Some­thing old…

I thought my wed­ding video went up in flames

Chat - - Contents - Annette Pot­ter, 72, Kin­car­dine, Fife

Watch­ing cou­ples twirl and jive, I brushed down my dress. It was May 1966, and I was ready for a night of danc­ing.

My friends and I came down to the Burma Ball­room in Kirk­caldy ev­ery week.

Then a hand was of­fered to me. Look­ing up, I saw a lad with sparkly, blue eyes.

‘Dance with me?’ he said to me. Gladly! His name was Colin Pot­ter, he was 21 and train­ing to be a me­chan­i­cal fit­ter. ‘I want to be a teacher,’ I replied, as we danced in time. He could cer­tainly move! At the end of the night, we ar­ranged to meet again the next week. Though Colin lived 30 miles away, in Bo’ness, we courted for more than a year.

It wasn’t like it is now! We had to make plans weeks in ad­vance. But I never wor­ried that Colin wouldn’t turn up. We fell in love very quickly. By Christ­mas 1967, we were en­gaged – we an­nounced it to our fam­ily and friends on Christ­mas Day.

On 27 July 1968, we got mar­ried.

It was a glo­ri­ous, sunny day and I wore a beau­ti­ful dress bor­rowed from a friend. Well, you know how the say­ing goes! I walked up the aisle to the hymn played at Queen El­iz­a­beth and Prince Philip’s wed­ding – Praise, My Soul, the King of Heaven.

Be­fore 80 guests, I mar­ried my dance part­ner.

He was just as good on the dance floor at Strat­hearn Ho­tel.

My dad Tim, then 51, had an old-fash­ioned cine cam­era whirring away, film­ing us. But we never saw the footage. ‘I tried to watch the film back but it set on fire!’ Dad laughed when Colin and I re­turned from our Black­pool hon­ey­moon. just as in love as we had been on our wed­ding day.

Then, in June last year, we came back from a hol­i­day in Tener­ife to a mes­sage from a close friend.

‘You’re in the Fife pa­per!’ Chris­tine, 72, said to me on

the phone.


I rushed to the shop to see Colin and me on the front page.

In our wed­ding gear!

But how..?

Lo­cal film­maker Bill Gourlay had found our old video, buried among cas­settes in an ar­chive at the house of his late friend – who, it turns out, wasn’t even there at our wed­ding.

‘But Dad said that the film had burst into flames!’ I ex­claimed.

I’d never even seen it my­self.

What a mys­tery!

Still, there it was... Bill trans­ferred the video to DVD and saw grainy, jumpy footage of us get­ting mar­ried!

Des­per­ate to re­unite us with the long-lost footage, he called

27 July 1968: it was a glo­ri­ous, sunny day

Hope­fully not a sign for the fu­ture! It wasn’t. Happy years passed. We had a son, Graeme, and a daugh­ter, Les­lie-anne, and we were

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