| Description | Interview with Davidina B. Garden, (nee Bonner), recorded on 12 November 1993 by Myrtle Anderson-Smith and Mary Williamson
Transcript of Interview :
AS. Mrs Garden, you grew up in Huntly? Is that correct?
G. Partly, yes. I was born in Aberdeen.
AS. And were you at school in Huntly when it came time to go on to further education?
G. Yes, yes.
AS. How common was it for girls from Huntly to come to university? ... at that time?
G. Relatively common. Our sixth form at school would have been perhaps a dozen people and at least half of us came to university. Sexes about equal.
AS. And did you consider going to any other university than Aberdeen?
G. No. Oh, partly because it was local; partly because of cost.
AS. Which subjects did you choose?
G. English Honours I was aiming at, but decided on a joint degree, decided English and History, joint English and History.
AS. And did you do some other subjects besides those?
G. Yes, one had to, of course. I did Greek in my first year, for a language, Ordinary Greek, and English and History had to be throughout. Yes, so these were my three subjects in my first year. And we did, I suppose we could call it a summer term course, for background: Greek Art, Sculpture, History, that kind of thing.
AS. Very interesting.
G. Yes.
AS. Do any of your lecturers stand out in your mind?
G. Well, I suppose I must nominate Professor Harrower, who was Professor of Greek. At that time he seemed immensely old to us, of course. But he was obviously in the last stages, because he retired not desperately long afterwards. And by an interesting chance, the youngest assistant, Margaret Wood, was the sister of my Mathematics teacher at Huntly, so that, let us say, she was reassuring. Young and pretty as well.
AS. Why does Professor Harrower stand out in your mind, do you think?
G. Physically he was a large man and rather formidable, and he had the very formal style that I think a lot of professors had in my day. We did not feel near them. We felt they were distant, Olympian, apart. There wasn't an easy va-et-vient, that I was aware of. Perfectly polite and civilised, but remote figures.
AS. I understand that Mrs. Harrower took an interest in the students. Is that correct?
G. Not to my knowledge.
AS. Or was active amongst them?
G. I expect the Honours students, but I was doing it as an extra, you see, with another degree in mind.
AS. Yes.
G. This was first year. I shouldn't think first year students would have figured at her tea parties. It would be more like the Honours group, I fancy. Yes.
AS. And what about in the English Department?
G. In the English Department it was another personality: Professor Adolphus Alfred Jack. And different, because, I think because he had a keen sense of humour. And though quite Olympian, too, was more human, less formidable. He was interesting in appearance, because, though again he was an elderly man, he had an enormous, shock of reddish hair, turning grey, but the red was still red, which is unusual in age. Of course, at that age, I was seventeen, and practically everybody over twenty seemed old to me, but he was, he was an elderly man. And he flung it back. The only person I can think of who does that nowadays is Michael Heseltine. Great mop of hair, and he would flop it back. He was witty, as well.
AS. What were his specialities, in his teaching?
G. Well, I don't know if I know that, precisely. He wrote a book on - it used to be in the house, but I can't find it. Really, essentially, he was considering prose and verse and their different uses and values, and the first sentence, I think I remember, was "Prose is humanity talking and poetry is humanity overheard".
AS. Well done.
G. Now that was rather typical of him: a capacity for neat epigram of that kind. His voice, too, I remember very well. He began a lecture on Keats - I think that must have been my Junior Honours year - I remember it, too - he fixed us with an eye and said- he was quoting, of course: "These Kirk men have done Scotland good; these Kirk men have done Scotland harm"; which is the opening of a letter by Keats after he had been in Scotland. But you see he had, and I think this is just coming back to me, drama; definite sense of drama. And he transfixed us with this. He didn't say: "Good morning", or any opening. This is what we got thrown at us: "These Kirk men ..."
AS. Did he and Mrs Jack take an interest in the students?
G. Only at about the Honours level, yes, and we'd be invited to afternoon tea and chat. But most of us regarded it, I think, - though they were charming and chatted - as being on our best behaviour. There was very little unbending, really, even over your scone and strawberry jam.
AS. How many were in your Honours class?
G. I'm not absolutely certain, because one or two came in at the last minute, oh, left over from the last year. If I say about twenty-two that should be fairly correct, I think, of whom eight were girls, so the balance was all to the men.
AS. And what about in the History Department? Who do you remember there?
