I GET MY KICKS OUT OF BRICKS
Police sergeant Mark is a total blockhead. As Scotland’s first (and only) brickologist, he collects bricks, displays them and even gets examples sent to him from all over the world
museum’s. How many more, he wondered, were out there, uncollected, uncatalogued and unloved?
Despite devoting his free time over the last seven years to this question, he is no nearer an answer. His efforts, however, have been recognised by the Scottish Heritage Society, who gave him an Angel Award last year.
Thanks to this increased profile, the nation has taken his hobby to heart.
Piles of bricks turn up at the back door of the police station (he’s a sergeant in Jedburgh) and in the post from across the world.
“I’ve had a letter addressed to ‘the brick man, Jedburgh’,” he said proudly.
The international fellowship of brick lovers has welcomed Mark into their dusty red bosom. After an article about him in a Ukrainian newspaper, enthusiasts there sought him out on Facebook. The other day, an Italian woman sent him a brick marked Morningside from the bread oven of a Florence palace.
Then there is Vladimir Smirnov of St Petersburg. His collection of bricks includes 26 Scottish examples.
“Four of which,” Mark added somewhat bitterly, “I haven’t got.”
Closer to home, there is a fellow from Stranraer who works on Caledonian MacBrayne ferries and rummages for bricks in every port in Scotland. Back on board, he photographs his treasures and sends the pictures to Mark. If he has it already, there is nothing for it but to hurl the unwanted brick into the sea.
“One day an underwater archaeologist is going to wonder how the hell all these bricks ended up at the bottom of the Minch,” joked Mark.
When Mark retires in September, he will have even more time to devote to bricks. In the meantime, he tries to get away on hunting trips twice a month. His new car was chosen for its brick-bearing capacity. Plus, it’s big enough for Mark in his sleeping bag.
His wife Karen helps out with his comprehensive website but draws the line at dossing in a car park.
This leaves Mark to scour riverbanks and former industrial sites on his own. He said: “I often have to hump bricks miles. I have two rucksacks, one for the back, the other over the shoulder and maybe two bricks under the other arm.”
He hunts light, taking just a wire brush to remove moss, a hammer and chisel and his little black book – a record of all the brick marks he has, to save him lugging duplicates home.
It’s dirty work. Mark said: “I get filthy. And that’s assuming I don’t end up in water. Bricks are often found in a river. The water is always shifting, uncovering bricks dumped there.”
But it’s all worth it when he finds an elusive Dubs & Co specimen, or a Seaton & Co brick from Aberdeen. He said: “I’ve done a wee jig on the beach on my own. A wee air-punch finding one I’ve been looking for or that I didn’t even know existed.”
Mark would like to set up a museum where people can admire his rare Etnas and marvel at the many different spellings used by the Greenhill company. His short-term goal, however, is to catalogue every brick produced in Scotland. Next month he is launching the Great British Brick Off, asking the public to join his hunt for unusual examples.
He said: “I know there’s about 250 that exist that I haven’t got, because other people have them.
“These undiscovered bricks will be in somebody’s back garden, behind their shed, on their river walk. They’re tripping over them. They’ve just never turned them over.” l To find out more, visit www. scottishbrickhistory.co.uk or email Mark – markcranston1962@gmail. com. If you’ve got an unusual collection, email reporters@ dailyrecord.co.uk and tell us about it.