 |
| Armed and ready for action |
There he stands (above), Scott Tracy, pilot of TB1 from Thunderbirds, as manufactured by Matchbox Toys in the early '90s. There was a lot of Thunderbirds merchandise around then (and I think I bought an example of most, if not all of it), due to the show then enjoying its first national (as in simultaneous) broadcast across the country by the BBC since its original independent regional airings on different days at different times (depending on where you lived) back in the '60s.
And now a slightly embarrassing admission. I'm sometimes in the habit of taking a small toy with me whenever I go for a walk around a former neighbourhood with which I associate the item. It might be a replacement for an original toy I had when I lived there (it's my way of 'reconnecting' the item with the place), or it might be a contemporary retro toy that didn't exist until years after I flitted, but is based on and represents a TV show from the period of when I yet resided in the area. Thunderbirds obviously fits those criteria.
Which is why, one pleasant evening in or around the mid '90s, Scott accompanied me and my dog Zara along to where I'd lived between 1965 and '72. I wandered around the deserted playground of my 2nd primary school in order to relive the time when I frequented said playground in the innocent, carefree days of my childhood. At 4 or 5 points around the school grounds there had once been wire mesh litter bins which detached from the metal frames they clipped on to; now only the frames remained, though they were eventually removed a relatively few short years later.
Taking the Scott figure from my pocket, I carefully placed him atop one of the frames so I could drink in the surrounding sights and imagine the figure as belonging to the era and area of my boyhood. However, a slight gust of wind blew Scott from atop his perch and he landed head first on the tarmacadamed ground, leaving a very slight, practically imperceptible mark on the trim of the rear point of his hat.
Normally such a thing would have appalled me, and prompted me to attempt applying some remedial administrations to disguise any 'damage' (or buy a pristine replacement), and I certainly considered it. However, as stated, the faint scuff was almost invisible unless examined under a loupe and was therefore scarcely worth the effort of any restoration by me. I could always do it later, I thought, if it ever began to irk me.
I'm glad now that I didn't, for the following reasons. The school was demolished in 2014 and houses and bungalows built on the site. (A new educational edifice was first erected on nearby football pitches within the rather expansive grounds.) Nowadays, whenever I look at my Scott Tracy toy (and the scuff on his hat), I'm reminded of a vanished era when my old primary was still standing, and also just about everything else from that particular period of my childhood. (One memory leads to another, you see.)
Isn't it amazing that, as an adult, simply standing a toy figure on top of a frame for a litter bin which existed when I was a boy, can connect me to an earlier point in time when my former neighbourhood was still as it had been and not what it has since become? Well, I think so anyway. If you can relate to that in any way, feel free to comment.
.jpg) |
| In this old photo from around 1984, the bin can be seen in the bottom left-hand side of the picture |
5 comments:
Hi Kid,
I have a similar affection for my old primary school, which I not only attended as a pupil for 7 years, but also attended for Sunday School and Friday nights for the local Boys Brigade (EK 9th) until I was 17 years old.
A couple of weeks before the school was scheduled for complete demolition in Summer 2008, I sneaked inside early on a Sunday morning, through a door that the workmen had left unlocked. There was a security guard on site, but I assume he was sleeping in his portacabin parked in the juniors playground. I enjoyed a final extensive tour of my old school and took plenty of photos. I also tore a large strip off the stage curtain (one side of the double set had been left behind) that had been the backdrop for numerous class school photos and now covers the window in my comics/music room at home. Finally I used a workmens ladder to gain access up into the tank room at the top of the four storey school block and went out onto the roof for a panoramic view of the surrounding area and recorded a 360 degree video on my phone for posterity.
When I think back to that surreptitious visit I am filled with a tremendous feeling of wellbeing, pleased that I took the opportunity for that last visit to a place that held so many treasured memories.
So Kid, I completely understand the similar feelings you have for re-visiting your old haunts.
Cheers,
Duncan
I've previously mentioned that in December I went to see a new primary school built on the site of my demolished former SECONDARY school and I also visited my old primary school, now closed and boarded up. It was a fascinating experience to revisit the past but I didn't take any mementos with me and I won't be doing it ever again.
Fascinating story, D, and similar to my own experience which you can read about in a post entitled 'The Day I Was Absolutely The One And Only Person In School...' On a previous visit, though, I wanted to go up on the roof, but the council guy showing me around said he wasn't allowed to let me. However, several years before, I'd taken a series of photos of a playing field next to the school from the top floor, which, not that long after, had amenity houses for the elderly built on it. So at least I got a high view of the surrounding terrain before it changed forever.
******
Wouldn't you like to see what becomes of your old primary school, though, CJ? Do you know if it's due to be demolished or adapted for other use? If you ever find out, let me know.
When I was around 7 or 8 years old, I often used to take some small knick knack from home with me to school. Never a toy or book or anything, but usually just something small enough to fit in a pocket that wouldn't be noticed til I could put it back when I got home. The one I used most often was a small dog ornament.
I think the reason I did it was just to feel a connection with home. Even though the school was less than 1/4 of a mile away!
I've sat on the above comment for awhile because it was anonymous. Crivs, please adopt a regular name for yourself with which to end your comment if you don't want to use your real one, so that I can distinguish between different anons. Doesn't anyone read the conditions above the comment box?
Post a Comment