THE FLATLEY DRYER

[Tizer]

I agree with Ian but there are many British people now who would consider road work too far below their expectations, and anyway they don't like being outside in the cold and wet!

We listened to a radio programme about the `Douglas babies' recently and it's useful to make the comparison of how we had the vision and commitment to set up a long-term project in 1946 compared with how things are done now. Douglas babies

[Stanley]

Thanks for that link Tiz. I sort of knew about the survey, it is often mentioned in passing, but that's the first real explanation I have seen. You are right, exactly the sort of long term work that produces results. And that's the key I think, 'long term', these days everyone wants immediate results and more 'bangs for each buck'. Not the best way to achieve real results.....
You're probably right about getting people to work outside, young people seem to think it is demeaning to get your hands dirty or work on 'menial' jobs like road work (or picking asparagus for that matter). I can remember an Irish firm of contractors called I think UK. In the days of pick and shovels they were experts at digging trenches at a fast rate in all weathers. I spent the major part of my working life outside dealing with weather and always think about people doing those jobs when we have a lousy snotty day. Admittedly they have the advantage today of modern waterproof clothing, in those days the thickness of your coat governed how well it kept you dry.... (And then you had the problem of drying it overnight!) I used to have a good selection of thick donkey jackets and cut-down army greatcoats! Remember the naval duffel coat?

[Stanley]

Can any of you remember the flexible capsules that lighter fuel used to be sold in? You nipped the teat off the end and there was just enough for a refill.

[Stanley]

In my youth the breweries, the railway and the Cooperative Society were still using horses pulling four wheeled drays. This was partly dictated by the shortage of road fuel for motor vehicles. There were steam wagons as well, working long after their normal working span. It wasn't until the 1950s that there was a change over and in the case of the railways, this was to the ubiquitous Scammel Scarab and automatic coupling trailer. The unit simply backed up under the front of the trailer and it automatically retracted its front support, established a connection to the rod-operated brakes and the driver didn't need to get out of the cab.



Here's my mate John Ingoe with his vintage Scarab at Ellenroad. As you can see from the registration they survived until at least 1968. This is significant because 1968 was the date of Barbara Castles Road Transport Act which brought in higher standards for maintenance, design and braking. Though perfectly safe for low speed operation with light weights this was the death knell for the Scarab and Scammel lost a nice little earner because before then they had a monopoly of this type of vehicle. Notice the three wheeled design, this made them incredibly manoeuvrable because they had a very tight turning circle.

[Tripps]

I vaguely remember those vehicles. Also when road transport was nationalised - British Road Services (?). (How did that work out then?) . I remember the lorries were green, and had the name of their depot sign written on them. We used to 'spot' them like the trains. That would be about 1950, I guess.

[Tizer]

Like John Ingoe, I too have a Scarab...but it's only 4mm to the foot scale! (Mind you, it costs me less to maintain.)

[Stanley]

See THIS for the Road Transport Act of 1947 which nationalised the big firms and long distance road transport. It worked well, put many rapacious operators out of business and meant far better maintenance of vehicles and better safety for drivers and pedestrians. The Tories de-nationalised road transport in 1962 and it took the 1968 Road Traffic Act to get the industry back to obligatory standards of operation, maintenance and annual inspection. Before nationalisation and between 1962 and 1968 the industry was a jungle and drivers were given the mucky end of the stick. I could tell you some stories......

[Tizer]

I could tell you some stories......

Do you need me to twist your arm?

[Stanley]

I used to spend hours in an office on Clyde Street in Glasgow where a man called Jimmy McCall ran a clearing house. Here's a bit from me memoirs. More later....

