During his future years in veterinary practice, Alf developed a gentle, sympathetic approach to his customers and to his patients – a quality, one suspects, that owed little to his experiences on the street corners of Glasgow.
The fulfilling times Alf spent in his boyhood were not confined to Glasgow. He enjoyed vast numbers of holidays. In the summer of 1933, his diary relates that he went away no less than four times – to West Kilbride on the Ayrshire coast, to a guest house on the Isle of Arran, on a camping holiday beside Loch Fyne, and to Sunderland to visit his relatives. The following summer, he went to Llandudno in North Wales, to South Devon to stay with an uncle, to Wiltshire to stay with an aunt, even to stay for a week in a London hotel – and, of course, to see the family in Sunderland.
With so many uncles, aunts and cousins in Sunderland, Alf had a busy time visiting them all, but it was certainly no hardship. When he needed cheering up, his Uncle Matt never failed to brighten the day, as did his cousin Nan Wilkins, daughter of his Auntie Jinny. Nan, who was like an older sister to Alf, was the cousin he saw the most of during his life.
In addition to the time spent with his relatives in Sunderland, there were holidays spent with family and friends in the high Pennine country of northern England, Appleby and Alston being favourite locations. They all stayed in guest houses or small hotels, and photographs taken at that time show the amazing size of these gatherings. They loved the wild but beautiful country of the hills and dales; it provided a relaxed environment which contrasted so much with that around their home close to industrial Sunderland.
Alf’s parents were very different in their attitude to holidays. Apart from these breaks in the Pennine country, Pop rarely took a holiday and was quite happy to stay at home with his piano. But Hannah, a dynamic woman who enjoyed travelling, was the opposite. As a result, mother and son spent many holidays with each other.
Alf, who worshipped his mother, was fully aware of the sacrifices she was making for him. Not many women in those days contributed to the family finances but she was an exception; she was the driving force in the family and Alf felt a deep and lasting respect for her. However, their relationship was complex, one that, throughout all the years I observed them together, seemed to fall short of open affection. He rarely appeared to be relaxed when in her company, suggesting an inability to display his feelings fully towards her, whereas with his father there existed an obvious and mutual fondness. Hannah Wight was certainly a force to be reckoned with. She dominated the family home, making many of the important decisions, while Pop seemed content to do as he was told. She was a lady with many fine qualities, but could never be described as a warm person. I, myself, remember finding her difficult to embrace.
There is no doubt, however, that she thought the world of her only son – and he of her. Alf’s adulation of his mother shows in some of the entries in his diaries: ‘There’s Mother laughing just now. It is the world’s greatest tonic to me when I know she’s happy.’ The mature Alfred Wight was certainly not a cold man. He displayed, to a remarkable degree, qualities of warmth and genuine concern for others, and I feel sure that these qualities were apparent in the young Alf, too. Perhaps, as a young man, his reverence towards, and concern for his mother was his way of seeking affection from her – something she was unable to give openly in return. Alf was a boy who packed an enormous amount into his life but he never lost sight of the ambition that transcended all others. He was determined to do well at school and gain the necessary higher grades to qualify for entrance to veterinary college. And this he did. He left Hillhead High School on 29 June 1933, with a Higher Education Leaving Certificate asserting that he had obtained three highers – English (including Literature and History), Latin and French. To his amazement, he also attained a pass in Mathematics at lower level. He achieved results of 67% in English, 53% in French and 48% in Latin. His illness at the beginning of his final year decreed that he did not attain the marks in these examinations that he had worked so hard for, but they were good enough. He had achieved his goal.
He wrote in the diary on 30 June 1933: ‘What a day! What a day! I awoke this morning a poverty stricken youth and I am going to bed a rich man. This morning we had the prize giving and I got 4s 6d for being runner up in the championship. I then took my departure from Hillhead for ever. I feel sort of sorry to leave the place and all the pleasant things connected with it but, on the other hand, I am glad to have got my highers at the age of 16 years and 8 months and to be able to get on with my job. I’ll join the F. P. (former pupils) Club, of course, and keep up my connection with the school … Afterwards, Mother presented me with ten bob for getting my highers!’
His parents were extremely proud that their son had gained admission to the veterinary college, and all the relatives in Sunderland and every friend for miles around were posted with the news. One day, shortly after the results came through, the coalman was filling the bunker and Hannah could not resist telling him about her son’s achievement.
‘We’ve just had some good news,’ she said.
The coalman paused. He looked at her and Pop. ‘Aye, that’s great, Mrs Wight! Whit’s the news?’
‘My son is going to go to the veterinary college!’ she replied, bursting with pride. ‘He is going to become a veterinary surgeon!’
Bright eyes shone out of the grimy face. ‘Ach!’ he replied, ‘some tart’ll get a haud o’im!’
In one of the last diary entries written while he was still at school, Alf wrote: ‘It’s a blinking nuisance having to write this blessed book in the early hours of the morning but mebbe when I’m Prime Minister, I’ll sell the copyright for £5000!’ Little did the young man realise, as he left Hillhead High School to set out on the next step of his education at Glasgow Veterinary College, that many years later he would have a copyright to exceed all his expectations.
CHAPTER FOUR
The veterinary profession today is enjoying a wave of enormous popularity. At the time of writing this biography, there are three different television programmes currently showing about veterinary activities – all achieving high viewing ratings. James Herriot has been held to be largely responsible for the public’s seemingly inexhaustible fascination for all things veterinary. This is a predictable opinion as the television series ‘All Creatures Great and Small’, first shown twenty years ago, was a runaway success and was enjoyed by millions. James Herriot’s books, the inspiration behind that series, are widely believed to have been the main reason for the spotlight that now seems to be permanently upon the veterinary surgeon.
My father, however, repeatedly expressed his opinion that he was not solely responsible for the high profile of his profession and the headlong rush of young people entering the veterinary schools. When I applied for entry in 1960, ten years before the first Herriot book was published, there were, even then, three to four hundred applicants for around forty-five places on the course. With the general public’s enduring fascination for animals, a career in veterinary medicine has been a natural choice for an ever-increasing number of young people. The enormous popularity of his books may have inevitably improved the image of the profession, but there are other factors involved and I agree with my father’s assertion: James Herriot is only partly responsible. I feel sorry for the youngsters nowadays who aspire to be veterinary surgeons. The competition to enter the veterinary schools is intense, with dauntingly high academic achievements needed – three ‘A’ Levels in the science subjects, with at least two at ‘A’ grade. Many listen with envy when I tell them that, back in 1960, I needed only two ‘A’ Levels to gain entry to Glasgow University Veterinary School. Admittedly, they had to be in the science subjects – chemistry, physics and biology – but an ordinary pass was enough and it was a modest challenge in comparison with the ferocious competition of today. I wonder what they would think of the requirements in my father’s day! Alfred Wight gained admission to Glasgow Veterinary College in 1933 with passes in English, French and Latin – hardly ideal subjects for a future scientist, but the situation then was very different. With comparatively few wishing to enter the veterinary profession during the years of the depression, the veterinary schools were only too pleased to welcome anyone to fill the courses. While still at Hillhead School, he had telephoned the veterinary college to tell them that, provided he gained the basic entry requirements, he would like to pursue a career in veterinary medicine.