interviewed by Laura Selkirk
Meeting Brodick postmaster Alan ‘Cams’ Campbell for coffee, I expected a simple chat about his interest in music and what brought him to Arran. What I got was a fascinating account of a life which has taken him in unexpected directions.
Cams’s musical training began during his childhood in Prestwick. His parents would have liked him to learn to play the piano, but they had neither the money nor the space for one, so he began to play the accordion at the age of six. He did some grade exams and played in Ayr Town Hall before giving up when he went to secondary school, though he still has his accordion.
He left school at 16 and, at his father’s suggestion, joined the army, going to Harrogate to join the Royal Signals. Every apprentice had to sit a modern languages aptitude test, which revealed a flair for languages of which Cams was previously unaware. He was offered the chance to switch from working as a Radio Telegraphist to being an Electronic Warfare Operator, learning Russian. Two years of intensive Russian followed, mostly comprising military vocabulary but including sitting a GCSE.
He might have been in the army yet but for an incident that was to change the course of his life. At 17, after one year in the army, he was sent on an exercise in the Lake District, and this entailed getting to the top of a cliff. Rather than taking the long route up, the sergeant decided they would go straight up the cliff, without ropes. The sergeant dislodged a rock above him, which hit the person below him, who in turn fell against Cams. “I remember the weight of my backpack pulling me over”, he recalls, “and I fell forty feet and landed on a scree slope. I smashed up my leg, both bones, open fractures; my skull was fractured, I’d lost some teeth, I’d broken my shoulder and was all covered in scrapes and abrasions. I lay on the hillside for about four hours until the helicopter came. I went to a local hospital in the Lake District. They didn’t know if I was going to keep my leg or not; so much dirt had got into the wounds. But they managed to save it.”
It was a year before he would return to Harrogate, during which time he was in various hospitals for orthopaedic treatment and skin grafts. He said with a cheerful grin, “The first time I went home, I couldn’t get any clothes on because I had all these fixators sticking out of my leg. So my brother sent his kilt down; I had to stay an extra day till it arrived, so I had something to wear to get home. Maybe that’s when I started to enjoy wearing the kilt!” He knew he would no longer pass the fitness requirements to stay in the army, but he was allowed to complete his training and graduated in 1991 with the prize for Best Linguist.
He was walking with a stick by this point, but his leg was twisted and shortened, so he went straight back to hospital and was one of the first British patients to be fitted with an Ilizarov frame, pioneered by Russian orthopaedic surgeons. The bone was re-broken and for nine months, as it healed, he turned the screws on the frame each day to pull the bone apart and gradually recreate normal length. “I had to wear my kilt again for nine months,” he says.
During his recovery, he went back to school for two years to do Highers in English, Russian, History and Economics, as his military language qualifications were not recognised for university entrance. After being discharged from the army, he went to St. Andrews University to study Russian, along with Arabic and Information, but having been trained in military Russian, he struggled with the study of literature.
He spent his year abroad in Odessa in the Ukraine, teaching English and enjoying the culture, particularly opera and ballet. He wrote a dissertation on the Odessa opera house, where he was treated to backstage tours, and has passed on his love of ballet to his children Hamish and Freya, both members of Arran Dancers.
His Honours dissertation was a comparison of the novel, War and Peace (a tome of daunting length which he read in the original Russian) with the epic film version. He graduated in 1998 with an MA in Russian Language and Literature, and, being unable to do postgraduate training in Machine Translation as he had hoped, he went to Bradford University to do a postgraduate MA in Interpreting and Translation. This was another lucky twist of fate, as it was here that he met his future wife, Lorraine. He remembers taking his guitar up to her room in their halls of residence to serenade her! Lorraine also studied Russian, although her main languages are French and German.
After graduating, both Cams and Lorraine taught English at a school in Sochi, on the Black Sea coast of Russia, for a few months. Cams then worked as a translator in Almaty, Kazakhstan, for two years before joining Lorraine in Luxembourg, where they lived for the next seven years. As his French improved, Cams was able to use his IT skills for software translation.
It was 2001 before the Ministry of Defence accepted liability for the accident and settled out of court. This helped with student loan repayments, but Cams still suffers pain; the leg, badly scarred, has never regained its full length, and he can no longer run or play sports. “But if that had never happened, I would never have got to university; I would probably have stayed in the army,” he reflects. And he would never have met Lorraine, whom he married (in Prestwick) in 2002. Freya was born in 2004 and Hamish in 2006.
At 21, inspired by a documentary on Bert Jansch, Cams had bought his first guitar and learnt with a friend. During his time in Luxembourg he developed different styles, invested in more expensive guitars, began performing at open mic sessions and was given tuition over the internet by a guitarist he admired in New Jersey. In 2004, he made the first of several trips to the U.S.A. to attend a ‘jam’ in Atlanta, which was where he first heard bluegrass. “Some of the stuff they were playing sounded quite Scottish in origin,” he recalls, “and the energy of it was like ceilidh music, but...different. It really appealed to me. At that point I’d been playing a lot of Celtic music, following Tony McManus, a Scottish musician who pioneered a lot of bagpipe music on the guitar. When I went over there, nobody was playing the stuff I played, so I was a bit of an oddity. The bluegrass music just blew me away, so I started learning that.”
He also attended a music camp in Tennessee, funded by becoming the European distributor for specialist plectrums. “It was just like heaven,” he says, “and I got to play on stage with Tony McManus; I played one of his arrangements with him....a good moment for me.”
As a child, Cams had made many walking and camping trips to Arran. He says, “I’ve always felt home here, and the first time I brought Lorraine, she felt the same.” They had the Arran Banner sent out to them in Luxembourg, and when Brodick Post Office was advertised on Janice Small’s retirement, they decided to have a look. They moved to Arran in 2008. Initially, Cams found that learning how to run a business and be an employer took up too much of his time to allow him to fit in translation work. However, as the Post Office is now in decline, he supplements his income by offering computer repairs and upgrades. His IT skills have also been useful in creating and running websites for several island organisations, such as the Folk Festival, Arran Music & Drama Club and Lamlash & Kilmory Church, not to mention his own family website.
He had never been interested in theatre until he was persuaded to audition for Arran Music & Drama Club’s 2010 production, ‘Guys and Dolls’. Cast as crapshooter Nicely-Nicely Johnson, he gave a show-stopping performance of ‘Sit Down You’re Rocking The Boat’.
But perhaps he first came to the attention of Arran audiences in the local bluegrass line-up, The Saggy Bottom Boys. In his second year on Arran, he had started going to folk sessions at Catacol, and through contacts made there was asked if he would be interested in forming a bluegrass band. At that time, the Folk Festival was re-forming, but when Irish band Lúnasa were coming to play in Whiting Bay, there wasn’t enough money to pay for a support act, so the Saggy Bottom Boys got together to fill the gap. The audience loved them, so they decided to keep going. The ‘Saggies’ will be playing again in April in Whiting Bay Hall to support an Irish ceilidh band. If you haven’t seen them yet, now is your chance.