Livingston in the 1970s

Posted on February 28, 2013 by jennifert

I have been cataloguing the archive of the Livingston Development Corporation for eight months now. The collection is great on the technical detail, on the why and how the town was built, on who made the big decisions, but sometimes you get the hankering for a personal touch – a view of the town that has an opinion. Because the Corporation was, well, a Corporation, much of its documentation can be a little dry, efficient, business like and very much to the point – and even, dare I say it, a little self-congratulatory.

However, a couple of months ago, whilst cataloguing the records of the Housing Department, I came across the “Reports of the Assistant Housing Visitor.” They don’t sound that promising, but these turned out to be almost diary like entries made monthly by two or three women employed as Assistant Housing Visitors. From 1970 onwards and through the 1970s these women (they were all women) visited new tenants in the town and make sure they were settling in okay, to ask if they had any problems or any issues; and, unfortunately an all too common a problem, to help them find ways to pay their rent arrears. They ended up acting, in a town with limited community facilities and services, as quasi-social workers.

These reports, far from being brisk businesslike collection of stats and targets, give a wonderful insight of Livingston in the 1970s, and of the problems the community faced and overcame. For example, something that I come across time and again is the problems caused by dampness in Corporation housing, this arose due to poor industrial construction techniques when building vast quantities of housing in a short space of time. I’ve come across a good many technical reports as to why the dampness happened, but in the visitors reports the issue is made far more human.

“The main complaints come from tenants in Bison flats who are “humbugged” by “dampness”. In most cases they are using their storage heaters properly and keeping their windows open slightly as they have been instructed – this does not seem to cure the trouble.”

The Corporation, in the early days, was reluctant to accept that their choice of building construction was to blame, and instead chose to tell people that because they had never used central heating before, it was their fault the wallpaper was hanging in damp shreds off the wall.

Another related issue was the cost of heating. Many of the early houses in Livingston were installed with electric storage heaters when electricity was cheap – then electricity prices rocketed. This was a pressing concern for many years (and one it looks like we are all going to have to face again). In 1972 the housing visitor wrote -

“There is a great deal of concern and anxiety among tenants over electricity bills. In many cases, money is not saved towards this bill at all – it is the ‘great unknown’ and panic ensues when it arrives…. for most people… the main problem is the insecure feeling caused by a large, long term fluctuating bill. The cards provided by the SSEB for calculating weekly costs are not widely used… most because people people would not really believe them or do NOT want to know about their bills, hoping they will be smaller when they arrive. “

In 1974 the visitor recorded that -

“I found that a great many of my tenants have solved their fuel bill problem this winter with some ingenuity. Several tenants living in the area arrange to visit one house for two days, then another house for two days, the person they visit has a warm house whilst the visitors can leave their heating off.”

Despite this novel solution, however, the cost of heating remained an issue for many years. In March 1977-

“It is generally accepted that this is the most quarrelsome time of the year and this is assuredly born out by the number of tenants who have sent for me because of family feuding, not necessarily about rent arrears, most because of the excessively high gas and electric bills… whilst Mrs is wondering how on earth she managed to accumulate such a bill, Mr is wishing he never got married, or blaming her for being extravagant.”

There are several more entries in the reports about this issue, it dragged on for years – however, the reports provide such a breadth of insights into life in the 1970s, it is worth moving on. There is another area of insight that the reports can give – into the social and economic mores of the time.

“It is now obvious that a percentage of women work either part time of full time and that it is not possible to make contact with them during working hours.”

This was a time when it was still thought that men were the breadwinners, and women were the housewives, though times were a-changing. But even then, there were obvious issues with unemployment in the early 1970s.

“It would appear that there is a shortage of jobs for the under twenties as well as part-time work for women and according to tenants, the Department of Employment & Productivity hold out very little hope of any immediate improvement. Two cases of men having given up their jobs to move to Livingston came to light. This could be a mounting problem with all its attendant difficulties.”

And, by 1977, problems with inflation –

“this past year has been one of inflation and its attendant problems. After dealing with rent arrears problems last winter, I suggested to tenants that they should try to keep their rent a little in credit each month to try to help out with the problem months… it would be wise to stock up… as a buffer against the winter and the increased prices.”

