19 flights of stairs, as the queue for the liftwas far too long!

Shirley King (lived at Red Road 1992- 1993)

I was born and grew up at Red Road untilI was 13 with my sister and friends. I

loved every minute of it, it was like havingyour own little world, fantastic memories,except when their where high winds andthe building used to move - you could seethe toilet water move in the pan!

Pamela Gibson (lived at Red Road in the 1980s)

Red Road SnippetsHighlights from Red Road stories

I n the beginning there was a great senseof community spirit, everybody new

everybody and their was always greatcompetitions to see who kept their landingclean and looking the best.

Alison Sannachan (lived at Red Road 1967 - 1979)

Photo illustration © Billy McDonald

Red Road Services:Yes, there was so much to choose from in thewee school next door (Broomfield) Brownies,Thursday Club, Scottish Dancing, which keptmost of us kids happy.

Moving into and out of flats:I was only a child of five year old butremember being very excited at moving intothis big tall building with a lift, we hadpreviously lived in a 3 bedroom house with agarden, but these tall building where seen asthe future most people where keen to be partof that new future and didn’t want to be leftbehind.

Favourite memory:My favourite memory is having loads offriends and in the summer being out from firstthing in the morning to teatime at 5pm. Mymother would come looking for us children forlunch but more so than not could never findus. The summer holds very fond and specialmemories, we didn’t know what it was toexperience fear and where very free spirited.Everybody looked out for one another.

Worst memory:When the lift broke down. We lived on the27th Floor and more often than not I wouldhave to manage the stairs on my lunch breakfrom school, and it's wasn’t the first time Ihad a wee accident.

Standard of housing:The standard of housing in the Red Road inthe late 60s early 70s was quite good at thetime we didn’t experience some of theproblems that tenants experience now. Oncomparison I would have to say we had a fairlygood standard of living. In those dayseveryone worked and had more or less thesame, it wasn’t a case of what the Jones have!I even remember the old rent books.

Ithink at the time the Red Road Flats hada bad reputation for gangs, but whatmost people fail to realise is the number

of families living in the flats. In those daysyou could quite easily have five kids sharingtwo bedrooms that was quite common then.I don’t ever recall a dull moment, it was sucha lively place full of children. It was a goodplace for a child to develop their imagination.We where always thinking of things to do e.g.building dens, making boats for puddles andswimming in ponds, we didn’t need money.Who needed money!

Thoughts on Demolition:I feel quite sad when I see the flats now, as Idon't recognise them from my past. When Isee the flats and surrounding area now itlooks a very dreary and deprived area.Demolishing the flats; it some way is liketaking away those childhood memories.

Describe your time at Red Road:I have fond memories of living in the RedRoad Flats, it was very vibrant and colourfultime, lots of fun, laughter and so manyfriends, there was always someone to hangaround with and somany things to do, it wasa child’s paradise.

How has Red Road affected yourlife?I don’t really know how the Red Roadaffectedmy life then and now, apart from thefact that as a child I had a great time, no badmemories. Not long after moving from theflats I heard that things began to change anddrugs began to take over like everything elseand the good old days had gone. I’m onlyglad that I didn’t witness the demise of sucha great place.

We moved from a red sandstone flat tothe Red Road Flat asMum andDad and3 children, two girls and a boy.We were

excited by everything...my sister and I shared aroom to ourselves with single beds and we couldchoose the colour of the wallpaper. We had agreat kitchen separate from the lounge, whicheven had a dining table in it!! We were in luxury!

Best of all though was the veranda where we sawtiny wee people and buses and cars. The viewfrom all of the rooms was terrific. I never tired ofit even though I was just a wee girl. Even as ateenager I loved to just sit looking out of thewindow.

I remember my mum being a bit apprehensivewhen we got a stone fireplace put into the loungeby my uncles...she was sure it was going to endup on the 10th floor below us! Ha-ha neverhappened thank goodness. We thought the"continental playground" was good when wewere young as it had (for a short time until themothers complained about the mess) a sandpitand great big walls to play ball at.

Those were the days when kids played for ageswith ropes and balls. Every summer we had ourversion ofWimbledon at the area where the wallswere low enough to act as a tennis net and themothers could watch while sitting on the seatscatching the sun.

My mum would throw us money down wrappedin bread wrapping to go and get her a pint of milkor something from the van which used to sit inRed Road. This was a throwback to being in the

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Thank you for letting me reminisce- it has been a pleasure remembering.By Catherine Galloway Lived at Red Road 1966 - 1977

tenement when throwing down a slice of bread andjam or money was really ok.... but from 11 storiesup the money was a lethal weapon! I think after awhile she stopped it for that reason.

All the families in the block were nice ordinarypeople and we used to know the names of justabout every one of the 120 families in the block.The flats had four families on each floor and thelandings were all highly polished....a badge ofhonour for themums. Sometimes we were allowedto put on socks and slide around to help the shineget even brighter...housework we all liked!

When I got married in 1977, my mum washed thelift and put something on the floor of the lift andthen my dad sat in a dining chair and just kept thelift at our floor for about half an hour till I wasready to travel in style to the bottom to get into mywaiting car. My mumwanted me to leave frommyGran's place but Petershill drive wasmy home andthat is were I was determined to leave from.

We also used to play all day long in the summerwith the other kids in the block and some from thered rd court too. We loved roller-skating down thehill between the blocks (terrorising the adults I amsure) playing chasing and hide and seek etc as kidsdid. The spare ground across from the flats used tohave a few bushes for cubbies and also a little burnto catch tiddlers in.

The shops were not built for years and the peoplehad to rely on the vans which sat in Red Rd,Freddys the grocer and Dick the ice cream andthere was a butchers van and a fruit and veg onetoo I think.

Well I will stop here before I bore the pants off youand get to my bed ....its 11.15 pm here in Australiaand i just googled the evening times to catch upwith the weather in Scotland and before I knewit....I am reading about the Red Road flats beingdemolished soon. I am a touch sad that they arecoming down as it is another place of mychildhood gone and that will only be amemory forme. I was born in Bedlay St in Springburn andthat house is gone too.

Springburn has changed dramatically for theworse really and unfortunately I went toGarnethill Convent school which has also bit thedust! So I am really sad that all of the veryimportant buildings in my life are gone.Realistically I know that the flats in recent timesare not a patch on what they were when I was akid growing up in them. For me they were a placewhere I felt safe and did not worry about walkingaround in the dark. I knew someone would alwayslook out for me as they were all neighbours andknewmy family orme. Even the 'bad' boys did notbother us.

Ach well life goes on so I will get over it eh?Thank you for letting me reminisce it has been apleasure remembering.

www.redroadflats.org.uk

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