Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
After my brief overnight stay in Gateshead, I'd an incident free odyssey south on the A1(M); arriving back in Leeds yesterday afternoon. My journey predominantly spent with the late morning/midday solar rays positioned just to the left of the driving seat sun visor. Consequently, my singing along to the refrains on Sting's '10 Summoners Tales'... Continue Reading →
I'm writing this prose in a hotel around a mile from the Low Fell home I was brought up in on Gateshead's southern suburbs. Sitting in the lounge of this guesthouse, even though I'm unable to see those places currently residing in my neurological corridors, memories flood back of childhood. These epiphanies including recollections of... Continue Reading →
Yesterday evening I watched a recording of a BBC Four broadcast of the John Wilson Orchestra from the Royal Albert Hall; a performance forming part of the 2019 Proms season. The Gateshead-born conductor's orchestra treating their audience to a selection of music from Warner Brothers movies. John Wilson was educated in the same Low Fell... Continue Reading →
The 1972 Miners' Strike introduced me, along with the rest of the UK populous of that time, to the joys of power cuts. Not to mention more frequent use of the query “Has anyone seen that box of matches?!” January and February's frequent electricity shortages, caused by the Central Electricity Generating Board's fuel saving strategy, hit... Continue Reading →
Recently, I've felt moved to pen a few unreliable memories from my upbringing on Low Fell. The Gateshead borough which on its southern border, shared with Low Eighton and Birtley, resides one of the countries most iconic sculptures, the Angel of the North. When I left my parent's three bedroom semi-detached home on Dorchester Gardens in 1987... Continue Reading →
As I recall, the Low Fell library was built-in the early 1970's. Progress of its construction at the corner of Durham Road and Chowdene Bank something I witnessed during games of football on adjacent grassland on the cusp of a small dene. A near neighbour of the Thomas Wilson WMC. A club I'm told was... Continue Reading →
Birtley Baths in the 1970's, destination of my infrequent childhood swimming trips; the pool I'd venture to when seeking chlorine induced red eyes or veruccas. I realise it's unusual to seek out those afflictions, but my mum had a strange approach to keeping up with the Jones'. Seeking not to miss out on anything the... Continue Reading →
In October 1983 a brand spanking new snooker centre opened adjacent to the Springfield Hotel on Durham Road, Gateshead. Being a big fan of the game back then, along with a few mates, I signed the dotted line to become a club member. With the exception of a dimwit called Nadger***, who'd regularly chalk the... Continue Reading →
Yesterday in Friday Nights On The Fell I wrote of the Low Fell pub route mates and I undertook on Friday evenings in the early 1980's. Within this journal, relaying the order of service (at the bar, not from the pulpit) and some of the characters with whom I socialised back then. Admittedly, this meander on foot was... Continue Reading →