Midgie rakin' as an education

Hello again ,I thought I might share a word or two about a subject that I found very difficult to discuss in the playground in the 1950s.This was of course the art of midgie rakin' ,which is,for the non Govanite,searching dustbins or middens as they were affectionately known.
I was brought up in and around Burndyke St., and my playground was the empty tenements and the bombsites of the surrounding area . Having a large number of younger brothers and sisters, I very quickly learned that being an explorer in a deserted tenement was a great way to dodge the ever present chore of "watchin'the weans".
Now the empty tenements of Govan were a great source of fun and learning for many a youngster and there were wonderful things to be had ,like doors for building gang huts ,old enamel hearth plates which could be bent over to form a sort of sledge which would provide hours of fun when carried to the nearest hill.
For me there was the also the possibility of finding some items of value,however meagre,that could be traded for a few pennies at Mary O'Hara's rag shop,an establishment well known to my mother as well as may other Govan women who struggled to clothe large families on very little money.
Mary O'Hara's was situated behind Orkney St police station and was a sort of Victorian cavern with a great pile of old clothes in the centre of the floor that people picked through in search of useful items.In one corner there was a large iron scale for weighing the goods brought in by the totters or rag men as we called them, when they had spent a long day exchanging balloons or sometimes even goldfish for any rags or scrap metal that the kids could persuade their parents to part with.
For my part I would remove old brass door handles ,gas lamps,or any item that looked as if it would be worth something. Some of the empty flats would still have items of furniture in them and even pictures hanging on the walls,so when I had gotten old enough to make myself a pramwheel bogie I would put anything I deemed to be treasure on the plank and haul it along the Govan Rd.,
Another source of income for me was the much frowned upon practise of "midgie rakin' and this ,having begun in Southcroft St,expanded until I would take myself off on a Sunday morning to the far reaches of the top end of Copeland Rd., and even on occasion into Bellahouston.
Whilst this enterprise did in fact sometimes yield a few pennies ,I had this great obstacle in my way when,having been rewarded by Mrs O'Hara and headed off home along the Govan Rd, I would find myself at the counter of SICCI'S cafe where many of my great plans and good intentions would pass over the counter,leaving me with a full belly and empty pockets.
I went on to become an antiques dealer many years later,but I will ever be aware that the beginnings of my education in the trade,however humble, were in those back closes and bombed out buildings.
I have spent a lot of time over the years at antique fairs and auction houses seeking the rare and unusual ,but even to this day I remain convinced that the best treasures I ever found were those found in dear old Govan.

govan history and hysterics

Govan memories,history and hysterics.

Hi ,For years I have treasured my memories of dear old Govan and the people I grew up with there,I grew up in the bomb sites ,back closes and dunny's that were the playgrounds of the day. I am the eldest of twelve children,seven of whom are sisters and all of us lived in the single-end,one up in No 8 Burndyke street,I started Copeland Road School in 1953,and went on to Govan High School after my "Qually".
My father's family came from Neptune St,so I grew up with a knowledge of history of local characters and events that were the subject of the very many Sunday gatherings at the Burndyke St, single-end when some of the local men (my father included) would drown their sorrows with such notable libations as Lanlique,V.P, Melroso, Eldorado and other such fine wines,obtained "on tic" at twice the normal price from the local shebeen.
A part of this gathering on occasion was a much loved resident of Govan called Ghandi Sharp,who was a docker and to whom fell the dubious distinction of ,when made redundant,bought and took delivery of his own coffin.This was discussed for many years afterwords and became almost folklore.
For those of you who are familliar with Govan,you will know that for many years there has been a pub on the corner of Burndyke St and Govan Rd ,called "The Bells".The back close of No 8 Burndyke St had a couple of "middens" and a cut through to the back close of 571 Govan Rd.This was a much used shortcut for us kids going to the shops and on one such expedition I dropped a penny in the back close of 571,as I watch the precious coin roll away I was amazed to see it dissapear down a crack between the large slate slabs that made up the floor of the close.
In tears I went home and reported my loss and the mysterious crack in the close to three or four of the Sunday drinkers who were there. I think someone may have given me another penny,and the matter was forgotten.Two weeks later on a Sunday someone lifted the slabs in the back close of 571 and emptied the cellar of The Bells which is where my beloved penny had gone.
The results of this daring feat were the subject of many Sunday gatherings thereafter and for years I wondered if my penny loss had inadvertantly led to the whole caper.
I am sitting at home in London over 50 years later and this memory comes back as if it were last week.I must try and do some work today so I will sign off and post some more Govan memories later.