The Uncle Charlie Stories
This section involves a little guessing game. My Uncle Charlie was a like a second father to me, but he did some eccentric things at times and I've always wanted to write some of these down for posterity. The question is, which ones are fact, which ones fiction?
The answers can be found by clicking the button at the foot of the page.
The answers can be found by clicking the button at the foot of the page.
1: UNCLE CHARLIE AND HIS FIRST CAR
Uncle Charlie came rather late to driving. He was over fifty when he passed his test at the third attempt and I can still recall cowering in his grey Morris 1000 as it stuttered around the city streets.
His car’s accelerator had just two positions – on and off – and there was a constant danger of whiplash injury – or worse, as this pre-dated compulsory seat belts. One day Auntie Ena and he were returning from church. Turning right into a busy road, he looked both ways before making a dash for it – powering straight through a Keep Left sign directly ahead.
Uncle Charlie came rather late to driving. He was over fifty when he passed his test at the third attempt and I can still recall cowering in his grey Morris 1000 as it stuttered around the city streets.
His car’s accelerator had just two positions – on and off – and there was a constant danger of whiplash injury – or worse, as this pre-dated compulsory seat belts. One day Auntie Ena and he were returning from church. Turning right into a busy road, he looked both ways before making a dash for it – powering straight through a Keep Left sign directly ahead.
2: UNCLE CHARLIE AND THE BURNING CAR
Uncle Charlie really had a bit of a chequered career with cars.
Near the Scottish Parliament and Holyrood Palace, there’s a lovely area called the Queen’s Park that contains Arthur’s Seat, Edinburgh’s highest point, a dramatic rockface called Salisbury Crags, and several lochs and ponds. A road runs alongside one of the ponds, serving as a major thoroughfare for cars journeying to the city’s east side.
One afternoon, Uncle Charlie was driving through the park when he noticed smoke coming from his car’s bonnet. Thinking quickly, he averted the imminent danger – by driving his car straight into the duck pond.
Uncle Charlie really had a bit of a chequered career with cars.
Near the Scottish Parliament and Holyrood Palace, there’s a lovely area called the Queen’s Park that contains Arthur’s Seat, Edinburgh’s highest point, a dramatic rockface called Salisbury Crags, and several lochs and ponds. A road runs alongside one of the ponds, serving as a major thoroughfare for cars journeying to the city’s east side.
One afternoon, Uncle Charlie was driving through the park when he noticed smoke coming from his car’s bonnet. Thinking quickly, he averted the imminent danger – by driving his car straight into the duck pond.
3: UNCLE CHARLIE’S SONG CYCLE
Uncle Charlie loved singing and belonged to an Edinburgh amateur choir that performed the occasional concert.
One night, the choir was performing Handel’s ‘Messiah’ at a venue where the chorus stood on a series of tiered steps. The audience sat bemused as Uncle Charlie began in front of big Jim Spencer for ‘Comfort ye’, moved to his right for “And we like sheep”, directly behind at ‘Lift up your heads’, then his left for the ‘Hallelujah’ chorus, returning to base just in time for ‘Worthy is the lamb’.
Jim kept his hand firmly on Uncle Charlie’s shoulder for the ‘Amen’.
Uncle Charlie loved singing and belonged to an Edinburgh amateur choir that performed the occasional concert.
One night, the choir was performing Handel’s ‘Messiah’ at a venue where the chorus stood on a series of tiered steps. The audience sat bemused as Uncle Charlie began in front of big Jim Spencer for ‘Comfort ye’, moved to his right for “And we like sheep”, directly behind at ‘Lift up your heads’, then his left for the ‘Hallelujah’ chorus, returning to base just in time for ‘Worthy is the lamb’.
Jim kept his hand firmly on Uncle Charlie’s shoulder for the ‘Amen’.
4: UNCLE CHARLIE AND THE HOLIDAY REHEARSAL
Uncle Charlie was the only man I ever met who rehearsed going on holiday.
The day before he and Auntie Ena were due to leave, he would pack empty suitcases into his car boot. Then, engine roaring, he would reverse down his sloping driveway into the road, continuing the turning manoeuvre until the vehicle was (only approximately) pointing towards wherever they were headed the following day.
He performed this routine at least three times until he felt suitably prepared. Passing cars simply had to swerve to avoid him, of course, although I gather that miraculously there was never an accident.
Uncle Charlie was the only man I ever met who rehearsed going on holiday.