The reports also record an issue that was unique to New Towns. The New Town Blues. Because The main reason people moved to Livingston was “high standard of housing provided by the Livingston Development Corporation, probably the main reason why families choose to come, and remain in Livingston.” Housing in Livingston was newer, cleaner, warmer and better than the old slums and tenements of Glasgow, where many had come from, but these people left behind established communities to move to a town that had only existed since 1962, the first residents – “the pioneers” – moving to Livingston from 1964 onwards, moved to a building site, a place of “dust in the summer and mud in the winter”. It was a town that had no established community; no established groups or societies; no cafes, cinemas, parks, or sports fields. Loneliness was rife.

“I have been discussing the problem of loneliness with quite a number of tenants. This problem is known as the New Town Blues and is widely recognised. Its avoidance lies in the development of a sense of community.”

This is something that the residents of Livingston tackled with relish. From zero in 1964, by 1973 there were two hundred and thirty clubs and societies, one for every 100 residents in Livingston. Community spirit in Livingston had flourished.

Finally, as well as the ‘big picture’ the reports also capture the smaller details that show that perhaps life doesn’t change as much as we think –

“Another dangerous game of the children’s is to get boards and slide down the steep grassy slope from Eden Drive to the main road near the bus stop. I have seen children rolling down the slope which is quite steep and stopped my car to shout at them. One false move and these kiddies are straight under a passing car.”

Or, taking a break from work for a relaxing thirty minutes,

“the light entertainment of the month was caused through a tenant who had a hive of wild bees in her garden, these have now been removed by LDC… however I spent a quite pleasant half an hour watching the bees at close quarters, from the number of bees and the size of the mound I imagine it was quite a large hive.”

This remark attracted an annotation from the housing visitor’s boss Leslie Higgs, “Time available for this?”

Bosses are bosses, I suppose, no matter the decade.

The Housing Visitor Reports are the subject of an ongoing blog about Livingston in the 1970s which can be found at http://newtownlivingston.blogspot.co.uk/

Aidan Haley, Project Archivist (Cataloguing), Livingston New Town: From Plan to Community, 1962-2012.

The Mauricewood Disaster September 1889

Posted on February 14, 2013 by kenb

Mauricewood Colliery from the Illustrated London News

On 5 September 1889, the Mauricewood Colliery near Penicuik was the scene of the worst mining disaster in the history of the Lothians. An underground fire claimed the lives of 63 workers, including some as young as 13-years-old.

Following the accident, a Mauricewood Disaster Relief Committee was established in Penicuik to care for the dependents of the deceased. The committee was comprised of important local worthies, including the adventure novelist SR Crockett who was then a minister of the Free Church in Penicuik.

The Reverend SR Crockett

The Relief Committee raised money to help those who had been bereaved by the disaster. It is worth remembering that there was no welfare state in the late nineteenth century. As a result of the disaster, many households in the Penicuik area lost their only wage earner and would have been left destitute if the committee had not intervened.

The original minute book of the Mauricewood Relief Committee has recently been donated to the Penicuik Historical Society. It is a fascinating document that illustrates Victorian charity and welfare provision in action.

The Victorians have a reputation as being stern and uncaring, but the minute book suggests that, in this case at least, they were surprisingly sympathetic and compassionate.

Money for the disaster fund was raised by voluntary donations. The relief committee, which was entirely unpaid, began their work by compiling a list of victims of the disaster and the names of their dependents. It was calculated that 96 children had lost their fathers. Financial support was given to widows, children up to the age of 14, and to elderly parents who were unable to work for themselves. Pregnant widows received money for their unborn babies. A doctor was employed to administer to the medical needs of bereaved families.

However, there were also strict rules about who could receive support and not every application for assistance was granted. For example, widows who had started work or remarried were immediately cut off.

The original minute book of the Mauricewood Relief Committee was received in a poor condition, but it has been professionally restored and is now in the care of the Penicuik Historical Society. An electronic scan of the book has been prepared and can be consulted in Midlothian Local Studies in Loanhead along with other information about the disaster.

