It was a foggy day. The photographer took this picture of Mum in her wedding dress before she set out, but he failed to turn up at the church, hence no other photographs.
They went to Scarborough for their honeymoon, just for a few days. They stayed at the Victoria Hotel that was owned by the parents of Charles Laughton. While Dad was on leave during the last year of the war, they lived at 58 Wordsworth Drive, Rotherham, the home of Mum's parents.. I was born while Dad was abroad, so he did not see me until I was a few months old.
After the war they continued to live at Wordsworth Drive. Iris remembered that after John was born, on the 9th April 1946, there were two cots in the one room occupied by Mum and Dad. (Was that the same room that John and I shared when we went to stay with Nanan in the mid nineteen fifties?) Iris said that the carpets had to be replaced from being worn by the pram.
Dad went back to work at Davy's in Sheffield. This meant a long journey by bus and tram, so it must have been so much better when at last they moved into their own home in Busheywood Road in Totley, a property belonging to Dad's family. Was this the same house called "Baulby" where Dad was born? If not the actual house, the photograph below is one very similar.
I think I can remember Mum taking us to watch steam trains at the bridge in Totley. My first infant school was in the neighbouring village of Dore, although I think it was only one term. Mum and I had to walk across the fields to the school. I have an impression of being perched on a very high desk. The school is still there.
And back to Wordsworth Drive, and an early introduction to sports of all kinds.
Mum and Dad made their first big move in 1950, when Dad must have been offered his first position as a grocer's shop manager in the village of Alton in Staffordshire. There was also the benefit of accommodation behind the shop that is just past the pub on the left in the following picture.
The shop sold grocery and provisions. Tea came in large chests to be weighed out for the customers. And there were hams to be cooked and bacon to be sliced. There were aromas in the shop not found in the supermarkets of today.
Paul was born at home on the 18th September 1950. I remember that I was at school when I was given the news, and going into Mum's bedroom to see the new arrival. John and I went to the school in the village, St Peter's Church of England Infant's School. The teacher that I remember more than any other in all the schools I attended was Mrs Vickers. She was a great teacher, and a good friend to Mum and Dad. On one snowy day, the older children made a giant snowball and rolled it down the middle of the High Street, until it became so huge that it needed a group to push it down the hill.
On the day of the Queen's Coronation in 1953, Dad had the task of judging the best decorated house in the village. I was with him in the van as we toured the village. Did we have our first television by then? We watched the event on a tiny screen somewhere, so may well have. Alton Towers was not a theme park in those days. In fact the gardens only reopened in 1952 along with tea rooms inside the dilapidated house.
It was in 1953 when we left Alton for London. Dad had found a much better job, managing John Buckle on Kensington High Street, and what was one of the largest grocers in London. It occupied a double frontage of a building that is now occupied by Whittard and Ryman. I put an entry on my blog on 24th May 2009 about the visit I made to Kensington, and how I found John Buckle on the Internet as being 1 Newland Terrace, now part of Kensington High Street.
17th March 2015. I changed the photo below as John Buckle is not now Whittard and Ryman. It is actually now Trailfinders, the shop to the left of the white van. How do I know? It was an email from Graham Carruthers (who works at Trailfinders) that drew my attention to a website: http://londonist.com/2011/08/video-driving-round-london-in-the-1950s.php. At 1minute 45seconds and 4 minutes you can see quite clearly the John Buckle shop. Thanks Graham.
Just after we arrived in London when I was eight years old, my last school in Alton, Staffs, there had been a collection for one of Princess Margaret's charities. Each school had been invited to send along one pupil to present their collection. So as we were already living in London, my old school thought I might like to go. The main memory from that day is queuing for what seemed like hours in the bowels of the Royal Albert Hall, waiting for my turn and then suddenly bursting into the dazzling light to shake hands with the Princess and hand over the envelope.
It then must have been a few years later that Dad took my bother John and me there to see the London Championship Finals for the ABA. Dad always loved his boxing. He would get up in the middle of the night to listen to world title fights from the USA.
I know it was summer when we moved to London as John and I started school in the September. I was eight, John seven and Paul coming up three. We lived at 5a Napier Road, above a shop that was also owned by John Buckle, now a Londis.
Our flat was extremely basic by today's standards, and seems to be no longer habitable. An open fire in the living room and a paraffin heater in the kitchen was the only heating, although I guess some heat came from the shop below. But the bedrooms were freezing in the winter. (26/08/14 - A passage in The Goldfinch reminded me of the many times we had ice on the INSIDE of the windows). I guess that today it would be a highly desirable address if it could be renovated. I remember there was a balcony at the back, but we never went on it. We did have our own front door, the one in the photo below. Straight onto a staircase that took us up to the flat.