The day before he and Auntie Ena were due to leave, he would pack empty suitcases into his car boot. Then, engine roaring, he would reverse down his sloping driveway into the road, continuing the turning manoeuvre until the vehicle was (only approximately) pointing towards wherever they were headed the following day.
He performed this routine at least three times until he felt suitably prepared. Passing cars simply had to swerve to avoid him, of course, although I gather that miraculously there was never an accident.
5: UNCLE CHARLIE, THE CAREFREE FOOTBALL FAN
Forty years ago, attending football/soccer matches was more dangerous than now. Thousands of fans crammed onto paved terracing, and some big games could develop into near-riot situations. It was often impossible to find a place to see anything of the game.
One Saturday, Uncle Charlie and I attended a match between my team Hearts, and Celtic, one of the big Glasgow teams. Arriving, he quickly grabbed me firmly by the arm and led me to a spot where we had a perfect view.
I was horrified. To our left were chanting, baying Hearts fans; chanting, baying Celtic fans were to our right. We were in the no-man’s land in between. Uncle Charlie was completely unaware as bottles and other objects flew over our heads.
The police rescued us.
Forty years ago, attending football/soccer matches was more dangerous than now. Thousands of fans crammed onto paved terracing, and some big games could develop into near-riot situations. It was often impossible to find a place to see anything of the game.
One Saturday, Uncle Charlie and I attended a match between my team Hearts, and Celtic, one of the big Glasgow teams. Arriving, he quickly grabbed me firmly by the arm and led me to a spot where we had a perfect view.
I was horrified. To our left were chanting, baying Hearts fans; chanting, baying Celtic fans were to our right. We were in the no-man’s land in between. Uncle Charlie was completely unaware as bottles and other objects flew over our heads.
The police rescued us.
6: UNCLE CHARLIE AND THE NEW CAR
On Thursday 1st August 1971, Uncle Charlie purchased a new car, a Renault 4. It was a tinny box of a car, and like others in that range it had a curious gear lever which came out of the dashboard rather than from the floor below.
On Saturday 3rd August, he gave me my first lift. We drove somewhere – a football match, I think – and as we bumped and jolted along the road home, I summoned up the courage to ask him a question that was bothering me.
“Uncle Charlie, are you aware that there are more than two gears in this car?”
He admitted that he hadn’t found them yet. Nor reverse: he’d been parking on hills and running backwards. When we made it home, a mutual study of the car manual was helpful.
On Thursday 1st August 1971, Uncle Charlie purchased a new car, a Renault 4. It was a tinny box of a car, and like others in that range it had a curious gear lever which came out of the dashboard rather than from the floor below.
On Saturday 3rd August, he gave me my first lift. We drove somewhere – a football match, I think – and as we bumped and jolted along the road home, I summoned up the courage to ask him a question that was bothering me.
“Uncle Charlie, are you aware that there are more than two gears in this car?”
He admitted that he hadn’t found them yet. Nor reverse: he’d been parking on hills and running backwards. When we made it home, a mutual study of the car manual was helpful.
7: UNCLE CHARLIE THE CLIMBER
A keen climber in his youth, Uncle Charlie climbed several notable peaks. He and five friends formed a small climbing team that scaled many Scottish "Munros" – mountains over 3000 feet – and recorded these in a series of photographic albums in which the various members were referred to by their surnames: "Smith", Jones", his own name "Ruxton", and so on. These albums are still in the family possession.
But perhaps the greatest moment in his career was a successful holiday ascent of The Matterhorn – with that same team – not perhaps such a great achievement by some modern standards, but quite something in the early 1930s. This was all in an era before modern climbing gear was readily available and even climbing boots were limited.
A keen climber in his youth, Uncle Charlie climbed several notable peaks. He and five friends formed a small climbing team that scaled many Scottish "Munros" – mountains over 3000 feet – and recorded these in a series of photographic albums in which the various members were referred to by their surnames: "Smith", Jones", his own name "Ruxton", and so on. These albums are still in the family possession.
But perhaps the greatest moment in his career was a successful holiday ascent of The Matterhorn – with that same team – not perhaps such a great achievement by some modern standards, but quite something in the early 1930s. This was all in an era before modern climbing gear was readily available and even climbing boots were limited.