G. I began with - they all retired shortly afterwards, I'm beginning to wonder why - Professor Terry.
AS. Was he a memorable character?
G. He was charming, I must say, in a way that the others weren't. I'm not quite sure of his nationality. I think the others were Scots. I think he was an Englishman. The kind of question we didn't ask them, but that seems to stick in my mind. And, he retired in my Junior Honours year, to my great sorrow, because I got on very well with him, so that fixes that, I should think. He must have been in his sixties, at least. They weren't absolutely tied to age-sixty-five out-you-go bit. No, they - it was a little elastic. Some would have gone on. So I'm saying sixties, because I can't be more exact.
AS. Who took over from him in your final year?
G. In History, Professor Black.
AS. And Professor Terry, of course, was a musician, too. Did you have any experience of him in that role?
G. Not as a musician, but he was enormously interested. And I did go to see him - I wanted some advice, I forget what about now, some minor point - and he invited me to tea, at his home. And I found that a very easy encounter. He was chatty and informal, in a way that was not common.
AS. So you didn't get involved in his Choral Society?
G. No, I'm afraid I don't have a good singing voice at all.
AS. Were you involved in any other societies?
G. Oh, principally the Literary Society, and the Debater, we all went to that, because it was fun and games, including choral singing, of a not very high standard.
AS. Can you tell us something about the Literary Society, the type of programme they had? what was organised?
G. Well, mainly, as it suggests, literary subjects. It was left to the speaker to choose. And, generally speaking, it was run by the fourth year, and you weren't really asked to give a talk, you might be asked to give half a talk, in other words two of you, about the third year. But most of us waited until third and fourth year until we were asked to give a paper. In the - yes, that's right - fourth year usually, you were given the floor, for whatever you fancied to say. In the third year I think I divided the evening with someone else, whose name I'm afraid I can't remember now. Generally speaking it was the property of the English Honours group, really. They ran it and organised it. The subjects were wide. We didn't stick to our curriculum for...
AS. ... sharing other interests...
G. modern stuff, anything at all that one fancied, in discussions and so on. But it was one of the things I much enjoyed.
AS. Are there any papers given there that stand out in your memory?
G. I really honestly couldn't say that.
W. Are there any figures attached to the Society that stand out in your memory? Any leading lights?
G. Now, Harry Shewan must have been a president about my first year or so; I remember him, because actually he was doing modern languages, but was interested in other things. He became a lawyer and barrister later in life. I think I remember him, because one remembers the Olympians, you know, of the fourth year. When you are aiming at Honours in the first year, they were the great ones. Now I can name some of these to you, and you will know some of those names: John R. Allan.
AS. Yes.
G. Ian Macpherson, Betty Macpherson (who was Betty Cameron, of course, in those days), - I'm trying to remember any others.
AS. Was George Bruce a contemporary?
G. He's older than I am, but junior to me at university. I don't know why. It's one of those things. He repeated a year, or switched, or something or other. I know him quite well, of course.
AS. And, well, we know that you were friendly with Helena Mennie, and, I believe, Olive Fraser.
G. Olive was in my Honours year.
AS. Perhaps we can come back to that later on ... in more detail.
G. Yes; Yes.
AS. Did you get involved with Alma Mater? did you contribute?
G. The odd contribution. Not a great deal, I'm afraid. No. Scraps of verse and prose. Mainly anonymous, as far as I remember, because I didn't have a very high opinion of my own efforts.
W. What was the general opinion about Alma Mater at the time?
G. I don't quite know. I don't quite know how to answer that. … We all read it, but we read it really sometimes to see our own names; sometimes to get the gossip a little, you know. Sometimes for the fun and games, little anecdotes, and so on. Somebody wrote a bit of doggerel, which was obviously governed by his desire for rhymes, and he had been studying the book we always had to sign when we went into university. I don't know if this was still going on in your day.
AS. Matriculation register?
G. No. No, no. As you went in, just to study, or anything of that kind, you entered your name; you wrote your name, just in the book. I don't know when that was discontinued, but we always had to do it. And I think this lad must have been looking at some of the entries. And all I can remember is: "Who will harp Maggie Sharp?" - one of our group; and "Who will honour D B Bonner?" Now I must have been fourth year before I appeared in Alma in a poem, you see. So I remember that. What a desperate search for a rhyme he must have had.