The Official Report on the Mauricewood Disaster

Rosewell Village

Posted on March 28, 2012 by kenb

The village of Rosewell in Midlothian grew-up around the coal-mining industry. Mining had been taking place in theMidlothianarea since medieval times. Monks from Newbattle Abbey were known to work the local area. Whitehill colliery in Rosewell was owned by Wardlaw Ramsay. It was situated at the top end of the village where the houses ofRosedaleand Fairmeadow are now. In 1856, Archibald Hood, an engine manager, acquired the lease for Whitehill Colliery from Ramsay. Hood modernised and extended the workings of Whitehill and extended the railway to service his pits at Carrington, Eldin, Gorton, Polton and Skelty Muir. Hood also improved the social conditions of the miners. Houses were built to accommodate workers and their families. The houses were built in a hierarchal system with managers and foremen having bigger houses than the ordinary mine worker. Unusually, every house had a garden attached to it so that workers could grow some of their own food. In 1846, the population of Rosewell was just 133 people, but by 1881 it had risen dramatically to 2129. This rise was due to many Irish immigrants coming over to find work and escape the effects of the Irish potato famine. This influx of Irish workers led to Rosewell becoming known as ‘littleIreland’.

By 1885, Rosewell had a church, post office, school and a savings bank. In 1890, Whitehill colliery was amalgamated with the Newbattle collieries, which were owned by the Marquis of Lothian, to form the Lothian Coal Company. It was at this time that Archibald Hood’s son James took over as general manager of the company. James Hood was also a Midlothian County Councillor. He was closely involved with many of his father’s projects, such as the Rosewell Co-operative Society which was founded in 1862 and was the first of its kind inMidlothian. Rosewell was known as a ‘company village’, which meant that the coal company owned and controlled every aspect of life, apart from the school and the church. The co-operative retail society was encouraged and a ‘Gothenburg’ style system was adopted with the opening of The Tavern in 1909. The coal company stipulated that a proportion of the profits from the sale of alcohol went towards the creation of the public park and community facilities, such as abowling greenwhich opened in 1901. This was a win-win situation for the mine owners as the wages that they paid to their workers were handed back at the shop and the Tavern. If a worker lost their job then they also lost their house. There were strict rules about maintaining a tidy garden and planting. Failure to comply with these meant that a worker would be brought up in front of the infamous ‘green table’ to face the consequences.

Life was undeniably hard in the early days. There was no electricity or running water, and water had been drawn from wells situated in the village streets. However, there was a strong sense of community. For example, on25 February 1892, the Rosewell Co-operative annual soiree and concert took place. James Hood was in the chair and guests were entertained by soprano singers and a ventriloquist. On21 July 1892, Rosewell Athletic Games were held in a field adjoining the colliery. Games were also held on29 September 1892under the auspices of the Rosewell Brass Band. These games included a pigeon race from Hawick to Rosewell, and there was also a trotting handicap. Rosewell had many different clubs at this time, including football, pigeon-racing and dramatic arts. By 1900, Rosewell was a self-sufficient village. Nobody really needed to venture outside of it as their needs were met. Local people worked hard and had few material possessions, but in many ways they appeared to be happy with their lot.

Written by Maureen Moffat, Local Studies Assistant

Index to Inmates of Edinburgh Charity Workhouse

Posted on March 3, 2012 by vikkik

volunteer busy at work

Thanks to the tremendous hard work carried out by our committed band of volunteers, we are creating several useful indexes to a few records within our extensive collections. The latest index to be completed relates to a Register of Inmates of Edinburgh Charity Workhouse between July 1835 and June 1841 (our ref. SL146/9/1). This index is now available on our website in the ‘Find out about records we hold‘ section, alongside our other completed project indexes for readers to search.

Background on the Edinburgh Charity Workhouse

In 1739 proposals were published for founding a hospital or workhouse for the employment and maintenance of the poor, the care of orphans and foundlings and the support of out pensioners. A contract between the Town Council and kirk sessions was agreed in 1740 setting the terms of the foundation of the Edinburgh Charity Workhouse. The Workhouse was funded by donations and subscriptions, from an assessment levied on householders and an annual grant from the Town Council. It was to be managed by an executive committee of 15 managers.

The Workhouse opened on 20 June 1743 atBristoPortnext to the Bedlam for lunatics. The original Bedlam was used as an infirmary for the sick and as a children’s hospital. A new Bedlam was built in 1746. The Bedlam was partly demolished in 1836 and the lunatics were moved to the Children’s Hospital. The children were moved to the oldOrphanHospitalunder theNorthBridge.