"After one or two false starts with clearing houses which gave good work but forgot to pay I settled down with two main sources of work, Jimmy McCall at 268 Clyde Street Glasgow and Toby Transport, Rippleway, Barking. I used lots of other houses of course in different parts of the country but these two were my main men and they got to know me and how I ran. They were both honest dealers and it was in their interest to cultivate good drivers like me, it did their business good. I never got on really intimate terms with Toby as I didn’t go into the office very often but rang them and got instructions over the phone. It was a very different picture at Jimmy McCall’s, his drivers were part of the family.
Jimmy had an office in a converted shop in Clyde Street, Glasgow. It was on the side of the river and only a stone’s throw from Enoch Square. There were two desks, one for Jimmy and the other for his clerk, Norman Crerar. In the shop window were two easy chairs and a sofa and the drivers used to lounge in these while waiting for their loads. This was a place for stories, arguments about politics and general good humour, it was the best social club in Scotland without a doubt. I will now have to bore you with some clearing house stories."

[Stanley]

Tell me when you have had enoughh!

"Jimmy had his favoured drivers and I soon became one of them. He would always find me a load, I don’t think I ever went away without at least enough work to pay the expenses to get down the country. My favourite load was from the Arran Barytes Company in Dalintober Street, just across the river. The factory was buried in a sprawl of workers houses and the only way in was a low ginnel just big enough for the wagon. The material I carted out of there was powdered, calcined barytes which was used whenever an inert filler material was needed for a product. It was used in paints, tyres and plastics but most of their production went to Cooke’s Explosives, Penrhyndeudrath in North Wales where it was used as a filler in the manufacture of gelignite. This was one of my regular loads and I used to enjoy it.
I always loaded ten tons of the stuff in paper bags. It was very heavy and ten tons was a compact well sheeted load when you’d got it on, no problems about slipping loads or loose ropes. It was very dusty and I used to give the lads in the works 5/- to load for me. I went into a bar next to the ginnel, the Pop Inn and had a beer while they were seeing to me. This bar was run by a lad from Doncaster who had been in Glasgow for so long that the locals called him ‘Jock’ and there was always something going on in there. On one occasion I walked in and there was a fight in progress, I sat at the bar and watched for a minute and then asked Jock if we shouldn’t stop it. He looked at me and said “How long is it since you saw two hunchbacks fighting?” I took a closer look and saw he was right so we settled back to watch what was probably a unique occasion. Another day an old biddy came in with a trolley made out of a soap box on wheels and proceeded to fill it with every spirit you can imagine. Jock told me she was minder for a poker school in one of the houses down the road. He reckoned the game started just before the end of WWII and was still running. Shades of Damon Runyan!
One of the most memorable incidents I ever saw in the Pop Inn was when a very small docker was harassed by another bloke who must have weighed about sixteen stone. The little bloke took it for a while but eventually he reached the end of his rope, he took his cap off and laid it on the bar, removed his false teeth and placed them in the cap and turned to the big man. “You! Outside!” and off they went. We sat in the bar looking at each other in awe and shortly afterwards the little fellow came back in, replaced his teeth and his hat and drank not only his own beer but the one the big bloke had left as well. Nobody said a word, it’s the little ones who are dangerous!"

[Tizer]

The Arran Barytes Company sourced their material from Glen Sannox mine on Arran. I presume they owned the mine. Here is an entry in `The Mines of Scotland', A bibliography by Tony Oldham. LINK

Downie, R. Angus, 1933, `All About Arran'. Blackie & Son Ltd, London and Glasgow, 62-63. Barytes mining on Arran. “This mine was originally opened in 1839 and was worked until 1862, when `the barytes mill, which marred the solitary grandeur of the scene which opens as we reach the plateau at the mouth of the glen, was entirely removed by order of the Duke of Hamilton'. In 1918 it was reopened, and in 1920 work was begun again in earnest. A new shaft was then sunk, and a light railway and a new pier in Sannox Bay were built. Of recent years [1930?] the buildings have been considerably extended, and another shaft has been opened upon the hillside to the north. Over 10,000 tons have now been raised. Only the water power of the Sannox is used in the working of the mine. Barytes, when milled, is employed in the manufacture of paint as a substitute for white lead.”