AS. Now you have already told us that the women were far outnumbered by the men. Have you any impression of how the women were regarded by the men?
G. That is difficult to say. We were not chummy entirely. The eight girls of us were very friendly. We were a very compact, friendly group, in and out of the classroom. And the proof of that is that two of my greatest friends in that group, still in this world, thankfully, are still in touch with me and have been across all these years, and literally across the world in one case. The men we knew we were civil to, but we didn't really know them well. There was no kind of ill feeling, but there wasn't really a closeness; something I've often thought about, because I think it was a bit unusual; I can't tell you why.
W. Did they take you seriously as scholars? or did you feel that ...
G. Oh, yes, there was no kind of / we had no feeling of sex discrimination. No. I'm trying to think of the final round-up.
Six got firsts in our group: three were women and three were men. And that we quite expected. And in a way that rather favoured us: we were the smaller group. But there was no feeling that we were inferior because we were women. No. One of the things that figured a great deal in our latter years at school was, of course, what was the Derby, the [sejour] was the Bursary Competition, because the local press published it, you know, like a horse race, and gave your school and so on, and when you seized upon it, and they gave the actual totals - or did that only come in a letter? No, I seem to remember reading them - of the marks. And really it was regarded with great interest. A contest between schools, rather than between people. You would hear things like, say, "Well, Grammar got six of the first twelve, or something of that nature," in those days. But, again, they could hardly discriminate if women led the list. Now, they didn't lead the list many times in my time, but it did happen. And if they had manifestly got the first place on merit, that was accepted. No, I didn't feel there was a kind of anti-feminist bias at all. No.
AS. And not amongst the male students either. But you didn't mix just very much in the classes.
G. No, not really, I can't say we did. But I think that was just chance, because I think in many others, well, if you think of John Allan and Betty - though he didn't marry Betty; Ian married Betty - but in the group I'm thinking of, who were fourth year when I was first year, you see, and I remember them, and I met them all in later life, there were quite a number. At least one marriage, you see, came, so that there must have been a bit of dating going on. I don't remember dating anybody in my time.
AS. In earlier years there were, I believe, parallel societies running. a men's such-and-such society and a women's one, but by your time they were all joining together?
G. No, no. Apart from things like swimming and so on, I think would still have been ... sports, would have been separate in that sense, for obvious reasons, I suppose.
AS. Was there any division between students who had come from city schools and those from the country? Did you feel any lack of mixing?
G. No. No, but I did feel - for one thing I was young, my seventeenth birthday was about ten days before I started, and coming from a small country town, I did feel a green girl; I was a green girl, and I thought the city girls were much more sophisticated, generally up to things, than I was. I think that feeling wore off a bit, but I was conscious of it in the first year. They knew everything that was going on and that kind of thing. On the other hand, the normal thing in those days was for people like me to go into digs. You did not as they do now - and it's one of the big differences, of course, today - you did not have half a dozen youngsters of mixed sexes clubbing together to have a flat, which is perfectly common, as you know. You went to a respectable widow, of suitable age, near university, because then we could walk and save money, and we were all money conscious. And she was supposed to keep an eye on us and saw that we kept respectable hours, and so on. And that was the general run for girls. But what I did appreciate was that so many of my friends had homes in town, that is to say they were girls from city schools, and I was invited to parties, and so on. The fact that they had homes benefited my social life. The other thing that we did - I've been thinking about this - and I think it's rather funny - we shopped around on Sundays and patronised all manner of churches. We went to Baptist service, just to see what it was like; we would go to a Roman Catholic service; attend an Episcopal one, and so on; before we finally settled on somebody we thought was rather interesting and stuck to him for a bit. And, in between, of course, we went to the service at King's. Yes. That, I mean, about every other Sunday we were at King's. The rest of the time we were shopping around. Which sounds odd, but it was rather interesting.
AS. It was an opportunity to do that.
G. It was an opportunity to do it, indeed. Yes, and to be aware of all these various strands ...
AS. What are your recollections of the service in the Chapel at King's?
G. Oh, I loved it; I loved King's. It was - I find it odd when I hear some youngsters now - and this is true - not happy at all, because we were delighted to be there, I think because, statistically speaking, there were fewer of us, there were fewer students vis-a vis today; but also fewer made it, because there was no automatic grant, remember, at all; if you won a scholarship, or had parents who could do it, fine, but I know a number of my schoolfellows who were university material, but couldn't contemplate it, because they hadn't won scholarships or bursaries and hadn't any other sources. So that, essentially, I think what I'm trying to say is, that we felt we had been given a privilege to be there at all. And partly because of that feeling, I think we set out in ours to make the most of it, and so on.
