Stories from our Streets: Calder Street

 

In this edition of Stories from our Streets, we uncover Calder Street’s rich past — from its beginnings in Fireworks Village and the rise of Govanhill, to iconic landmarks like the Govanhill Baths, library and cinema, and the community campaigns and curious tales that shaped its story.

Wide shot of Calder Street, Govanhill

By Devon McCole | Photos by Laura Vroomen

Etymology and origins

Calder Street may well be one of Govanhill’s best known streets – rich in cultural, social and political history that lives on in local architecture and in the hearts and minds of its residents. 

The name ‘Calder’ has Gaelic origins, deriving from ‘coille dur’ meaning ‘wooded river’ but the origin of the street’s name is less clear.

The street first began taking shape in the early 19th century, when it was part of an area known as Fireworks Village. It was a company village which housed miners working for the Dixon family’s Iron Works and Govan Colliery. On a map from 1822 the area was recorded as ‘Houses of Fire Work,’ before becoming more widely known as Firework Village.

The rapid growth of Dixon’s businesses meant the expansion of Fireworks Village, with the addition of cottages, tenements, schools and other notable buildings spurred on by a growing population. It soon evolved into the Burgh of Govanhill at the latter end of the 19th century.

The area that was once known as Fireworks Village appears as Calder Street several times in the subscribers section of Govanhill poet Angus Ross’s collection of poetry titled ‘“Home” and other poems’, published in 1881. The book, printed by Baird & Hamilton, based in Rutherglen at the “Reformer” office lists its subscribers (mostly from Glasgow) at the back, including some readers from Calder Street, Govanhill; John M’Laughlin, David Colquhoun (84 Calder St), Edward Murray, Robert Harvey (59 Calder St), Richard Cochrane (62 Calder St) and William Ferguson (also 62 Calder St) to name a few. Recognise anyone?

Notable buildings, people and events

The Calder Street School opened its doors to pupils in 1875. Now known as Holy Cross Primary School, it was the first public school and is the oldest building in the area. In the 1880s, as the population of Govanhill increased, the school began taking on more pupils and an extension was proposed. Some parents rejected the idea, worried their children would have to mix with those from a lower class, reflecting the Victorian classist attitudes and the close proximity of the different classes in Govanhill.

Govanhill Library exterior, 2025

The Govanhill Library, one of the Carnegie libraries established in Glasgow by philanthropist Andrew Carnegie, opened its doors in 1906. Eleven years later, so did Calder Street Baths and Wash House, better known today as Govanhill Baths. Designed by Scottish architect A.B McDonald (who also designed plans for Bellahouston Park, Pollockshields District Library and the People’s Palace), the baths were completed in 1917, two years after his death. 

A century later, the baths became the site of the longest occupation of a building in Britain when, in 2001, residents rallied together to prevent its demolition during the Save Our Pool campaign.

Govanhill Baths Community Trust hub across from the Govanhill Baths building, 2025

Somewhere in between those dates, a man was subject to a most unfortunate crime there, leading to an article in the Sunday Post in 1963 titled ‘Who Pinched Willie’s Clothes at Calder Street Baths’. 

Another notable building was the Calder Cinema built in 1932, with its distinctive red-tiled roof, standing back to back with the (still standing) Govanhill Picture House. In fact it was one of four cinemas in Govanhill. But it was eventually closed in 1967, becoming a bingo hall in the 70s before being demolished in the 80s. 

But if historical architecture, classic cinema, public bath hijinks or the radical history of community activism isn’t your thing, true crime lovers may (morbidly) enjoy this bit of trivia: Anthony Miller, the second-last person to be executed by hanging in Scotland, was convicted of killing John Cremin during a robbery gone wrong in Queen’s Park Recreation Ground. His accomplice, 16-year-old James Donovan – who acted as ‘bait’ to lure gay men into muggings – lived with his family on Calder Street.

Your memories of Calder Street

For David Galloway who lived in the area in the 1950s and ’60s, Calder Street meant three things: the baths, the library, and Pennie’s fish and chip shop. “It didn’t have a sit-in like the Unique on Allison Street, but my mum insisted Pennie’s chips were better. I was sent there for the family tea every few weeks.”

Joe Jarvie, who lived at 296 Calder Street, has a vivid early memory of a trip to the Calder Cinema: “My mum took me to see Disney’s Sleeping Beauty and had to take me home – I wouldn’t stop crying when she ‘died’ after eating the poisoned apple. I was about four.”

Tina’s Chippy exterior, 2025

Amar Shakoor grew up on Westmoreland Street and spent summers at the Calder Street Baths with his pals. “I went to Cuthbertson Primary” he said “and on the way back from school popped into Mrs Young’s paper shop next to Paddy Neeson’s pub.”

For Lorraine Borland Dunbar, the baths were a regular ritual. She remembers her mother: “went to the steamie every Tuesday, with all the clothes wrapped in sheets and pushed in a pram. My brother and I weren’t allowed in, so we sat at the front, bored rigid. We were always relieved to see her at the mangle – it meant she was nearly finished.”

Gordon Mackinnon, from Batson Street, loved going to Govanhill Library, especially the reading room filled with men absorbed in the day’s papers. Jack Robertson remembers his mother running a clothes shop called Mina’s at the corner with Gartuck Street.

And for Peter O’Brien, the baths defined his childhood summers: “I practically went every day of the holidays… your eyes red raw from the chlorine in the water… brilliant memories!”

Swimming was also central for Sharon Holding, whose dad worked as a lifeguard: “We used to swim as much as we could, then get soup from the machine – or chips from Tina’s chippy if we were lucky!”

Weekends for Gail Dalziel, who lived on Riccarton Street, were spent at the pool or the library with her mum and aunt. She adds, “I remember the hell everyone caused when they shut the baths down… I missed that wee pool.”


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