Dad worked long hours at the shop, although he did have off Thursday afternoons (early closing) and Saturday afternoons. We hardly saw him in the weeks leading up to Christmas as he was packing hampers and delivering orders to the wealthy clientele in Kensington and Holland Park who made up many of his customers. They included may stars of the theatre and films. Ann Todd was a famous actress in her day, and John and I even did "Bob-a-Job" at her house. Dad was great at his job. He was now coming up to forty years of age, and his private school and officer background gave him that air of respectability and service that endeared him to customers and staff alike. He was just a really nice man.
John and I started at Beaufort House Junior School in Fulham in September 1953. I was there for three years before taking my eleven plus, and John for four. We used to catch the bus at the very bottom of Kensington High Street, at the bridge over the railway at Olympia which separates Kensington and Hammersmith. The only photo I can find of the school is on Friends Reunited. Mum and Dad were always hugely supportive of our education. When we were young they encouraged our reading, and before I took my eleven plus, arranged for coaching at home to improve my writing that was hardly legible, as there was a distinct possibility I would fail the exam as my writing could not be read.
I have vivid memories of the day we took the eleven plus. The school was shut to all those not taking the exam. So the normally packed playground was deserted and we were able to have wonderful ball games on our own. Close to the school was Telfer's Meat Pie Factory, you always knew when they were cooking the meat!
I put a posting on this Blog on 20th April 2010 about football at Beaufort House. I now remember it was a maroon jumper that Mum knitted for me when I was chosen as goalie for the school team. I also had a part in the school play. Thye first section was about the Black Death, and I had to comfort a distraught and recently widowed Delia Cummings with the words "There, there. You're upset, and I can understand it too". We also produced a school magazine, and I was interviewed at home by Jane Cotterill about our lives before we came to London. Funny how you never forget some names.
When I passed to go to grammar school, it was Mum who did the research into all the schools I might attend. Her first choice was St Clement Danes on Ducane Road near White City. This was an all boys school that was supported by the Holborn Estate Charity. Mum took me to what we thought was an interview, but it turned out to be a welcome presentation. John followed me there a year later.
The school had eight houses: Clement, Dane, Clare, Burleigh, Temple, Lincoln, Essex and Exeter. I was in the last. Our colour was black and all our teams were rubbish. There were lots of clubs after school and I can remember joining a couple but not what they were. We had exams at the end of our first term to decide where to put us in one of the four streamed classes. I went into the top class but inevitably struggled. So I went down to the next class for the following year and enjoyed being near the top. Everything was going fine academically until we started science. Physics and chemistry were like a foreign language. Thank goodness we then moved to Braintree.
The school is no longer there. It was absorbed into the neighbouring Burlington Girls School when it became a comprehensive, and demolished a few years ago. It was the site of a new laboratory complex called Burlington Danes, and I became involved in the construction when my company, Shepherd Construction, were awarded the contract. Amazing.
Paul went to St Mary Abbots Primary School on Kensington Church Street. This meant a bus ride for Mum to take Paul to school, then one home. And the same again in the afternoons ( I can remember one set of journeys when I was off school for some reason). There is a story that on the first day they went to the wrong school, but thankfully found what was then, and still is an excellent school.
A few doors down on Napier Road lived the writer Alun Owen and his family who became good friends of Mum and Dad. I should remember Alun's wife's name, as she and Mum got on really well. Their son Jonathon was about Paul's age. Alun Owen was a budding playwrite, originally from Liverpool. Maybe that was why he was chosen to write the screenplay for the first Beatles film "A Hard Day's Night". Mum also had a friend called Ursula Wood. She lived in Barnes with her husband Peter who was an artist who worked on movie sets. Their son may have gone to school with Paul? We used to visit them on the Saturday closest to 5th November for a firework party. Peter used to set off rockets by remote control.
We were always given some money to buy our own fireworks. They were kept in a paper bag and handled so much that it was a wonder they ever went off. Mum made fantastic bonfire toffee, dark, brittle, sticky and gorgeous.
Bertram Mills Circus came to Olympia each Christmas. It was only a short walk across Holland Road to the London Underground station for Olympia where we could see the animals disembark. We went to see the circus one year, but it was a tour of where they kept the elephants etc that I always remember.
