This article by parishioner John Farrell was originally published in the 50th Anniversary booklet in 2014. It has been slightly revised since then.

In 1961 when the words "health" and "safety" were separated by the length of the dictionary and were never heard in the same sentence, the building site that was to be St Bride's was a magnet for us young boys of the neighbourhood.

Perceived as an adventure playground, here adolescent nerves and abdominal butterflies were tested by climbing the as yet unguarded spiral stairway, negotiating the narrow passageway to the minstrels' gallery and roaming in the unlit roof spaces - areas where in later years only the bravest, i.e. Jim Douglas and Joe Gallacher, would venture and then only for more legitimate purposes.

Even to callow youths, this vast raw space with its shafts of natural light was a source of wonder, albeit a space we imagined as some fabulous sports hall where e.g. badminton could be played without fear of shuttles hitting the roof! The over pulpit seemed an ideal umpire's spot.

As the years progressed and we grew older, so too did the building, growing into its sacred function; a place of liturgy, prayer, reflection. Much water has passed under the bridge since then (passed through our roof even) but gazing around our church today still inspires awe - and a sense of God's presence.

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