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Castlecary
Castlecary maps
Historic maps of Castlecary and the local area, hand-drawn by Ordnance Survey and Samuel Lewis. View all Castlecary maps
Castlecary photos
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Castlecary area books
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Memories of Castlecary
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Lanarkshire memories
Personal Memories of A Child
I was born in 1942 and by the time I was five years old I has a brother and two sisters. My mum and dad used to send me up to Longriggend for weekends and holidays, probably because my mum was so busy with the other three and anyway I loved going to Longriggend to the house where my father was born. My grangmother lived at No 90 Main Street (the house is still there) and I spent many long happy holidays in that house. I particularly remember the hard winter of 1947 when I was up at my grandmother's for a weekend and got snowed in. I don't know how long I was there but the bulldozers came every night to clear the roads. I remember my Great-Uncle John telling me that the snow was up to the height of the telegraph poles all the way down telegraph road that led to Eastfield and Caldercruix. He was my dad's uncle and was the only person I knew who owned... Read more
Miners Strike
My father (Robert Summers born Dec 1916) was 6 months old when his father was killed in Ypers. A few years later my gran remarried a miner, James MacLachlan, an ex Cameronian. My father told me a story of how, during the strike and at the age of 5 or 6, he came home from school to see the village people crowded on the street shouting and cheering. He saw his mother, holding his baby brother in her arms and wrapped in a shawl, she drew my father into her side and through the crowd he could see his step-father and another miner, who had broken some strike rule, bare-knuckle fighting in the street. He described my grandfather as being stripped to the waist with his trousers held up with a big studded belt, a belt I remember seeing him wear when I was a young child. My grandfather had challenged the man for doing wrong. He described the village as having a dirt road with miners' rows down either... Read more
My Home
I was raised in Twechar but left there when I was 8. I am now 45 and my memories are still strong of Twechar. I am very homesick still. I look at Twechar on google earth and I see the changes. I wish I could come home. I still remember all the people there, and going on a double-decker buss to school in Kirky from Twechar.
Visit to Auntie's
I remember being quite excited when Mum (Jessie Beattie} and I would take the bus from Blantyre to Glasgow and then another to Lennoxton to visit my father's sister Mary Richmond {nee Blair} and my 3 cousins Jean, Claude and Samuel. We took this route regularly. The round trip would take us all day. They lived in Janesfield Place then, and did so for many years. I enjoyed listening to the stories of their days on the farm in Twechar. My father was William Beattie from Twechar farm, Twechar. I moved to Australia and lost touch. I would love to contact any of the Richmond or Furness families. Marion Anderson {nee Beattie}
Twechar
I left Twechar for good, or bad, in 1973, and although I was happy to get out and see a bit of the world, I still remember so much about my time there.
I recall, being about 5 and kneeling on a couch and looking out the window towards the Campsies it always seemed to be raining. Yet thinking of that time still gives me peace of mind. Also summers spent up in the woods or in the glen, we could go all day on a couple of brunt spuds. I am glad to have come from Twechar, and hope everyone there is well and happy. I live far away now in a crowded hectic city, and even though I wouldn't live anywhere else, I still miss the beautiful quiet countryside around Twechar.
Bus to Kirkintillock to School From Twechar.
I came to Twechar to visit my Grandfather and Grandmother, who lived in 15 Mc Donald Crescent when I was a young lad of 8 or 9. I went to school in St Niniann's, Kirkintilloch after my Mum and Dad (John Differ) moved to Glasgow. I remember the old PUG steam engine puffing its way past their window going to and from the local collieries.
The Burning Bing
I was born in Drongan in Ayrshire, but every holiday we had we came to stay with my Gran and Papa, Ruby and Hugh Meudell. We were always so excited to be going"home." When we got out of Kirky on the bus we were glued to the windows looking for the burning bing, just outside the village. We knew as soon as we seen it we would be putting on our jackets to get off the bus, and our great holiday adventures would be starting. We would all run up the steps from the bus stop to our Gran's house in Meadowside Road and fight to see who could get in the door first and pet the cat, Trixie, who was a beautiful wee tortoiseshell cat. It was then a quick hello to our beloved, long suffering Gran and Papa and then further on up the road we would run to see our Uncle Angus and Aunt Nan and our cousins "The Meudells." We would always go first to... Read more