My brothers and I each had a comic delivered every week. I had the Eagle, John the Swift and Paul the Robin. I loved the Eagle. At Christmas I would be given the Eagle Annual, and I would disappear behind the sofa to read the latest Dan Dare and PC 49 adventures.
Dad bought his first car while we lived in London, I think it was an old black Austin. I don't think that it lasted that long, and we were back to the van. Auntie Molly remembered that when she and Uncle John came to visit, Dad would take them out for a tour of London. They had no money for any of the attractions, but still enjoyed the sights. Kensington High Street was a spectacular road. The three big department stores stood next to each other: Barkers, Derry and Toms and Pontings.
We had lots of great days out. The photo below is of London Airport (now Heathrow) with the solitary Queen's Building in the background.
Our favourite places were all short bus rides away. Kensington Gardens (where we used to sail our toy yachts on the Round Pond) and Barnes Common (great for blackberry picking in late summer) on Sunday mornings (while Mum stayed home to cook a wonderful roast dinner). Occasionally in the summer, we would go into central London. Notice how deserted is Trafalgar Square on such a nice day.
Sundays were special. With dinner at 1pm, we would listed to "The Billy Cotton Bandshow" on the radio, followed by "The Navy Lark". In the afternoon we could walk to nearby Holland Park. When we were old enough to venture out on our own, it was probably Holland Park where John and I would go on our own. The area used for ball games is still there. Where below there is now a marquee, there used to be cricket nets, and during the summer holidays, we could take a bat and ball and do some practise.
John and I joined the 37th Kensington Cub Pack. Dad was the manager for their football team in which John and I both played. On Saturday lunchtime we would arrive at his shop, just as it was closing. Dad would find the poles we used as goal posts and we would catch the bus to Hyde Park. It was a short walk across to Buck Hill where a surprising number of games between Kensington cub packs would take place. Our spot was always the same.
I was amazed when I visited London in 2009, how little had changed to this isolated part of Hyde Park. Stuck away from the popular areas, it is still the same scruffy grassland with a few trees scattered about. There is more about cub football on the 20th April 2010 posting.
Dad had two great aunts who lived in Esher. They were Kate and Isobel Hoyland (see posting 19th October 2011). Their father was Charles Hoyland (1829 - 1905), a wealthy brush manufacturer in Sheffield. The sisters, both spinsters, had independent means, and probably had never had to work. They were in their eighties when we were in London, and every year around Christmas, they treated us to tea and a show in London. They were magical events. John and Paul can remember us visiting them in Esher, but I cannot recall that. Paul said that he could remember a pond where a Heron had taken all the fish.
In the summer of 1959, we moved out of London. Maybe it was time to leave the city. The first supermarket was opening on Kensington High Street and a new era for selling groceries had begun. Dad had found a job with Budgens, first managing a shop in Chelmsford, then in Colchester and finally Bishops Stortford. He was also involved with the conversion of some of their stores to supermarkets.
The company provided a flat over their shop in the centre of Braintree. So again we were in accommodation provided by Dad's company. First behind the shop in Alton, then the flat above the shop in London and then this one in Braintree. There was a yard at the back, where we sometimes played. There was a time when we were particularly noisy. It was the only time I ever heard Dad shout at us to be quiet as Mum was ill.
We cannot have been in the flat that long, as Mum and Dad bought their first house at 49 London Road in Braintree. It was a long narrow semi detached house, with a long narrow garden and lawns at the front.
The house had a big front room that was never used, although just before I left home it was done up. It had a slight musty but not unpleasant smell. In that last summer I can remember playing records there and wondering what my first job would be like. On the other side of the main stairs were a living room, dining room and kitchen. John and I were to share one large bedroom, but preferring a room of my own (for the first time), I took the the tiny back bedroom that was reached by some very narrow back stairs that led from the dining room. These were probably for a live in housekeeper who would have their own access to this end of the house.
John and I attended Braintree County High School. I had the option of attending King Edward V1 Grammar School for Boys in Chelmsford, as the top class of the three in Braintree was full. But not wanting to go on the bus every day, I chose the local mixed grammar instead. Looking back, I would probably have done much better academically at Chelmsford. But I would have missed out playing for the school at football, cricket and basketball. I scraped through five of my seven "O" levels, just enough to get me into the sixth form. But here my concentration was never good enough. How I managed three "A" levels (English, History and Geography) is anyone's guess. Again the grades were poor so, fortunately, they were not good enough for the offer of a place at Hull to study economics. But just good enough, fortunately, for my offer from George Wimpey for a place on their training scheme. And those wonderful years in London and Brighton.
