I suppose that I had been unknowingly unaware of how much the Queen had infiltrated everyday life, but I had not expected all other news to be usurped by the coverage. I then reflected and realised how much she had impacted my life, as had King Charles III. My mother was exactly the same age as the Queen and I was the same age as King Charles III. My grandmother lapped up all the news about the Royal Family and instilled a sense of respect for them. My grandfather had been severely injured in the Great War and had been nursed back to Civvy Street by a nurse who then became my grandmother. He was less of a Royalist having lost the effective use of his left arm whilst fighting for King and Country. It cut short his career as a left-arm spin bowler and thereafter he was consigned to a lifetime in the cotton mills.
We watched the coronation in 1952 at my grandparent's house where we lived at the time. We owned the only television in the street, which my father had won in a competition. Most of the neighbours came to the house and packed into the small front room, Dining chairs circled the 12-inch TV and the men stood at the back as if on the terraces. It was the first view of the Queen and she dominated newsreels in the years that followed as she embraced the new Commonwealth and travelled the length of the UK opening every new major building and transport link.
I was less positive about the newsreels of Prince Charles and being told how smart he looked by my grandmother as he wallowed around with toys that we could only dream about or in locations that looked idyllic even on a black and white television set. The cameras had not even captured the joyful colours of his privileged life. Meanwhile, our street really was black and white from the tar on the cobbles, the black painted doors and window frames to the soot ingrained into the pavements. Even my dad's Raleigh bike was black as was his donkey jacket and beret that he wore as he cycled 7 miles to work every day; colour was provided by my grandad's brown trilby hat that he wore on his way to the cotton mill or Deepdale on Saturdays.
I suppose it was inevitable that I would replay my memories of the Queen, who apart from family was the only person who was a constant presence throughout my life. I first saw her when my mother took me to see her on a visit to Preston shortly after she became Queen. I was togged out in my best clothes and given a Union Jack to wave as we waited for what seemed like an age before she was driven past on a visit to the Royal Infirmary. In the 1960s when on a family camping holiday we watched through binoculars the Royal Yacht Britannia sailing up the west coast of Scotland. On another holiday on Royal Deeside. we went to Balmoral and watched the Queen go to Crathie Chuch on a Sunday. In 1988 I was in a reception line that she dawdled past during the opening of the Glasgow Garden Festival.
Thereafter contact became more frequent. In 1996 I was contacted by the Queen's private secretary to arrange her visit to Dunblane Cathedral following the shootings. I had to explain that her intention to come on Monday would clash with the first of the children's funerals and suggested Sunday instead. Some of the councillors thought I was out of order to suggest this but there was no objection from the Palace who immediately accepted the suggestion. I had been meeting the Lord Lieutenant at the time of the shootings to arrange a visit by the Queen that was 14 months away. He had informed me it took over a year to follow procedures and arrange all the intricacies involved in a royal visit. I was given two days to arrange the Dunblane visit, a tough call but it went off smoothly under the circumstances.
She did make the visit 14 months later as Colonel in Chief of the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders regiment that was based in Stirling. I was asked by the Lord Lieutenant to arrange another activity before she dined with the regiment. The Council had been keen to give two or three citizens the freedom of the town, this was accepted by the Palace but the councillors could not agree on who should be given the freedom. At the time the only freedoms were the Queen Mother and a Nuclear submarine. I was told by the councillors that I would have to devise an alternative plan. As it was the Queens' Golden Wedding, I suggested inviting her to meet with 50 couples who had also married in 1947.
It was a plan that met approval from the Palace and for 100 of our citizens, it proved a momentous day. The Queen arrived an hour late, by which time, prompted by the Secretary of State, Donald Dewar, I had served three glasses of champagne to the 50 couples. They had lost any inhibitions and the Queen enjoyed her time with her fellow Golden Wedding guests. She overstayed her visit by at least half an hour as the golden generation regaled each other with common experiences in what was for many the best day in their lives. We had got most things right, although I did worry when the firework display at the Castle began firing rockets as the Helicopter to take the Queen to Balmoral flew directly over the Castle.
The contact with the Queen's private secretary had been very positive and during a meeting in advance of the visit, he asked me about how we supported the Lord Lieutenants. On hearing that there were no guidelines and that we were largely dependent on previous practice, the experience of the LL and the various Royal support offices, he asked if it would be helpful to invite us all to an information day. A year later the Secretaries to the Lord Lieutenants were all invited to Buckingham Palace for a meeting with all the Royal support officers, after which we were given a guided tour of the Palace. I had flown down to Heathrow in the morning but because of strong easterly winds all the flights from the States were running late and domestic flights were put on hold. I arrived at Green Park underground station about 45 minutes late and when I showed my pass at the gate, a military band was marching whilst playing for a visit by the Argentinian President. I was told to wait until the band started their return march towards the palace and to walk in step alongside them until reaching the inner courtyard when I could continue as the band turned round. It was my best-ever entrance to any building.
The Queen's next visit was in 1999 to open the refurbished Great Hall in Stirling Castle. It was on St Andrew's day and the royal train was running late. Donald Dewar was now the First Minister of the Scottish Parliament and his senior civil servant told me that Donald had a meeting with Andrew Neil afterwards and that he would be late. I asked the First Minister if there was anything we could do to enable him to leave early for the meeting with Andrew Neil. Donald was unaware of the meeting and remarked that the Queen could be as late as she wanted if it meant missing the next engagement.
In 2002, the Queen came to bestow city status on Stirling as part of the Golden Jubilee celebrations and thereafter to open the Falkirk Wheel. I had been heavily involved in the bid for City Status and we arranged a walkabout outside the Municipal Buildings. I had the dubious privilege of escorting the Duke of Edinburgh, which was akin to herding a cat, he charged off and enjoyed the freedom of the city before I managed to escort him back to the Queen. By the time I met the Queen again at Buckingham Palace at the end of the year, I think she even remembered and gave me a smile although she had spent time chatting with Simon Sharma in front of me, so maybe it was just to keep me moving.
Along with a couple of occasions when she opened the Edinburgh General Assembly of the Church of Scotland, I had seen the monarch quite a few times and observed the unflappable and courteous manner in which she conducted herself on the interminable round of public duties. It was that and her genuine commitment to the Commonwealth that convinced me that she deserved all the praise that has been lavished on her. The Queen had really fulfilled 'the long to reign over us' mantra. She was for many of us the only ever-present in our lives other than family.
