Sunday 18th October 2009 - A Weekend Visit to Glasgow

          The leaves are now cascading down.  The Fall is in full swing.  It is still, however, unseasonably cold.  We are getting quite heavy morning frosts.  The New England Patriots game (football) near Boston last night was played in snow.  Not just a "dusting", or a "flurry", but heavy stay-on-the-ground snow.  It's not typical, they say; it's  going to get warmer next week, they say.  But it's still a sign of things to come.  Next time Rozzie sees a Florida plate, he'll be off after it.

 

          I took an extra coat, and headed down to Glasgow.  Basically, there was nobody there, except for the dogs.  When I parked and got out, I thought for a minute I'd walked into Battersea Dogs' Home.  But I didn't see any people.

          One of the elderly 'Nodding Donkeys' dotted about here is in Glasgow, and it was running.  When I left, it had stopped, so somebody must have appeared to switch it off.  Or perhaps it pumps up a collecting residue, and switches itself off.  It was about the only sign of life.

          I knocked on several doors around the Irish flag on the flagpole in the centre of the village.  I eventually got a dog to answer the door.  It was in the arms of a young man who fetched his mother: "What do you mean, 'Irish'?" she said, "It's Italian.  My husband: he's Italian".  She meant this, of course, in the American sense: he had an Italian name, which his ancestors brought here five or six generations ago.  She insisted it was green, white and red, but it wasn't: it was that funny rich yellow of the Irish flag.  Still, there are plenty of Italian immigrants in Glasgow Scotland, though possibly not from quite so far back, so it wasn't all that inappropriate.

          Just out-of-town to the south, was something which had the authentic Glasgow Scotland feel:

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but they pronounce it quite differently.

 

          Glasgow is in Madison Township.  The next township south is Yellow Creek.  That seems to be where the church (I think it may actually be a 'kirk') is.  Some histories describe this church (or its predecessors) as being in Glasgow.  Certainly the minister, writing to Civil War soldiers, datelined his letters "Glasgow".  Almost every stone in the cemetery which looked old said on it "a native of Inverness, Scotland".  A fair number also said "McBane".  But there were only two 'McBeans',  and none of the dates or wife's names fitted. 

 

          The elections are now only a few weeks away, and in Glasgow there was a touch that is probably quite common in rural America.  One of the roads is called Crews Road.  And directly opposite the name sign, where it joined the main road, was a sign exhoring us to vote for George Crews for Township Trustee.

          It being Sunday, there was no later that night.  I'm not sure whether that is the state or the county, but it let me catch up on my reading.