ON the night of the Grosvenor Hotel fire in January 1978 ("Those were the days", The Herald, June 25), we were living in adjacent Kew Terrace, and at the sound of shattering glass I went outside.
Flames poured from a lower window of the Grosvenor, and just then – this was during the firemen’s strike – a Services Land Rover bounced in over the grass from Great Western Road, naval officer in the passenger seat, and the White Ensign flying aloft. He turned out to be in charge of the fire, but couldn’t find the way into Grosvenor Terrace.
Green Goddess fire engines, vehicles that had been stored by Civil Defence against threat of nuclear war, lined Great Western Road, though sometimes the pressure from their canvas hoses barely reached the eaves. During the night (few of us had very much sleep), I looked at the hoses, and was surprised to see them date-stamped “1962”. In daylight however, this turned out to be “1952”.
For us residents, it was a night when we opened our homes to all manner of people, and their valued possessions. Our front room rapidly filled with cherished items – I remember pictures, a filing cabinet, curtains, furniture, a record collection, boxes of papers and – of all things – a TV (about the last thing anybody needed to save). With their home in Grosvenor Terrace threatened, a mother and son stayed overnight with us.
Two days later, our front room emptied again, with all items finding their correct owners.
As the fire took hold, a couple in their flat at the opposite end of Grosvenor Terrace held open house. When I entered to ask if I could offer storage for possessions, there was a drinks party in full swing. “We’re draining the house of drink,” declared the wondrous West End matron. “We need nothing saved, and we have all our insurance certificates looked out.” Patting her handbag, she winked at me and stated: “Fully prepared – two spare pairs of knickers in here”.
Gordon Casely, Crathes.
You’re having a giraffe
WHAT a terrific photograph of the two giraffes on the front page this morning ("Back to work at the safair park", The Herald, June 30). The one on the right, slack-jawed and with eyes popping seems to be surprised: "Oh, no! Look, they're back" , while the other, eyes heavy-lidded and with a slight curling of the lipm manages to emanate weariness, a touch of disdain and a look that says: "Told you mate and I hate to say it, but I was right. Again." All human life is there!
Patricia Allison, Glasgow G46.
Zooming in
WHEN some video call interviews on TV become boring, I find myself looking at the background of the interviewee.
Matt Hancock, presumably with an eye to a knighthood had a pop-art print of the Queen on his living room wall; one of the BBCs media correspondents had an impressive wall of DVDs, many people have gone for the"look at me, I’ve got a lot of books" background, hiding their Mills and Boon or Jeffrey Archer collections behind some scholarly works.
One academic had a university banner in his living room, like everyone has one of those, and some have gone for the plain white wall which they obviously thought was minimalist but ended up looking like they’d just moved in.
Perhaps there’s a business opportunity, hopefully short-lived for media companies to advise on home interview set design.
Stuart Neville, Clydebank.
A Handy solution
MY congratulations to Professor Ravinder Dahiya and his team on their budget friendly ventilator, the "GlasVent" ("Glasgow scientists create low-cost ventilator", The Herald, June 30). I can’t help but wonder if the “Clyde puffer” might not be a more marketable name? Very handy for the Para-medics?
Steven Lawrie, Troon.
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