My earliest recollection of “Granpa Buik” was on Hogmanay 1922. My grandfather was a bookbinder and had worked most of his life with Burns and Harris. He was a well-known personality in Dundee. Long past my bedtime and wrapped up in my winter outdoor clothes, I sat along with all my maternal relations in the kitchen of my grandparents’ home in Dundee. We were awaiting a programme from 2LO, the radio broadcasting station in London.
Granpa – whose full name was David Chalmers Buik, Snr – had constructed his own colossal four-valve wireless set at a cost of £40. I’ve been led to believe it was only the second in Dundee. He had managed to complete it in time to tune in to London for a performance of “The Messiah”.
We sat shivering by his kitchen window in Peddie Street, which for reasons of frequent urgent adjustments to the aerial had to be left open, while Granpa twiddled with knobs and coils. At last, through much oscillation, variations in pitch could be heard coming from the direction of a trumpet-shaped loudspeaker. We sat spellbound although I doubt very much if Handel could have recognised his “Hallelujah Chorus”.
Radio was to become my grandfather’s chief hobby for the next few years, and after completing his huge desk-like set, he began to accumulate several sets of earphones. He placed these throughout the house, providing the home with an internal communication system as well as the amenity of not having to go to the kitchen to hear the wireless programmes.
It was a thrill for me to be allowed to stay overnight with my grandparents, but I wonder if they realised that when I was supposed to be asleep I was all agog with the earphones on, listening to the conversation of the grown-ups in the kitchen.
Grandpa had many hobbies in his lifetime. On one occasion when he had to take a business trip to London in connection with an indexing machine which he had invented, he took his sons with him so that they could visit a great exhibition in London. There they were intrigued by a display of box kite. On returning home he at once set about constructing his own models, which he flew at the “Coup”, the area upon which Riverside Drive is now situated.
His kites became the all-absorbing hobby, each one being larger and more intricate then its predecessor, until one day he was able to insert a light into his latest effort. Accompanied by an excited gathering of his family and friends, he set out once more to the riverside for the test, this time after dark. Unfortunately, the war clouds were gathering over Europe and people were becoming nervous and apprehensive.
It was, therefore, little wonder that the residents overlooking the Magdalen Green panicked at the sight of the moving light in the sky. I have been told that the headlines in the papers the following day ran: “Strange Craft Seen Over Dundee”!
One explanation of the surname Buik is that it is the old Scottish name for book, and it may be no coincidence that for generations there had been either printers or bookbinders in the family. It was due to his association with Burns and Harris that another of his hobbies – photography – was recognised in the city.
He made several of his own cameras, including a stereoscopic version, and always developed his own photographs. This camera produced two photographs which, when looked at through a special viewer, produced a 3-D effect. After he had succeeded in photographing a large silver prize cup by steaming it first, when the shine had baffled other photographers, requests for his services came from many quarters. He took a vast panoramic view of Dundee from Keiller’s tower, and D.M. Brown set aside a room for his use as a studio when he photographed the models for the Christmas and “white” sales.
He was widowed early in his life, but he looked after his seven children along for some years before he remarried. He realised that his financial resources would never allow for extended formal education for them, and so at an early age they were introduced to the wonders of nature, the thrills of anticipation and investigation, and thereby shown the way to self-education.
The Courier and Advertiser, Thursday October 22nd, 1970