The passage of the Poor Law Amendment Act in 1845 led to the foundation of Edinburgh Parochial Board. The Parochial Board assumed responsibility for the Charity Workhouse, which became the Edinburgh Poorhouse. The Craiglockhart Poorhouse and Hospital replaced the Edinburgh Poorhouse in 1870 and the Charity Workhouse buildings were demolished.

Index to Register of Inmates

The Register of Inmates and Index

The Register itself is divided in to three main sections relating to the House, the Children’s Hospital and the Bedlam. The index now online is a consolidated alphabetical list of all inmates from each of these three divisions. You can simply do a free text search within the index and see if any of your ancestors were inmates during this period. If you find someone you can pop in to our public searchroom and request to see the register to check for any further information. For more information on our opening hours and where to find us see our website www.edinburgh.gov.uk/cityarchives

A Policeman’s Lot…

Posted on February 23, 2012 by peterc

Archives, though often mentioned in the same breath as museums and libraries, and though sharing some similarities with them, are different in several ways. One crucial distinction is that although museums hold original & unique artefacts, the public are seldom allowed contact with these; libraries on the other hand do allow handling of their holdings by users although they do not usually possess unique items. Archives not only hold original and irreplaceable items but also provide ‘hands on’ access to their users. This presents more difficult problems with preservation and though digitising records and making them available online is one solution to this dilemma, it is an expensive and time-consuming option. Consequently, the favoured answer for many archives, when money allows, is for the most severely damaged and worn items in archival collections to be professionally conserved.

ECA has been very fortunate in these financially-straitened times to have been awarded a considerable end of year sum for just this purpose. Our holdings of Lothian & Borders Police records – an important and extensive collection – is about to receive some long overdue TLC. This contains, among other things, some excellent personnel records which have been well used by both academics and genealogists in the past and some items, such as a series of ‘Weekly Records’ (ED6/5) which are an ongoing log of promotions, punishments and resignations within and from the Edinburgh Police Force.

Opposite is an example of the poor state of some of this series and a volume which is so badly water-damaged and fragile that it is currently unfit for production to the public. When conserved this, and several other similar volumes will once again be available to the public in our search room. One comparable volume in this same collection – a ‘Conduct Book’ covering the years 1851-1901 (ED6/8/3) was conserved some time ago, keeping as much of the original volume in tact whilst repairing the most damaged parts. Now, its rich treasure of the records of careers of generations of 19th century policemen in their impressive – and in some cases, not so impressive detail – is accessible once again to the public.

To give some insight into its content it can be said that although the promotions through the various grades of police officers and their salaries are useful genealogical details, it is perhaps the record of their misdemeanours and subsequent punishments which is so fascinating.

The policeman’s job, then as now, must have been a difficult and often dangerous one. This volume shows that in the 19th century at least, officers were helped through their daily trials by liberal amounts of alcohol. Even a cursory leaf through its pages is enough to show that occasions for reprimand, fine or even dismissal for being drunk while on duty could almost be said to be the rule rather than the exception on the evidence of this volume. In 1879, one Arthur Cooper, not content for merely dropping into the local on his beat for a quick pint was demoted for “…being found along with a Constable of the Section of which he was Sergeant within a Brewery where they had gone to drink.” Another constable, James Knox, perhaps under the influence himself, was reprimanded in 1899 for “…improperly larking on the public street in uniform.” What the ‘larking’ entailed exactly is not recorded!

Ronald Macdonald, though not specifically reported for drinking, was fined 1/- for being found “…sitting on a wall asleep while on duty” – a feat both difficult and dangerous to achieve one might have thought. Finally, whether or not drink was involved in a case of the double dismissal from the service of Andrew Davidson and John Mackay in 1898, or indeed if they had been on duty at the time is not recorded. The record shows however, that they were “Allowed to resign forthwith for improperly visiting a suspected brothel” – this just goes to show that immorality, as well as insobriety, were not to be tolerated within the ranks of Edinburgh’s 19th century keepers of the peace!

Thank goodness for collectors!

Posted on January 26, 2012 by kenb

Bonnyrigg Calendar 1977

Thanks goodness for collectors! You might call them daft but they are a godsend for archivists and archive collections.

Recently, Midlothian Local Studies has completed a catalogue for a collection once owned by Eric Basden.

