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> Home Made Tales, The journey
peter.howden
post 13th Nov 2019, 03:44pm
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The tales of Hector and ‘The Bruce’

Only Just Pious


The author wishes to convey, this three-part article is a personal experience… certainly not scribbled to be plainly derogatory towards people’s beliefs
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Today throughout Glasgow’s dynamic vicinities, attracting young enthusiasts heading for the bright lights just before mid-night…then party on till dawn. In the late 50s/early 60s, adolescents were allowed out to the devilish hour of ‘10 of the night clocks’, on weekdays, hitting Cinderella time on Saturday, Sundays… out of the question

Religious organizations owned many varied properties around the city, fusing almost absolute power, preaching from pulpits, ‘Night bewitching hour life breeds debauchery, making it taboo’, if not against Christian ethics. The Hielanman’s Umbrella; nicknamed for ‘Highlanders and Islanders’, as a rendezvous. Not a ‘Big Mac’ in sight, except in a name.

Apart from the folk scene on a Saturday late evening, the only warm light in the middle of the night was the tea stalls. After dancing in the “Cooper’s Institute” it was inevitable Hector would wander to the tea stall at Cuthbertson St. Clean cups, fresh sugar (no brown bits) tasty rolls and sausage, or bacon, if not tops in hygiene. A bit of comfort in the grey of the 60s nights. A beacon in the darkness of mankind.

Late one evening, an old bloke, most surely a wino (Drinker of anything) not a pretty sight, given his dire needs, shivering uncontrollably, lacking adequate attire for a winter’s night. Hector bought a mug of tea, gave it to him without asking as he just looked… not a word passed.

Hector took off his gloves then gave them to the hobo. Hector took off his scarf, body warmer, and his fleeced lined car coat, handed them to the surprised stranger…Hector disappeared into the dark night, heading for Marywood Square.

Hector’s China, ‘The Bruce’, related this tale to their church Minister, young Mr Phillips, who said warmly… “This was a good Christian beneficial act, on Hector’s part!”

The Bruce’ sly reply was… “Naw…Hector was pissed!”
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peter.howden
post 16th Nov 2019, 12:43am
Post #692

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The tales of Hector and ‘The Bruce’

Only Just Pious (2)

The author wishes to convey, this three-part article is a personal experience… certainly not scribbled to be plainly derogatory towards people’s beliefs

Having passed through the ranks of Life Boys, then the Boys Brigade, plus as an unlikely Sunday school teacher, not to mention accidently becoming a bouncer for the church youth club, it seemed natural progress to Hector’s first church communion, however, his spiritual being was in turmoil. Small nagging reflections surfaced, sensing it was the same spiel every week, just the names changed to protect the innocent. It also appeared silly to lecture meekness will inherit, turn the other cheek… and if asked, walk that extra mile…for this was Govanhill, at the time a cradle of adolescent hooliganism.

The street code was no tougher, or rougher than any other district in Glasgow, but the belief was created by the youth, to know how to handle yourself…or be a good runner. Amongst it all, a raw kindness weaved thru the community, hard to explain to anyone who has not lived in a tight poorer area of any major city, but Glasgow especially is rightly know for instant warmth of its people. Where once a church, is now Govanhill Housing Association office, a driving force serving the needs of its richly vast cultured neighbourhood

The Reverent Philip suggested Hector should join a few other people, to the vicar’s manse, for an informal chatter on wandering souls, express their faith within the bounds of the church.

The meeting was debating a fair assortment of theories, and religious emotions, but most important how the individual honestly defines the whole meaning of prayer. The minister turned to the subject of the demon drink, then looking at Hector directly… spoke softly, how there was no reason to ask his opinion on the said matter.

Reverend Phillip glances around the company towards an older man, who Hector knew via the district. This demure dressed elder man went on to claim, persons who indulged in monster liquor, were indeed, on a shoddy slippery road to damnation, and the evil of booze he would not allow a drop to pass or touch his lips. Coincidentally, Hector was puzzled, as he had often seen this very person, frequently pissed as a newt, stoatin up his wally close, in the posh part of Cathcart Road, yet God’s envoy looked pleased at the response.

Hector thought naively… if someone could tell such down right untruths… to join God in church, then the whole idea was wide open to question?
To this day…Hector still holds the gentle Reverent Mr Philips in high esteem.
=-=-=-
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peter.howden
post 18th Nov 2019, 01:42pm
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Posts: 779
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The tales of Hector and ‘The Bruce’

Only Just Pious (3)

The author wishes to convey, this three-part article is a personal experience… certainly not scribbled to be plainly derogatory towards people’s beliefs

Hector’s allegiance to the ‘Water of life’ was known during Christmas services, with Mr Phillip’s observing the odd behaviour of, Hector and ‘The Bruce’. Both embellished emphases sing hymns off key and a few bars behind everyone else…the lads wondered if God had noticed.

Hector believed the minister was a fine man…however with One black spot…evoking the parable “no room at the inn”. One Christmas everyone gathered information, producing a set a list of so many names, plus encouraging local business to chip in, was with grand success. Around fifty elderly people received, 15 in groceries, plus a bag of much needed coal. Simple…. However, Reverent Philips asked if all were Church of Scotland. The Bruce and Hector were disappointed. What the hell did it matter?

Reverent Philips persuaded Hector, via the Playhouse to attend a Billy Graham’s third Europe crusade (weird word to choose, to save poor misguided souls). Witnessing the usual fanfare from the true master orator, beckoning slipped souls, down to the front of the famous theatre. Wavering at first, with true wonder of his inner beliefs, Hector went, feeling like a sheep, hurdled into a room, a red-faced sheepish man, burping out a well-rehearsed “road to salvation.”.

Asking a plain question threw Hector’s messenger off salvation trip, passing him onto someone, supposedly more advanced. Reiterating now the seemingly uncomfortable question, and again the tutor passed him on, declaring this gentleman was a true pastor who would be able to answer. This time Hector was shown the back door, branded as a troublemaker. So ended the sermon.

His inquire was “what would happen, after the rapture at the end of the world, if all religions practicing, discovered we all had been praying to the wrong supreme being?” Or worse still “If he’ was not in?”. Hector never told Mr Philips of the older man’s fibs, as well as Hector never entered the church again, after his first communion…he felt…one black sheep was enough!
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