The journal of a Yorkshire lad from the age of 17 in 1973 through several decades .... Transcribing from handwritten volume to blog may take some time ...
20110315
Monday July 19, 1976
Overcast, miserable day. Go to lunch at 1pm and purchase a pair of boots I took a fancy to the other day. They cost £17.99 - the most I've ever paid for footwear.
The afternoon is one of nail biting and is passed with much trepidation on my part. Dentists are not my favourite professional people. By the time it comes for me to vacate the YP building I realise just what the Angolan mercenaries must have gone through prior to been dragged out into the street & disposed of.
It wasn't bad at all really. The waiting is the agonising bit. No doubt Colonel Callan was in the same frame of mind as the shots rang out.
Home on the 6.30 33 bus and meet John parked outside the chemist with a pained expression on his face. The car had ceased to function. Maria emerged from the pharmacy and had hysterics over my new boots. She could not believe that I had actually bought them. I pushed the car down onto Park Road - John steering the vehicle and Maria jogging along side - making ribald comments about my car-pushing capabilities. The car did start, and I was home for 6.30. The numbness had worn off by 8 o'clock and I did manage to have fish and chips a couple of hours later.
Ring Lynne at 10.30.
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