Eric B Basden lived at 7 Leyden Park, Bonnyrigg with his wife Joan and four children. He was a keen entomologist, and a member of the Bonnyrigg and Lasswade District Horticultural and Industrial Society. He was active in local affairs and his collection reflects his interests, including horticulture, local shops, businesses, the annual Civic Week, and clubs and societies in Bonnyrigg and Lasswade.

Civic Week programme

Alex Eadie

In the 1970s and early 1980s, Eric collected a huge amount of ephemera from the Bonnyrigg area. This included advertising leaflets from local shops and businesses, political leaflets, newsletters, membership cards and calendars, even books of bingo tickets and brown paper bags. Few people would consider saving this kind of material which is normally just thrown away.

Vote for Buchanan

Fortunately, Basden kept it and it was donated to Midlothian Local Studies after his death. It provides a fascinating snapshot of life in Bonnyrigg in the 1970s, a typical Scottish town of its day.

Amongst the collection is a series of fact sheets called ‘Compar-a-cost’. These were produced by the local council in the 1970s and compared the prices of basic groceries in local shops. Inflation and rising prices were one of the big issues of the 1970s and here local people could compare prices. In December 1975, a tin of baked beans cost 11½p in Nobles of Bonnyrigg but 15½p in St Cuthbert’s of Mayfield.

Another typical item is a receipt for Allan Forrest, Grocer and Fruiterer, High Street, Bonnyrigg. Eric Basden has added a note to the receipt stating that he asked the four members of staff to sign it the day before the business closed for good (15 May 1976).

Raffle tcikets

The collection includes two scrapbooks of local small ephemera, such as bus tickets, raffle tickets, business cards and invitations.

The collection also holds some internment notices from Lasswade cemetery dating from 1916 onwards. Basden probably rescued these from somebody’s bin.

Eric Basden died in 1984, having been a Midlothian man and pillar of the local community for all of his life.

Bonnyrigg & Lasswade Official Guide

The only worying thing about this collection is that if you are of a certain vintage, the 1970s don’t seem that long ago but the decade is rapidly becoming the stuff of archives.

Midlothian and the First World War

Posted on August 25, 2011 by kenb

Bonnyrigg War Memorial in its original setting

Please help our First World War database.

2014 will mark the centenary of the outbreak of the First World War. This promises to be a time of major national commemoration and reflection.

In preparation for this event, Midlothian Library Service and Archives has started a major research project about the local area and the war.

The research project has two aims:

To record all First World War memorials in the Midlothian area.
To research the individuals named on memorials with the aim of creating a Roll of Honour for Midlothian.

The First World War had an enormous impact on Midlothian. Almost every family was affected in some way and many local men and women lost their lives.

Both during and after the War, numerous memorials were raised to commemorate local loss. Some of these are well known local landmarks, such as the memorial in Dalkeith Public Park which lists over 170 names.

There were also many smaller and less well known memorials which were placed in local churches, workplaces, schools and clubs. Over the years, some of these have been moved or destroyed.

Midlothian Library and Archive Service is seeking information on any memorials to the First World War, especially less obvious ones which may be hidden away in buildings. Some people appear on more than one memorial whilst others were never recorded although their deaths were mentioned in local newspapers. The names listed on memorials will be added to our database of Midlothian casualties.

Loanhead War Memorial

Already we have recorded over 60 memorials in Midlothian and over 1800 names have been added to our database. We have rescued one memorial from destruction and plan to have it re-sited in the near future. We are also on the trail of several others memorials that have gone missing, including the Dalkeith High School memorial, the Penicuik Free Gardeners memorial and a framed series of photographs of Bonnyrigg soldiers.

The database will become a great resource for family history and also will help to preserve memories of the fallen.

The Library Service has produced a leaflet listing town and parish war memorials in Midlothian. Copies are available free of charge at local libraries.

Midlothian Councillor Peter Boyes said: ‘I hope that local people will support this project. The Library Service recently restored the Midlothian County Council war memorial. Originally, it hung in the Council Chambers in Edinburgh, but was put away for many years when the building closed. The memorial has been re-erected in Midlothian House, Dalkeith where it is a striking feature near the Council debating chamber.’

If you know of any First World War memorials in Midlothian, please contact Local Studies on 0131 271 3976 or email local.studies@midlothian.gov.uk.

