[
    {
        "id": 214854,
        "series_id": 26,
        "series_slug": "histsyn-rashkb-journal-engine",
        "series_title": "RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊",
        "series_use_hku_proxy": false,
        "document_key": "RAS-1999",
        "page_number": 269,
        "title": "RAS-1999",
        "content_text": "237\n\nFor the Colony it was virtually export or starve. But there was a wonderful pioneering, 'get-up-and-go' spirit. Yet life for many was hard,\n\nIn the '50s and '60s it was not considered infra dig to use the word 'Colony.' Not until early 1972, at China's behest, was Hong Kong removed from the United Nations list of colonies. The then new Governor, the late Sir (later Lord) Murray MacLehose, gave instructions that government servants would use the word '(Dependent) Territory' instead. 'Colony' was only to be used in an historical context. As a result the Colonial Secretary became the Chief Secretary, the Colonial Secretariat became Central Government Offices, and so on. At least as far as the Hong Kong Government was concerned. Nevertheless some people and bodies - the BBC for example - used the term 'Colony' right up to 1997 - which of course, strictly speaking, it was.\n\nSir Murray, nevertheless, and indeed the two governors after him, on ceremonial occasions, still wore the distinctive sola topi from which sprouted a peculiar crop of egret feathers. Later it became the subject of jokes and snide remarks, not so much from the Chinese who accept one should dress for the part, but more from younger Europeans.\n\nToday, it is fashionable to talk disparagingly of colonial things and ideas in spite of the solid foundations laid for the Territory in a wide variety of fields from law to administration. But of course, mistakes were also made.\n\nWhen writing of the very early 1960s I am of course writing of times when there were no cross-harbour tunnels, no service charges in hotels or restaurants, and no feeding hungry tigers (parking metres). The first flyover was not constructed until 1963. This was outside Saint Teresa's Church in Kowloon. There were few traffic lights then and the job was done efficiently by constables with fancy footwork and arm movements standing on picturesque traffic pagodas. These were originally designed by our old friend, Arthur May, who worked in the PWD. He came to Hong Kong in 1913 as a child. He died in January 2000. It was he who crept up the Peak on 15 August 1945 and raised the Union Jack to tell the people of Hong Kong the Japanese had been defeated. If anyone could describe himself as an Old Hong Kong Hand Arthur could.",
        "txt_file_path": "txt/dfo323lmgvd/RAS-1999.txt",
        "external_url": "https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/s178b887x",
        "rank": 0
    },
    {
        "id": 216104,
        "series_id": 26,
        "series_slug": "histsyn-rashkb-journal-engine",
        "series_title": "RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊",
        "series_use_hku_proxy": false,
        "document_key": "RAS-2002",
        "page_number": 403,
        "title": "RAS-2002",
        "content_text": "337\n\nMeters, flyovers and service charges\n\nIt was not until 1962 that Hong Kong had its first parking meters and at about the same time service charges were first levied in restaurants. Also at this time, in spite of high immigration figures, unemployment consistently stood at well below two per cent. Inflation was negligible. The Territory saw its first flyover, outside Saint Teresa's Church on Prince Edward Road in Kowloon, in 1963.\n\n‘One damn thing after another'\n\nIn the early 1960s, we are referring to a time when something like 30 million inhabitants died of starvation on the Chinese Mainland. This was as a result of the failure of the 'Great Leap Forward.' There were long queues in Hong Kong post offices sending food parcels to relatives in China. All in all, the 1960s was a challenging decade and, as one government servant phrased it, 'It was one damn thing after another.' But the Territory was a great survivor and frequently managed to come back stronger than ever.\n\nTyphoons\n\nWhen I first arrived in Hong Kong my boss told me there is a bad typhoon every seven years. In fact, there is no set pattern if you check as I have. An estimated 11,000 people died in the 1937 typhoon, more than the 8,750 total Allied forces, Japanese and Chinese estimated to have been killed when the Japanese attacked Hong Kong in December 1941. There was an inadequate typhoon warning system in those days. Up until the 1930s a gun was fired from Blackhead Point, in Kowloon, either when a typhoon was approaching or when the mail ship arrived. Not infrequently, the two events were confused.\n\nTyphoon Wanda, in 1962, is sometimes remembered as the last typhoon from which bitter lessons were learned on how to batten down. It coincided with a high tide, with an 11-foot rise in water level and a storm surge that caused bad flooding. This happened right up to Tsang Tai Uk (the big house of the Tsang family), the fine, Hakka walled village at the end of Sha Tin Hoi (Sea). This Hoi has long since been reclaimed. With Wanda, something like 2,000 ships and small craft were sunk or damaged. There were 130 deaths. With gusts of 164 mph",
        "txt_file_path": "txt/dfo323lmgvd/RAS-2002.txt",
        "external_url": "https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/mp4901278",
        "rank": 0
    }
]