Writing Research aka Behind the Scenes at the Crematorium

My excuse was that it was research for my WIP but it took a bit of persuasion before my hubby agreed to accompany me to the Open Doors Day (DOD) event at Craigton Crematorium in Glasgow.

The crematorium was one of over 100 buildings and over 50 walks, talks and events all completely free which were organised to celebrate Glasgow’s buildings, parks, streets, architecture,  history and people. Glasgow’s Built Heritage Festival is in its 23^rd year and allows the public access to many of the city’s most exciting venues.

Craigton Crematorium on the south side of Glasgow

I’d read a ‘Lifelines’ article in the Herald profiling the job of Harry Tosh, the Crematorium Manager at Craigton and it mentioned that the crematorium was going to be open for a behind the scenes tour during the DOD programme. As the main character in my WIP is a celebrant for the Humanist Society and frequents a crematorium as part of his work, I thought that it would be an interesting experience.  And in true Glasgow patter, it was indeed a pure dead brilliant tour (sorry, but I couldn’t resist the pun).

What would you choose as your funeral song?

We had Ian as our tour guide and the place was packed so I wasn’t the only person who wanted to find out more about what goes on before and after a cremation. We were taken to the service room to learn about the music system and that relatives can even log on to watch the service from abroad thanks to the installation of a web cam.  The most popular songs played at Craigton are My Way by Frank Sinatra, Tina Turner’s Simply the Best (popular with Rangers fans) and Angels by Robbie Williams but Ian told us that last week, he’d had a request for Great Balls of Fire by Jerry Lee Lewis. It seems that these days, anything goes with photos, videos and it is more about a celebration of life and has moved away from the traditional two-hymn service.

The service room at Craigton-complete with webcam!

I asked Ian what the worst part of his job was and he replied that he loves his work and it’s the best job he’s had but is always upset when it is the body of a child. Of course for most people on the tour, it was to find out what happens after the service that was the reason for their visit.  The first myth we dispelled was that the oven was directly behind the wooden doors where the coffin disappeared after the curtains swish shut.  In fact, the area behind the doors is a ‘holding bay’ to create a buffer between the service room and the cremating room as the equipment involved in the cremation process is very noisy and would disrupt the next funeral service.

Thankfully, a ‘live’ demo was not part of the tour!

I’m sure that I could feel that there was a nervous tension rippling through the group as we were taken to the cremating room. Ian explained that within 10 to fifteen minutes of the cremation process the coffin has burned away and all that’s left is the body.  The bit that gave me the heebie- jeebies the most was the technician’s task of using the ‘peephole’ in the oven to check how things are progressing as it depends on how big the body is before the cremation is complete.On average is takes an hour and a half and all that remains is the bones. These are then placed in what Ian referred to as a ‘tumble dryer’ with large stone balls to crush the bones and create ashes. A giant magnet is used to collect any metal in the remains and replacement joints are sent to Holland to be recycled! The ashes are then placed in a final machine which ‘hoovers ‘them to remove dust.  I’m not sure if I could’ve been so emotionally detached during a tour of the crematorium where my dad’s service was held but the tour of Craigton was utterly fascinating and dispelled common myths  such as the funeral directors buy back the coffins or that remains could ever get mixed up. Highway to heaven or stairway to hell, if you get a chance, I’d highly recommend that you go along next year to find out where the journey starts!

What’s the weirdest place you’ve visited as part of your research? I think I’ll struggle to beat a venue like the cremating room!

Oral History and why Memories Matter

Who doesn’t like to reminisce? This week I was greedy and indulged myself with a double dose of happy memories. Hubby and I went to the Riverside Museum. Glasgow’s well-loved Museum of Transport relocated last summer to the banks of the River Clyde. The trip has been on our ‘to do’ list for a while and we were keen to see the new building that was designed by internationally-renowned architect, Zaha Hadid and houses 3000 objects, each with their own story.

What really surprised me most was that amidst exhibits such as a glamorous 1910 Bentley, I saw part of my own story, a humble Raleigh RSW bike. It was the same colour and model as my first ‘real’ childhood bike.Memories of my dad sourcing the second-hand bike for me (not the one I dreamed of!) came flooding back and inspired me to write a short story about an ungrateful child (don’t know where I got the idea from!). Here’s a short extract,
“It is brown. Not candy pink or baby blue like my sister’s bike. Brown. The colour of shit. And it has a brown and green checked shopping bag on the back. For shopping. I am ten. This is a lady’s bike. This isn’t a Chopper. This isn’t cool. It’s crap.”

The following day, I ended up thinking about my dad again. I was at a workshop, an introduction to Oral History at the Scottish Oral History Centre in Glasgow.  The day’s programme included how to plan a project, interviewing techniques and I got the chance to play around with Zoom,the latest in digital recorders. Technology has come a long way since I belted, “Ma! He’s Making Eyes at Me” into my tape cassette recorder, convincing myself that I was just as good as Lena Zavaroni (I’m still deluded that I can sing!) 

The workshop made me appreciate how oral history has helped to preserve hidden histories, especially under represented topic areas and marginalised communities. The concept really struck a chord with me when I thought about my dad’s background. Professor McIvor used his book, ‘Miner’s Lung’ as an example.  The book is an exploration into the diseases suffered by miners due to their horrendous working conditions. One of the men he interviewed could have been my granda, Peter Meechan. He was a miner living in the small North Lanarkshire village of Croy and would have experienced the same brutal working conditions. No such thing as Health and Safety regulations in those days! 


Home life was just as tough too. My gran, Annie died aged 44. She had given birth to 15 children (Peter junior never survived). My dad, Archie was the eighth child of 14 and told me that in his house, “first up, was the best dressed.” And yet although my dad never played down the reality of his childhood (the wrong bike was never an issue!), the stories he told were always full of laughter. Maybe telling his own oral history he romanticised some of the details to entertain me and my sister but does it really matter? But it does matter that the history of communities like his are faithfully represented and their story is told.

I haven’t got the skills or knowledge to record the lives of the families like my dad’s for historical purposes; I’ll leave that to the experts.  But if my dad was still alive, I’d have a Zoom recorder ready to capture his special stories. It’s too late for that now. My dad didn’t leave a record of his life but he did pass on his storytelling ability. And for that I will always be grateful.

The only childhood photo of my dad.