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Home <> Lifestory Library <> Explore By Location <> <> <> Re-charging The Accumulator




  Contributor: John StewartView/Add comments



Memories of a childhood in wartime Leith. The trials and tribulations of the period, allied to the camaraderie of the community in facing up to an uncertain future made a lasting impression on John Stewart.

As we were without electricity, we depended upon a high-tension battery to operate our old wireless. As well as this, an accumulator was also required.

How many children like myself had to carry an accumulator to the local radio shop for re-charging? A large oblong reinforced glass containing a cell and acid, it was carried in a metal frame and swinging handle.

'Mind how you go' I would be warned. Wearing short trousers, no jeans in those days, I had to be very careful in not spilling the contents onto myself as I swung it in its frame.

Often the acid would lap over the top and trickle onto my legs. I didn't suffer anything more than a tingling burning sensation, but often holes would appear in my woollen stockings.

The radio was our only domestic entertainment during the long dark nights of the blackout apart from our box of dominoes. I recall yet the old couple sitting back and chortling at what was coming out of the speaker.

I would be sitting on the carpet playing with my toys or else reading my Beano or Dandy comics, my favourite reading matter at the time. My mother used to collect them from McEivogues, the newsagent in Great Junction Street. She would drop them off each morning on her way to her work.

During other evenings we would play dominoes or snakes and ladders. I would sit on the table during these games.

I remember that even during the war, we always had plenty of reading matter about the house. 'The Peoples Friend', 'The Weekly News', 'Peoples Journal', 'Edinburgh Evening News', 'Sunday Post' and the 'Kelso Chronicle'. The last named kept the old couple in touch with their hometown of Kelso that they had left at the turn of the century.

My grandmother, or grandma as I affectionately called her, was a very stout person with long silver hair done up in a bun. Her dress was always the type that draped around her ankles, mainly of a dark hue and the ubiquitous pinny, so typical of the time, topped this off.

I loved to stand behind her on a chair by the fireside and brush her hair as it fell down her back.

Meanwhile my granddad would sit at the other side of the fireplace and spit at the fire as he puffed at his pipe.

'Will you stop that?' she demanded.

'Never miss' was the reply.

Even as young as I was, I would chuckle at this repartee. I could detect neither malice nor grievance in these exchanges. The affection they showed for each other even after forty years of marriage was obvious even to me. I loved them both.

John Stewart, 2001
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