GROWING UP IN DERRY

  My first memories of growing up in Derry are of my father tying a rope around a lamp-post for the kids to swing on, and how close-knit the families in our street were.

 My own family was made up of twelve kids and my mum and dad.  I was the eldest.  I always had to look after my younger brothers and sisters, which sometimes could be a nightmare, while other times I really enjoyed it.

  I used to dread Sundays because I had to take them to the swimming pool.  I would always have to find a female to look after my younger sisters in the girls’ changing rooms. I can remember how the girls would laugh at me and how that would always make me blush.

  Looking back now, I realise my childhood was very happy until I reached my teens. Then, for some unknown reason, things started to change.  I now think this was because I came from a working class family like all the families in our street.  There was never much money and not a lot for teenagers to do, so I just fell into a life of crime, drinking and fighting with the police.  

BOXING

I was 13 years old and in my second term at Secondary School.  My father was teaching a junior boxing team from the Victory Boxing Club in Agnes Street.  He had been asking me for ages to join but I always thought that boxing wasn’t for me.  Then one night I went along to see what it involved.  I stood watching the kids do their stuff on the punch bags.  My father said to me, “Put these gloves on and let’s see how you do.”

As the days and weeks passed I really enjoyed the boxing.  My mother took me down into the city centre and bought me shorts, top and training shoes.  I thought I was the ‘bee’s knees’.

From then on I looked forward to the Tuesday and Thursday nights going round to the Club.  I’ll never forget the great feeling when I won my first fight.

OOOOOOO

HAY MAKING

Some of the happiest days of my life were in my childhood.  Every summer, in school holidays, I used to go and stay at my grandfather’s farm.  I have some very happy memories of that time.

Every morning you would hear the birds sing, and when the hay was being made in the meadows, we used to play there.

We used to catch small fish called spricklies in the stream, put them in jam pots, and then released them into Tamlaght Bay, which is just across the fields.

One thing I will always remember was when the men were helping my grandfather to make hay, my grandmother would bring out a big pot of tea and sandwiches, to the workmen in the meadows.

When it came to the end of the day, before the men went home, my grandmother had a big country dinner for everyone.  Sometimes there was a singsong and good ‘craic’ before they left for home that evening.

WHOSE FAULT WAS IT?

Jimmy looked out the semicircle he had made in the steamed-up window beside his desk.  It was raining outside and he was aware of the comforting smell coming from the painted radiator, just below the pane of glass.

The teacher was calling the roll, but Jimmy was now daydreaming; in his mind’s-eye he pictured a beautiful, pure white swan.  He thought to himself how much he liked Fridays.  Every Friday morning, just after roll-call, Miss Smith would get one of the girls to hand out big sheets of paper and all the girls and boys could draw whatever they wanted.  If it was good, there might be a silver star or even a gold one.

“Jimmy Boyd! Jimmy Boyd, are you asleep?”

“No, Miss.”  Jimmy was brought back from his daze by Miss Smith’s mocking voice.

Jimmy looked around to see how many of his classmates had been aware of his daydreaming.  As Billy smirked at him, Jimmy felt his face go bright red.  He turned back to the window and once more thought of his swan, how it left a stream of ripples as it sailed through the water, with its long slender neck and its deep black eyes.

“Jill, will you give the paper out, please?”

“Yes, Miss,” and with that, Jill ran to the teacher's desk and lifted a large pile of paper, draping it over her arm.

Jill, with her long dark hair, flowery dress and white socks pulled up to her knees, began to give out the drawing-paper.  At Jimmy's desk she put down one of the sheets of paper, giving Jimmy a big smile, revealing that she’d lost one of her front teeth.  Jimmy blushed.

“Boys and girls, I want you to draw a nice picture.”

Jimmy picked up his pencil-case and pulled back the zip.  Looking inside, he found that both his pencils needed to be sharpened.

“Miss Smith, I need to sharpen my pencil.”

“So do I, Miss, so do I.”  Billy gave Jimmy a sneering look.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door and an older girl came into the classroom.

“I have a note from the office, Miss.”  She then walked over to Miss Smith and gave her a piece of paper.

For a brief moment there was quietness.

“Boys and girls, I have to leave for just one moment.  I want you all to start your drawings and, Jimmy and Billy, you can sharpen your pencils.”  With that, Miss Smith left the room with the older girl.

Jimmy jumped from his chair and ran to the teacher's desk. Billy followed.  Reaching the desk, Jimmy put his pencil into the desktop sharpener that was clamped to the side.  He began to turn the handle.  When Billy reached Jimmy, he pushed him.

“I asked first.”

“No! I asked first,” squealed Jimmy.

The two boys started to wrestle, Jimmy still holding onto the sharpener’s handle.  Suddenly it broke off.  The pair just looked at one another, then ran to their desks.  A worried silence came over the class as they waited for Miss Smith to return.

Opening the door and walking to her desk, Miss Smith commented on how well the class had behaved.  Then, she noticed her sharpener and her face grew dark.

“Who did this?”

Jimmy felt a quiver in his stomach and little beads of sweat appeared on the back of his neck.

“No one I suppose.  David, come here!”