Knox Institute, Kilbirnie

 

It is great news that the Knox Institute in Kilbirnie will be restored.

Here is a picture of the man who built it, Robert William Knox:

 

 

 

 

 

The original portrait was last seen in the “Stables Museum” underneath the Walker Hall in the 1990s. I have been trying to get information about what happened to the stuff that was in there. I have asked North Ayrshire Council but Im not getting any replies except to say they are looking into it and that was a few years ago now.

There is also a lamp which was donated to the town by RW Knox and it sat upon one of the bridges. Last seen also in the Stables museum.

The River Garnock at Grahamston Avenue #poem

Flowing to a land of peace 
We watch her gentle stream
Old Churches, schools ravished by time
Reflect her gentle beams.

Starry nights and sun-filled days
Upon her granite poised
Where children played upon the bridge
O´er shadowed now with noise.

Yet peace she brings with every stone
Where faltering birds do nest
And otters with their children come
To take their peace and rest.

In her divine appointed flow 
Fear leaves no saddened thoughts 
For change is named upon her brow 
With no heightened sense of loss.

And by her banks sweet angels flow
Attending to their wards
while we stand upon the bridge alone
With only darker thoughts.

Yet sweet repose and Love are here
For all who hear her song
Far away from bills to pay
And every sense of wrong.

Her gentle flowing higher streams
Do guide us in our thoughts
to a peaceful place of mind
flowing o´er the darker rocks. 

´Tis good for us to stop and hear
Her gentle peaceful flow
While Angels pass with quieter thoughts
Allowing us to grow.

James Clifford

James, later known as Jaime (Jamie) Clifford was a 19th century protestant missionary who went from Kilbirnie Gospel Hall to Argentina. Ironically he was born in a house which sat on the present site of the Gospel Hall at Schoolwynd.

It was noticed that he had great oratory skills when he gave speeches for the Independent Labour Party. He initially attended the red kirk across from St Columbas before his religious conversion.

He became very well known in Argentina and is buried out there. Visiting Kilbirnie a few times after he left. His son Alejandro Clifford continued his work in Argentina.

His biography in Spanish is here

Youtube clip about him (in Spanish)

“Willie Mackie´s Homecoming” #kilbirnie #northayrshire #scotland

 

Willie Mackie left Kilbirnie Scotland to emigrate to the USA as many people did before him, in search of a better life. As the title suggests, this was his homecoming celebration in Kilbirnie Gospel Hall Brethren Assembly.

This photo would be from the 1930s. I’m not sure if he returned to the USA at a later date or settled in Kilbirnie again.

Remembering Abdur Razak

Memories.

One thing I always loved about Arab people is their culture. They have the innocence of Children yet the tenacity of hope. Unlike us, very cynical brits.

On the corner of Edgware Rd and Sussex Gardens London W2 during the 2000’s Abdur Razak from Libya was always on this corner defending Islam. It was a summer mission post for Christians to offer free resources to the Arabs and it became a great place to exchange thoughts and religious ideas.

As the Christians had set up a book stall, Muslims set up their own table to defend Islam right next to it.

He went on to preach at Speakers Corner every Sunday but his voice changed after an operation.

After the 2006 tube bombings, the tables vanished. The picture shows that large empty space. In these covid years its unlikely they will ever return.

I never knew what happend to Abdur Razak, maybe someone can tell me.

Poem About The Bing (Fudstone, Kilbirnie)

The bing was a huge mound of gravel and stone which was left there after the housing estate was built in the 1950s. It was replaced with a kids play area in the 1980s. The other Warriors bing in the Largs Hills was presumably called that because of where the Battle of Largs took place,

O the years upon the bing, with cousin Margaret children played,

Climbing up with all our power by Newhouse drive where people stayed,

Amid the thorns and grey cement there seemed a moment, time well spent,

And sliding down the gravel slope, I skinned my knees without a hope,

My grannie waiting at the door, with borax, plasters by the score.

O the hills we thought were steep, when now an older life we keep,

Mountains, slopes upon our minds, perhaps a bing of different kind,

Climbing o’er our darker thoughts, just like the thistles we did trod,

Lessons from the bing well learnt, of my granny’s soothing balm

O how that Love returns to me, and brings with it a sense of calm,

And behind the trees sat Warrior’s bing, perhaps a sign of future years,

With bigger slopes and hills to climb amid the darker fading years.