An island lesson in racial harmony While I was doing my bit for the war-effort between 1940 and 1945 we lived ‘in the town’ in rooms at the corner of Stornoway’s Castle Street and Point Street. Saturday, 8th May 2021, 12:00 am Across the road was a merchant’s depot at which horse-drawn carts regularly pulled up to disgorge vast quantities of curers’ salt. A minute’s walk along Point Street would bring you past Dan Dougal’s dairy, the same Dan Dougal’s butcher-shop, Jimmy ’Clean’s bike repair-shop, another butcher’s shop (‘Am Buidsear Ruadh’), and, finally, Calum Sgiathanach’s high-class grocery-cum-bakery. There, in my early years, my lawful journeys ended.