[Stanley]

Ground calcified Barytes was also used as an inert filler in things like rubber for motor tyres but I always took mine to Cook's Explosives at Penrhyndeudraeth in North Wales where ICI used it as a filler to absorb nitroglycerine in their Unigel explosives.

"Once loaded I would set off down the country. I always liked to have some weight. Jimmy had a good load out of Sterne’s refrigeration which was always to Sterne’s depot in London, it was a capacity load, that is the goods were so light that you couldn’t get more than two and a half tons on the flat but got paid by capacity. A ‘cap’ load for 18 ft of flat was eight and a half tons. This actually paid more than the ten tons of barytes because you burned less fuel and it was a longer distance but I would always take the barytes, it was better when you were hammering up the hills hard into the collar, you felt as though you were earning the money!
I usually left Glasgow with this load at about 16:00 and often pondered on what a funny old game this driving was, there was everyone going home for their tea and perhaps a night in the pub while you were launching yourself at 200 miles of road, overloaded and in all weathers. It would take me six hours to get home, I’d have a night in Barlick and get away first thing in the morning and be at Cookes by lunchtime. By the time I was unloaded it would be late afternoon and if I hadn’t got a load out of KMP the following day I would stay in Penrhyndeudrath for the night. It was only a small village and the first time I was ever loaded into Cookes I asked them where I could stay for the night and was directed to this little cottage. It was the home of a widow whose husband had been a sea captain, the house was full of strange objects from all over the world. There were only two bedrooms and her daughter was a nurse on night shift. She used to get up to have a meal with us and go to work and I used to climb into her warm bed! She used to get back in time to have breakfast with us in the morning and she would always pull my leg about the state the bed was in. She once told me that it never bothered her sharing the sheets with me, I recognise now that this was some sort of compliment but at the time never gave it a thought. Small things like this reinforce my conviction that so many things have changed. I can’t imagine a woman doing this now.
Cookes Explosives was part of ICI but ran as an independent firm. The processes were incredibly simple and wonderfully dangerous, basically they boiled nitric acid and glycerine together to make would you believe nitro glycerene? This was so explosive if you spilt a drop it exploded when it hit the floor! They mixed this with the filler, extruded it like a sausage and wrapped the lengths in oiled paper. Dead simple and very dangerous. The higher the proportion of nitro to filler, the higher velocity the explosive. Everywhere was well ventilated, not particularly because of the danger but to lessen the chance of getting what the workers called a ‘nitro headache’. Nitro glycerine is used in medicine in small doses to dilate the arteries and lower blood pressure. It used to be the standard treatment for angina. When I went in the works I had to give up my matches and wasn’t allowed to run the engine, the battery was removed and an industrial tractor which had been flame proofed towed me to where I had to be. You had to wear rubber soled boots and all the tools they used were made out of copper, all to avoid accidental sparks. The nitro was brewed up in big copper vats and the barytes was mixed in by hand to make a paste, this was then packed in paper cases to make the individual cartridges. All the stock was kept in a magazine in a quarry on top of a hill inside the factory. There was only one place in the works where you could have a smoke, this was in a compartment made of glass bricks in the canteen. There was a permanent gas jet in there for a light.
One day while I was in there a sign writer came in and started to work on an addition to the painted safety record which was on a large panel behind the serving counter. He was painting a thin red line across the board. When I asked him why he pointed out through the window to a large crater in the ground about 100 yards away. This had been one of the filling rooms until about a fortnight before when for some unknown reason the hut had gone up killing two female workers. For safety reasons the dangerous work like filling cartridges or detonators was done in wooden huts surrounded by high earth banks. The theory was that if there was an explosion the blast was directed upwards by the surrounding bank and the damage restricted to just one section of the works. The red line signified the end of a long run of accident free days. One funny thing was that Cookes ran their own vehicles to deliver the gelly to where it was needed and carried the explosives and detonators separately. After a change in the regulations they started carrying them together. That always puzzled me."