W. Was church-going then very common among students? You spoke about trying different churches. Was it quite common for most of the students to go to church then?
G. Lots went to King's. King's was always popular, because it was part of us, and King's was a central place. And the congregation in term time was filled with students of all kinds. I've no idea if other people did as we did and shopped around. I rather think I was fortunate because I digged with the aunt of my great chum at school, and she took us both in.
AS. So that was how you found digs? It was a personal contact.
G. Oh, very, very nice, because I was one of the family. Mary was my friend; her aunt became my friend. She had two daughters, still unmarried at home, a little older than we were. So I was part of a happy household, really.
AS. And for all your four years?
G. No, no. For the first two only, because Mrs Watt was elderly then, fell ill, and her daughters didn't want her just to have quite such a household. But she found a lady nearby, a younger woman, with two daughters about our own age, and again we were most fortunate. I don't know how fortunate our landlady was with four giggling girls around, but I remember it with pleasure, because it was easy and nice, and we remained friendly with her daughters most of our lives really. I was very fortunate in that way.
AS. What facilities were there for the students around the university? You know, for break times, for lunch times?
G. Nothing at all, that I remember. Coffee and a bun, I suppose, they could have had, but there was not anything formal at all; nothing provided by the University in any way.
AS. And nowhere ...
G. Well, we digged nearby, and it was perfectly possible to go back. All our food was included. Would you like to know what they charged?
AS. Oh, yes.
G. Bed and board for a week and all our meals: £1 a week.
AS. So you went back home for lunch?
G. Of course, of course; it was included; there was no problem of that kind. And the other problem that was solved - I can't help contrasting with today, when they go into these flats, they do their own catering, they have to do their own shopping, they have to do their own laundry - I didn't do any of that. I was perfectly free to get on with my studies. Now they are not, because they are much busier than we were with these externals. They can't concentrate in the same way. I've a young nephew, my youngest brother's son, who's an Arts students just now, and he works in one of these supermarkets to make some money, and he's in one of these mixed little flats. In order to pay for it - and they have to pay very highly - he's working all the time. And I hadn't realised, honestly, how much he has to do of his own initiative: projects, and so on. So that every hour of the day is occupied. And vis-a vis his life I had an easy time, because I could concentrate on reading, studying, researching, whatever.
AS. So you went from classes, perhaps to the Library, and then home? There was nowhere where the students could meet informally, socially?
G. Apart from the societies, no.
AS. In an evening?
G. No. There was, of course, the Students' Union, but that was downtown, near Marischal, which we didn't frequent at all. There was a women's one, but it never really figured very much ...
AS. Where was it?
G. Oh, goodness. And if I could get hold of the name of the street! Central Library, are you following me; along that way to the Theatre, and so forth; and there's a little sloping street goes up there; at the top of it there's a church.
AS. Yes, that's Skene Terrace.
G. That's right. Well, there was a house there, which had been simply a largish house, which was the Women Students' Union. But it was not convenient as far as we were concerned, living at Kittybrewster, as we were, near King's; so that it didn't figure for us. Occasionally, for a do or some things got up, we would go there, but as part of our social lives, No.
AS. Who would have used it? Do you know?
G. I know they used it. I'm simply saying, as far as I was concerned, it wasn't a social centre.
AS. Some students may have been based more at Marischal College than at King's College, then they would have used the Union more.
G. Yes, they did, because, of course, it was nearer. Oh, yes, the Men's Union was there on their doorstep to the thing.
AS. And the Ladies' Union not so near.
G. Not. It wasn't really in a convenient place for them, for any area actually.
AS. The toga seems to have come in and out of fashion several times. Was it popular in your time?
G. Yes. Yes, one of the people I remember wearing it was Professor Mennie. When I saw him around and pictures of him and Helena, who wore her toga always.
AS. But not everyone.
G. Not everyone, No. But it was perfectly acceptable. We accepted it as a thing to do. But I wouldn't say that the generality of students wore it. A smaller number. Actually it was a useful garment; it was warm.
AS. We have mentioned the Literary Society and the Debater. Were there other societies you were involved in?