8: UNCLE CHARLIE'S NEVER-SAY-DIE SPIRIT
Uncle Charlie was a remarkable man in many ways. He certainly wasn't known to give up on life. When he was 74 years old, he contracted the neurological disorder Guillaume-Barré Syndrome, which landed him entirely on his back for months in an Edinburgh hospital. (He insisted on pronouncing it "Jill and Barry Syndrome", like a husband-and-wife 1950s singing duo.)
The hospital gave him as much physiotherapy as they thought he could stand, but that wasn't enough for Uncle Charlie. Starting with the simple exercise of squeezing a tennis ball night and day in each hand, he gradually built his own strength up until eventually he was able to walk out on his own two feet.
I later discovered that he is apparently the world's oldest known person to have fully recovered to a normal life after developing Guillaume-Barré Syndrome.
Uncle Charlie was a remarkable man in many ways. He certainly wasn't known to give up on life. When he was 74 years old, he contracted the neurological disorder Guillaume-Barré Syndrome, which landed him entirely on his back for months in an Edinburgh hospital. (He insisted on pronouncing it "Jill and Barry Syndrome", like a husband-and-wife 1950s singing duo.)
The hospital gave him as much physiotherapy as they thought he could stand, but that wasn't enough for Uncle Charlie. Starting with the simple exercise of squeezing a tennis ball night and day in each hand, he gradually built his own strength up until eventually he was able to walk out on his own two feet.
I later discovered that he is apparently the world's oldest known person to have fully recovered to a normal life after developing Guillaume-Barré Syndrome.
9: UNCLE CHARLIE, THE SPORTS STAR
Uncle Charlie was a keen sportsman, right into his old age. On one occasion, aged sixty, he challenged me to a tennis match at the local courts. I was sure he would tire, but no, he had a master plan: he chose an end court and repeatedly served from way out in the tramlines into the boundary netting. I hadn't a chance.
He was less gifted at golf, and could even be a hazard. On one occasion he, my Auntie Ena and I were all playing a short hole. Auntie Ena played first, and he was in such a hurry that he played from behind her while she was still bending down to pick up her tea. The ball whistled past her ear – just – as she yelled out "Charlie!".
He got his par three, by the way.
Uncle Charlie was a keen sportsman, right into his old age. On one occasion, aged sixty, he challenged me to a tennis match at the local courts. I was sure he would tire, but no, he had a master plan: he chose an end court and repeatedly served from way out in the tramlines into the boundary netting. I hadn't a chance.
He was less gifted at golf, and could even be a hazard. On one occasion he, my Auntie Ena and I were all playing a short hole. Auntie Ena played first, and he was in such a hurry that he played from behind her while she was still bending down to pick up her tea. The ball whistled past her ear – just – as she yelled out "Charlie!".
He got his par three, by the way.
10: UNCLE CHARLIE AND APPLE PIES
Auntie Ena used to make the most wonderful apple pies, using pies from their own apple trees. Her secret, of course, was adding a little sugar to the pastry so that the whole effect was simply to die for. She could do the same trick with the rhubarb that grew in one corner of the garden as well, meaning that there was almost always some sort of fruit dessert available for pudding.
But Uncle Charlie liked the apple and rhubarb pies, too, so much so that when he and Auntie Ena entertained guests – like me – she was instructed to divide the pie by the number of people round the table, plus two. The "plus two", of course, were to be their portions for the next day.
The trouble was that Auntie Ena was too polite not to offer second helpings to her guests, and most guests found second helpings impossible to refuse. Uncle Charlie used to get quite angry as he watched his next-day-treat disappear down someone else's throat.
Eventually, Auntie Ena got the message: she made two pies at once, one for the next day.
Auntie Ena used to make the most wonderful apple pies, using pies from their own apple trees. Her secret, of course, was adding a little sugar to the pastry so that the whole effect was simply to die for. She could do the same trick with the rhubarb that grew in one corner of the garden as well, meaning that there was almost always some sort of fruit dessert available for pudding.
But Uncle Charlie liked the apple and rhubarb pies, too, so much so that when he and Auntie Ena entertained guests – like me – she was instructed to divide the pie by the number of people round the table, plus two. The "plus two", of course, were to be their portions for the next day.
The trouble was that Auntie Ena was too polite not to offer second helpings to her guests, and most guests found second helpings impossible to refuse. Uncle Charlie used to get quite angry as he watched his next-day-treat disappear down someone else's throat.
Eventually, Auntie Ena got the message: she made two pies at once, one for the next day.