We had our first bikes in Braintree. My first one was an old second hand affair with no gears. I don't think it lasted too long and the next one, though again second hand, had three gears and did me very well. We went everywhere on our bikes, no helmets in those days - but the roads were much safer. It gave us so much more independence. Mine came in particularly useful for my paper round on weekday and Saturday mornings (see posting 8th January 2010) and for getting to see Crittall Athletic (now Braintree Town) play football at Cressing Road. Also to the open air swimming pool, where we had a season ticket one summer. That's John at the front.
There is a separate post on 4 February 2015 about the jobs I had at school. During my last year in the sixth form, on Saturday evenings I used to go to Dunmow Jazz Club. I can remember tasting my first lager and lime in the pub before walking across to the packed village hall. There is a piece on the National Jazz Archive about Derek Watson who ran the club. He mentions that they ran coaches from Braintree so that must have been how I got there. All the top bands played there: Chris Barber, Acker Bilk, Humphrey Littleton, The Dutch Swing College Band, Terry Lightfoot and of course that memorable night for Kenny Ball. (See post 13th November 2020).
Paul went to St Mary Abbots Primary School on Kensington Church Street. This meant a bus ride for Mum to take Paul to school, then one home. And the same again in the afternoons ( I can remember one set of journeys when I was off school for some reason). There is a story that on the first day they went to the wrong school, but thankfully found what was then, and still is an excellent school.
A few doors down on Napier Road lived the writer Alun Owen and his family who became good friends of Mum and Dad. I should remember Alun's wife's name, as she and Mum got on really well. Their son Jonathon was about Paul's age. Alun Owen was a budding playwrite, originally from Liverpool. Maybe that was why he was chosen to write the screenplay for the first Beatles film "A Hard Day's Night". Mum also had a friend called Ursula Wood. She lived in Barnes with her husband Peter who was an artist who worked on movie sets. Their son may have gone to school with Paul? We used to visit them on the Saturday closest to 5th November for a firework party. Peter used to set off rockets by remote control.
We were always given some money to buy our own fireworks. They were kept in a paper bag and handled so much that it was a wonder they ever went off. Mum made fantastic bonfire toffee, dark, brittle, sticky and gorgeous.
Bertram Mills Circus came to Olympia each Christmas. It was only a short walk across Holland Road to the London Underground station for Olympia where we could see the animals disembark. We went to see the circus one year, but it was a tour of where they kept the elephants etc that I always remember.
My brothers and I each had a comic delivered every week. I had the Eagle, John the Swift and Paul the Robin. I loved the Eagle. At Christmas I would be given the Eagle Annual, and I would disappear behind the sofa to read the latest Dan Dare and PC 49 adventures.
Dad bought his first car while we lived in London, I think it was an old black Austin. I don't think that it lasted that long, and we were back to the van. Auntie Molly remembered that when she and Uncle John came to visit, Dad would take them out for a tour of London. They had no money for any of the attractions, but still enjoyed the sights. Kensington High Street was a spectacular road. The three big department stores stood next to each other: Barkers, Derry and Toms and Pontings.
We had lots of great days out. The photo below is of London Airport (now Heathrow) with the solitary Queen's Building in the background.
Sundays were special. With dinner at 1pm, we would listed to "The Billy Cotton Bandshow" on the radio, followed by "The Navy Lark". In the afternoon we could walk to nearby Holland Park. When we were old enough to venture out on our own, it was probably Holland Park where John and I would go on our own. The area used for ball games is still there. Where below there is now a marquee, there used to be cricket nets, and during the summer holidays, we could take a bat and ball and do some practise.
John and I joined the 37th Kensington Cub Pack. Dad was the manager for their football team in which John and I both played. On Saturday lunchtime we would arrive at his shop, just as it was closing. Dad would find the poles we used as goal posts and we would catch the bus to Hyde Park. It was a short walk across to Buck Hill where a surprising number of games between Kensington cub packs would take place. Our spot was always the same.
I was amazed when I visited London in 2009, how little had changed to this isolated part of Hyde Park. Stuck away from the popular areas, it is still the same scruffy grassland with a few trees scattered about. There is more about cub football on the 20th April 2010 posting.
Dad had two great aunts who lived in Esher. They were Kate and Isobel Hoyland (see posting 19th October 2011). Their father was Charles Hoyland (1829 - 1905), a wealthy brush manufacturer in Sheffield. The sisters, both spinsters, had independent means, and probably had never had to work. They were in their eighties when we were in London, and every year around Christmas, they treated us to tea and a show in London. They were magical events. John and Paul can remember us visiting them in Esher, but I cannot recall that. Paul said that he could remember a pond where a Heron had taken all the fish.
