South Queensferry – the Ferry, it is called by those who live there – sits on the southern shore of the River Forth. The main part of the town nestles between the approaches to the road bridge across the river and that crossing’s much older and more famous neighbour, the Forth Rail Bridge. Nowadays, the town is regarded as another suburb of Edinburgh, having been gradually absorbed by the city. But back in the 1950’s and the early 1960’s, the period when these stories are set, the Ferry was a separate entity belonging to the county of West Lothian, rather than a part of Edinburgh.
The town was much smaller then, almost village-like. It was a time when the ferryboats still ran and the distillery was still working and the dockyard was in full swing. But it was also a time of austerity, when people were still recovering from the War years and many families were still poor. Saddest of all, as was the case elsewhere in West Lothian, it was a time of sectarianism, when freemasonry was powerful and anti-Catholicism was rife.
The stories here revolve around the author’s family when he was growing up in the Ferry during that time.
The town was much smaller then, almost village-like. It was a time when the ferryboats still ran and the distillery was still working and the dockyard was in full swing. But it was also a time of austerity, when people were still recovering from the War years and many families were still poor. Saddest of all, as was the case elsewhere in West Lothian, it was a time of sectarianism, when freemasonry was powerful and anti-Catholicism was rife.
The stories here revolve around the author’s family when he was growing up in the Ferry during that time.