G. No, I don't think there was a History Society, that I remember; I should certainly have gone to that. No, these were the two that represented my main interests and ...
AS. Had you any sporting interests?
G. Not really, No.
AS. Anything else to which you gave your time when you weren't studying? Either in the University or outside it?
G. It is rather difficult to say. Certainly nothing that figured enormously, No. We generally as a group tended to socialise together. As I said, I was fortunate in having entry into various homes, and so on; parties and dos we got up ourselves. It was generally our own small group that I remember.
AS. You obviously stayed in Aberdeen over the weekends.
G. Not every weekend, because I was near enough to get home the occasional weekend, Yes.
AS. What about the holidays? How did you spend those?
G. Well, I did sometime try to do a little work, to earn a little money; we needed it.
AS. Would that have been based at home in Huntly?
G. Very difficult. Yes, the only thing that I could do there really that was easy to do was coaching, and I did do some coaching, and earned a little money like that, but, remember, I'm talking of the beginning of the Thirties, and millions, literally, out of work. And it wasn't easy to get part-time jobs. Occasionally, men were more fortunate. My husband, for example, was a Christmas postie, because they liked to ...; you know, they needed extra for Christmas deliveries, and that was one job I remember that he did. But, generally speaking, that, and occasionally knitting a jumper for somebody who couldn't knit; I'd do that and get a very tiny fee, I'm afraid. But that was about the only way. Holidays, of course, meant that ... some family holidays around, and so on.
AS. But it wasn't an opportunity for travel abroad, like it can be now?
G. There was simply no way. I had the misfortune to lose my father three months before my finals, and that meant a very big reduction of income, and there was no money to spare at all. No.
AS. Going back to your days in the University. You obviously spent quite a bit of time in the Library. Anything in particular you recall about it?
G. Being scolded by the Librarian for talking.
AS. Many people say that.
G. Yes, they tried to regular/ regulate us - that's the word I'm after - but it was a bit difficult sometimes. Yes.
AS. Have you a picture of the Librarian?
G. Well, the person who did the scolding wasn't Douglas Simpson, who was the Librarian, but Miss Best; I'm sure her name was Miss Best, was small and grey haired and very trim and neat and bustling round and there was the long, lanky figure of Miss Brown, who was much quieter and tolerated us more. Douglas Simpson we saw come and go but he didn't bother himself about anything quite so insignificant as a little student chatter. The aspect of it now, probably by your day - you're so much younger - it was into the shape that it subsequently took looking more like a long church, with pews, than anything else, but we had the long central aisle, completely flat. You entered, you went through a turnstile, you signed, and then you went down to the English Room or the central table. It was when we went to the central table and chattered that we really got into trouble. And everybody turned, you see, because your feet sort of slapped the floor and whether you were light or heavy you sounded heavy: slap, slap, slap. It was terrible. I can picture that very well. I can see the ... and the galleries. There are still the galleries, of course, but they stood out more, because of the echoing space below. When I go into that Conference today, the bones are there, but it looks smaller because, of course, they have sliced away the hinterland for the purposes of the new theatre, and that has disappeared. The gallery shape is there, but you don't get the feeling of space that you got when you went in and it was just a clear large rectangular floor, rather ecclesiastical looking, a little ... meant to overawe you a bit, I suppose. But that's my picture.
AS. And high ladders?
G. Yes, yes, that's right: high ladders.
AS. Was Dr Simpson already then a very popular lecturer to the public?
G. Yes, Yes, I'm sure he was, because I think of him as a public speaker.
AS. But you didn't attend any of his classes?
G. Not that I remember. No, no. I don't think so. I had a full enough programme. It was a heavy degree.
AS. There was a rectorial within the period of every student being at university. Do you remember the one in your time?
G. Very well.
AS. In fact, there might have been two, were there?
G. Yes, in my first year and in my fourth year. The first year I remember because the candidate was Lord Birkenhead. I don't know if you know the name at all, but he was - he was FE Smith and became Lord Birkenhead. And the person who was the leader of the campaign for him was Catherine Gavin. And I remember her vividly because of that, as organiser, talker, as general person in authority, and she was; she really was. And he won, of course. Now what was the famous phrase about the glittering prizes. Oh, dear. Effectively the kind of speech he give for his rectorial address must have contained it, and what he was saying was the people want to be adventurous, be brave, aspire high, the glittering prizes are there for the taking, sort of thing, you know. Somewhat materialistic one, but he was an orator. He really was.