In the summer of 1959, we moved out of London. Maybe it was time to leave the city. The first supermarket was opening on Kensington High Street and a new era for selling groceries had begun. Dad had found a job with Budgens, first managing a shop in Chelmsford, then in Colchester and finally Bishops Stortford. He was also involved with the conversion of some of their stores to supermarkets.
The company provided a flat over their shop in the centre of Braintree. So again we were in accommodation provided by Dad's company. First behind the shop in Alton, then the flat above the shop in London and then this one in Braintree. There was a yard at the back, where we sometimes played. There was a time when we were particularly noisy. It was the only time I ever heard Dad shout at us to be quiet as Mum was ill.
We cannot have been in the flat that long, as Mum and Dad bought their first house at 49 London Road in Braintree. It was a long narrow semi detached house, with a long narrow garden and lawns at the front.
The house had a big front room that was never used, although just before I left home it was done up. It had a slight musty but not unpleasant smell. In that last summer I can remember playing records there and wondering what my first job would be like. On the other side of the main stairs were a living room, dining room and kitchen. John and I were to share one large bedroom, but preferring a room of my own (for the first time), I took the the tiny back bedroom that was reached by some very narrow back stairs that led from the dining room. These were probably for a live in housekeeper who would have their own access to this end of the house.
John and I attended Braintree County High School. I had the option of attending King Edward V1 Grammar School for Boys in Chelmsford, as the top class of the three in Braintree was full. But not wanting to go on the bus every day, I chose the local mixed grammar instead. Looking back, I would probably have done much better academically at Chelmsford. But I would have missed out playing for the school at football, cricket and basketball. I scraped through five of my seven "O" levels, just enough to get me into the sixth form. But here my concentration was never good enough. How I managed three "A" levels (English, History and Geography) is anyone's guess. Again the grades were poor so, fortunately, they were not good enough for the offer of a place at Hull to study economics. But just good enough, fortunately, for my offer from George Wimpey for a place on their training scheme. And those wonderful years in London and Brighton.
We had our first bikes in Braintree. My first one was an old second hand affair with no gears. I don't think it lasted too long and the next one, though again second hand, had three gears and did me very well. We went everywhere on our bikes, no helmets in those days - but the roads were much safer. It gave us so much more independence. Mine came in particularly useful for my paper round on weekday and Saturday mornings (see posting 8th January 2010) and for getting to see Crittall Athletic (now Braintree Town) play football at Cressing Road. Also to the open air swimming pool, where we had a season ticket one summer. That's John at the front.
My story of life with Mum and Dad ends here. I left home to work for George Wimpey in Hammersmith in September 1963. Soon after, Mum and Dad moved to Kenilworth in Warwickshire. Dad took a job managing a shop in Stivichall, a very nice suburb of Coventry. Eventually Dad came to own the shop when he was given the opportunity following the company's sale of all of their smaller stores. He did very well out of the deal, as he knew it was a little goldmine. I guess, as a result, this was the time that Mum and Dad were at their most prosperous, especially with John and I having left home. They were able to indulge their love of the theatre and attended many plays at The Royal Shakespeare Theatre in Stratford. They also went on foreign holidays for the first time. Their second house in Kenilworth was at Clarendon Road.
There is one memory that stands out after I first left home. The first time I visited after Mum and Dad had moved to Kenilworth, I remember Dad picking me up from Coventry station in a (second hand) Singer Gazelle, an upmarket version of the Hillman Minx. It seemed a highly luxurious car at the time. They had come a long way from the hard times of the forties and fifties.
There is one memory that stands out after I first left home. The first time I visited after Mum and Dad had moved to Kenilworth, I remember Dad picking me up from Coventry station in a (second hand) Singer Gazelle, an upmarket version of the Hillman Minx. It seemed a highly luxurious car at the time. They had come a long way from the hard times of the forties and fifties.
2 comments:
Hi
Have you seen the 37th Kensington web site?
It might bring back some more memories. Your Akela was Ethel Holloway. I was in the pack from 1958 and then quickly went up to Scout.
Dave McVittie
The St Clement Danes playing fields are still there and, as yet, undeveloped. I was there '65-69. Could have done the 6th form but was eager for life. Years later I caught the bug and ended up back at Uni. The only thing I remember on the opposite side of Ducane Road was the cafe (1/6 for pie and chips, 1/10 for pie, chips and tea) but now the entire side of the road has been built on.
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