This article was quite the interesting read for me! I grew up in Ayrshire, and knew well of the ICI (Imperial Chemical Industries) plant at Ardeer. My maternal grandfathed worked there until retirement, involved in some aspect of the acid mixing and nitroglycerine production (erroneously named by others in my family as 'nitrous'). During World War 2, he was denied release to join the British Army due to being designated "essential to the war effort" as part of the chain to create high explosives. Sadly, he died when I was too young to really be interested in the intricacies of his work. Thus, I was unable to ask him questions about it. I wished others had had the interest in it I have now, so many years later.
While of no relevance to this article or these comments... my memories of my Grandfather are all of a kind, mostly self-educated man, who was denied accepting a full university scholarship - despite pleading from the local Headmaster to his own father - due to his alcoholic father requiring him to go to work and earn money to be able to sustain his 8 younger siblings. He loved his Wife and Daughter, reading Omar Khayyam, watching horse-racing, had a legendary reluctance to accept gifts from anyone lest it put them at a financial disadvantage for having thus done so, and as my Mother told me - always took 2 sandwiches to work with him for over 30 years for his nightly "lunch"; one with cheese, and one with jam.
I mention about him in such manner, as there will likely never be another time that I will find reason to immortalize him online in some small measure of remembrance. And... it made me miss him.
For what it's worth, I felt like I could see him as you wrote about him. And more, I think it's absolutely on topic to hear about the life of a man who worked in the very place the article is about. Gives us an idea of a person to place there. Maybe during lunch he'd prop himself on the embankment side of the blast walls in the sun, with his jam sandwich.
While of no relevance to this article or these comments... my memories of my Grandfather are all of a kind, mostly self-educated man, who was denied accepting a full university scholarship - despite pleading from the local Headmaster to his own father - due to his alcoholic father requiring him to go to work and earn money to be able to sustain his 8 younger siblings. He loved his Wife and Daughter, reading Omar Khayyam, watching horse-racing, had a legendary reluctance to accept gifts from anyone lest it put them at a financial disadvantage for having thus done so, and as my Mother told me - always took 2 sandwiches to work with him for over 30 years for his nightly "lunch"; one with cheese, and one with jam.
I mention about him in such manner, as there will likely never be another time that I will find reason to immortalize him online in some small measure of remembrance. And... it made me miss him.