AS. I believe John Masefield was a candidate at that time. Do you remember his visit.
G. No, that must have been a previous time, perhaps. No, I don't.
AS. And the rectorial in your final year
G. Can't remember that.
AS. You'd been too busy to be involved.
G. I was, I'm afraid. My father was dying and I wasn't in social mood... Quite a number of things are blurred because of that situation at home.
AS. You've spoken about the very difficult economic situation in the country. Are you aware of anything in particular affecting life at university, anything political or social, other than the general Depression in the country?
G. This is possibly a little hindsight. We were all intelligent enough to be aware of the difficulties. But we were also to some extent sheltered. We weren't yet in the market place ourselves, and we knew we were having something that would be unique in our experience, and it was. I don't know if you two agree with me, but I felt quite strongly that we were living in a society that would never be repeated, because we were all young, by definition intelligent, looking forward, and privileged. Now, we knew the outside world wasn't going to be like that, not so stimulating, not so easy. We knew it wasn't so easy for other people. But I think we were aware of that situation not going to be repeated for most of us, in which we were privileged elite, if you like.
AS. So, when you did graduate, what did most of your fellow students do?
G. Well, it varied. One or two went to Oxford to do further degrees. One certainly went on to Cambridge. I'm thinking of our own Honours group. One proceeded to switch entirely. He did a medical course. One became a parson. Quite a number went in for teaching. In among the girls, I'm more certain - Olive went to Cambridge, ... Isobel went to Cambridge, Helena went to Oxford. Three of us went to the local Training College. A fourth went to Cambridge to train. And that sums up our eight - reasonably varied.
AS. So most of the students were getting jobs or going on to further study.
G. They didn't get jobs straight away, but quite a number went on to further study. Yes, yes.
AS. Because I've read a quotation from Helena Mennie Shire saying "of the last batch of our Honours graduates not one had a job". That would have been said in 1933.
G. Yes, oh yes. Yes, we were aware of that.
AS. So, you yourself went on to teacher training?
G. Yes, here, yes in Aberdeen.
AS. And did you get a post at the end of that?
G. No, I had to wait about two years.
AS. And how did you fill those two years?
G. Oh, relief work, was really the thing, you know, and I resorted to my coaching. I did governessing for a few months, anything that came along really. But the great advantage was that they did keep a list of likely aspiring teachers on relief work, and you were offered the chance of that, and I got enough to keep going. It wasn't easy, and I wasn't lucky, in spite of being, if I may so, a good student.
AS. A difficult time.
G. Very; very difficult, indeed. Yes.
AS. But then you did get a post after two years.
G. Yes.
AS. Where was that?
G. Inverurie.
AS. At the Academy?
G. At the Academy, yes.
AS. And were you there for long?
G. I was there till 1940, by which time it was war and I was moved, because I wasn't ask, when you signed a contract with the County, one of the possibilities was that you could be moved to another school, at their pleasure. They didn't, of course, attempt to move people like married men with children, and so on. What happened was that at Turriff Academy the head of the English department was called up because he was rather young and - there was a kind of age limit, I remember - so I was simply moved to be acting head at Turriff, so I was acting head throughout the War, in English and in History.
AS. Is your, was your husband a graduate of Aberdeen, as well?
G. Yes.
AS. Did you meet while students?
G. Yes, he told me long, long afterwards that the first time he was conscious of my existence was when I delivered a paper at the Literary Society. I wasn't conscious of his until much later! But we did meet, yes.
AS. Was he in the same year as yourself?
G. No, he was a year ahead of me. But it was just sheer chance: when I went to Inverurie to start work, his home was still there, his parents were there and he'd been at Inverurie School. And the person who was my boss, head of department, had taught him, and because he was coming home for weekends to his family, and so on, and going to functions, we met at a FP dance, an Inverurie FP dance, and I was extremely thankful to see him, because I didn't know anybody. So, at last a face I knew. And that was how at first - sheer chance - we picked up again, yes.
AS. And he was a teacher, too?
G. He was a teacher, too. Yes, he was in the English Honours class ahead of me. Yes.
AS. And you eventually settled in Aberdeen?
G. Yes.
AS. Made your home in Aberdeen?
G. And our home was in Aberdeen, yes.
Interview continues on MS3620/1/98/2
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