[Wendyf]

I like the phrase "hammering up the hills hard into the collar" it summons up images of a coach & four on a rain lashed night with the coachman cracking his whip.

[Stanley]

Exactly the same thing Wendy. I loved having plenty of weight and listening to the engine working well. The big Gardiner engine in the wagon and trailer was particularly satisfying, bags of torque at low revs and the exhaust barking just under my side of the cab. I've seen shop windows vibrating because of it. Little lad's stuff I know but you felt as though you were earning your corn!

[Stanley]

Liz and Maz have reminded me of the days when we had to eat what we were given. We lost something the day mother asked the kids "What do you want for tea?"

[Stanley]

Doctors doing operations at home. Surprising how many times tonsillectomies on the kitchen table came up in the LTP.

[PanBiker]

A lot more folk died of infection as well.

[Tizer]

My father's mother lost her first three children shortly after birth. Then she had three girls who survived...until one died in her early 20s from infection after a motorcycle accident, a second in her teens from an infection, and the third in her 20s after the birth of her first child. My father and a younger brother were born after the girls. Then their father died aged 54. Grandma always felt bitter about what she saw as poor medical treatment and was very critical of doctors.

[PanBiker]

A lot of people don't realise that antibiotics have only been available for a relative short while. Developed just in time for WWII. It has only taken us that long as well to abuse their use by inappropriate prescribing or cow towing to demand from stupid patients who don't know the difference between infection and a virus and demand and instant fix whether appropriate or not. We even overdose animals in the food chain to add to the problem. May not be long before it becomes the norm again to die from what should be treatable infection. Full circle in about 80 years.

[Marilyn]

I know that when hubby had Septicaemia, they hit him with everything they could throw at him antibiotic-wise. Nearly killed him in the process...knocked off his kidneys and liver. Doctors said it was a risk, but even they thought they had gone a bit far. Turned out to be a Strep bug. Once they knew what they were fighting, they could hit it with the right one. They were pretty relieved when his kidney and liver functions came back...as was I.
( that's why I quietly freak when he injures himself...we don't want to revisit that experience)

[Stanley]

I was prone to cystitis for years, very unusual in men. I had a bad episode when I lived in Bacup and a lady doctor, Dr. Duggleby gave me exactly the right anti-biotic and I have never had it since. I try to avoid them and have refused them in the past.

[Stanley]

The first time an antibiotic was used on me it was a miracle. I had a bad scrape on my shin bone and just as it was healing I did the same thing again! It refused to heal and in the end I went to Arthur Morrison and he dressed it with a gauze soaked in Penicillin grease. It healed perfectly within ten days. This was around 1960. I wonder whether it would work as well now......

[PanBiker]

I feel extremely fortunate that penicillin still works for me and up to press is the only thing I need to keep flare ups of my peritonsillar abscess under control. I know the value well, when I first had the condition it took less than 24 hours for the infection to put me within an inch of deaths door. At the time after excising the abscess they whacked me with intravenous cross spectrum AB's and had me on 15 minute obs for the next 24 hours. I was discharged after 3 days on IV's with a two week follow up to ensure no re-infection. I recognise the symptoms of a recurrent flare up well enough to know when I need to dose myself, Dr Hare was the last doctor to agree with me when I offered my throat up for inspection. Thankfully not been there for a few years now.

[Stanley]

We live and learn Ian. Good that you had a doctor who listened to you. I like Dr Hare, she was the one who wrote the assessment of my back that retired me on permanent sick pay a year before my normal retirement date. Smart cookie!

[Stanley]

I've remembered that it was Doctor Hare who did a small operation on me at the surgery to cut out some vestigial sinuses that remained on the site of one of my carbuncles. I don't know whether these operations are still done at the surgery.... She got two of them but missed two. They do not cause me any problems as long as I look after them.