Bertie Poem by jim hogg

It was the mid 60s. We were just kids on the Creechan shore gathering whelks well into the dusk and beyond (don't ask me how we could see them!) , too often in the wind and rain - times were hard. Bertie was a living legend by then. A local footballer and distance runner of distinction, his discipline and determination were outstanding. As a kid he would jump off the school bus with 9 miles still to go and run home at a fair clip. He would then sometimes go out on a lengthy run, up hill and down dale. and part of his seriously tough course took him down a steep heugh and along the top of the shore where we were hard at work in the rain. We couldn't see him but the rhythmic thump thump of his boots on the narrow and worn track would start to the south of us, grow louder, then speed past, between us and the cliff face, and on into the night. He gave himself no quarter and eventually wore his knees out, but was never anything less than a flinty, fair and able bloke who succeeded at all he did. His kind grow ever rarer it seems.