Penicuik War Memorial

Billy Purvis: a Forgotten Midlothian Character

Posted on June 24, 2011 by kenb

Billy Purvis: a Forgotten Midlothian Character

Bill Purvis (1784-1853) is now almost completely unknown but in the first half of the nineteenth century he was the most famous entertainer and circus clown in the north of England and southern Scotland.

William ‘Billy’ Purvis is associated with the north east of England but was a native of Midlothian. He was born in Auchendinny in January 1784, the son of a tailor. Family legend has it that Billy and was his twin brother John were born in a terrible snowstorm and that his father had to carry the midwife home on his back. Billy was a natural performer, and perhaps a bit of a show-off, and knew how to sing and dance from an early age.

When Billy was a child, his family moved to Newcastle-upon-Tyne where Billy was apprenticed to become a joiner. Although he completed his apprenticeship, his heart was never in it and he soon turned to performing. He was partly inspired by seeing travelling shows and performers at Dalkeith fair and by listening to the stories of soldiers and prisoners of war at Greenlaw barracks, near Penicuik.

Billy went to on to become the greatest circus clown and performer of his age. His act often took place in the open air and drew large crowds, especially at agricultural fairs across the north east and Scotland. Billy was one of the great all-rounders: he told jokes, danced, sung traditional songs and ballads, performed magic tricks and illusions, played the bagpipes and drums, and acted out short plays. He became a household name and a celebrity. His fame was such that a small statue of him, often doubling as a pepper pot, was once as common in working class households as two china dogs on the mantelpiece or a ‘wag at the wa’ pendulum clock. Billy established his own theatre company and it has been claimed that he was the first to use the term ‘Geordie’ for the natives of Newcastle.

Billy retained a great love for Midlothian throughout his life. He bought a house for two of his maiden aunts in Auchendinny and called in to see them whenever he was in the area.

Billy Purvis died in December 1853 and was buried in St Hilda’s Church in Hartlepool, where his grave may still be seen: ‘the Jester of the North’.

The Reverend Dr. James Maitland

Posted on June 9, 2011 by jennifert

The Reverend Dr. James Maitland was an influential figure in the early years of Livingston New Town. In January 1966, he was inducted as the Church of Scotland minister for the Livingston Ecumenical Experiment, in a joint ceremony with the Rev. Brian Hardy of the Episcopal Church. This bold venture was an expression of unity between the churches, and helped to foster a sense of community among the first residents of the New Town in the 1960s and 1970s. The churches shared their pastoral duties, buildings and resources, and even held joint services for their growing congregation. The Episcopal Church, the Church of Scotland and the Congregational Church were the founding churches of the Experiment, with the Methodists joining in 1968.

The Archive Service holds a collection of the Rev. Dr. James Maitland’s private records, which includes collected papers, diaries, newspaper cuttings, reports and minutes. They provide an insight into the pivotal role that the Rev. Maitland played in church and community life. He was an active figure in the development of community forums, which gave voice to the concerns of local residents and helped people to share their experiences of adapting to their new environment.

The Rev. Maitland also chaired the Leaking Flats Committee, and helped establish such projects as “Growing up in Livingston” which aimed to create a sense of community and inclusion amongst the town’s young people. His concern for education and environment is evident within the archive collection, which includes extensive notes on the subject. With the involvement of the town’s younger residents, James Maitland and others came up with innovative approaches to the social problems affecting those growing up in the New Town. Particular measures included the setting up of Neighbourhood Houses, which could act as focal points for community work.

One of the crowning achievements of the Ecumenical Experiment was the building of the Lanthorn, in Dedridge, which was officially opened in 1977. This represented a further step towards unity, because the design of the building allowed Roman Catholic services to take part in the same premises as those of the other denominations.

The Centre was built by Lothian Region Council, West Lothian District Council and Livingston Development Corporation along with the churches of the Ecumenical Experiment. In his pamphlet, Living Stones, James Maitland wrote of the spirit of cooperation that created the Lanthorn, which he described as ‘a place where people could meet easily and naturally and begin to find what life in community can really mean.’

The papers also record James Maitland’s ideas on the importance of compassion and care for those marginalised by society, and the role of church unity in the creation of community. Many of these ideas were expressed in his book “New Beginnings: Breaking Through to Unity”, published in 1998, and the Archive contains some of its early drafts. The Rev. Dr. James Maitland left a significant legacy to the Livingston community, which can be explored in his own words through this absorbing collection.