God's Own City

I remember.....

Hearing my uncle tell his girlfriend that the Liver Birds (two famous stone statues at the Pier Head) would flap their wings if a virgin walked past, and spending the rest of the afternoon watching them in case one came. I had a vague idea a virgin was a type of horse.

I remember.....

Singing "Stille Nach" with the school choir at Midnight Mass, in the Anglican Cathedral. Feeling a pratt in my red outfit, giggling and shuffling. But then - the harmony and serenity of those adolescent voices soaring up into the echoing vaults high above us. The pure crystal of the soprano, the warm tones of the altos - the sudden total silence of the congregation, even the babies were quiet. We all felt the Miracle for a little while, then we went home to Morecambe and Wise on the telly and too many presents.

I remember.....

Baileys Night Club in St Johns on a Saturday night. Packed to the ceiling, Gerry and the Pacemakers on live, and hundreds of us singing along to "You'll Never Walk Alone". A sea of waving red flags, red t-shirts, red serviettes - even red knickers. Big burly Scousers with tattooed arms howling out the tune with tears in their eyes. And that was just the girls.

I remember.....

New Years Eve 1974. Standing in the kitchen of my flat, watching the pink flares go up from all the boats on the Mersey, acid sharp against the black sky. Hooters hooting, bells ringing, the distant sound of "Auld Langs Aye" in a strong Scouse accent echoing up from the Pier Head. The taste of cheap white wine in my mouth, someones arms around my waist, the party in the flat going from dull roar to load, sentimental singing. The feeling it was good to be in Liverpool in 1974.

Photo by my cousin Steve Dobson