Having sandwiches in Dad’s hut …….. 2

One dank and miserable day, we had been indoors most of the day, Dad going in and out seeing ‘to things’ and I had been doing my usual ‘things’ and it had been very quiet and almost boring (I had my books). The day became foggy as the evening drew on so, when I went round with Dad to lock up, I really had to watch where I was going. So holding on to Dad’s hand and watching the ground I trundled round with him. The mist got gradually thicker and it was quite frightening. We locked the top gate and started to walk alongside the hedge down towards Manor Road Gate. Suddenly I saw something on the ground and picked it up – it was folded up and was a £10 pound note!!! My Dad scowled at me (as he often did!!) and told me not to be foolish but I put it in my pocket so that when we got back to his hut I could prove it was not just a sweet wrapper. So we continued the routine of locking up, but when we returned to the hut I left the paper in my pocket and then we set off home. Once we reached the house there was no holding me as I ran up the entry, into the kitchen and told Mam all about what had happened, she was astonished as Dad, didn’t believe it either. I pulled the paper out of my pocket and there it was – a £10 pound note!!! It was like finding a £50 note in today’s money. I had to put it straight into my money box, a special one that had to be opened at the bank and the money paid into my bank account. I was thrilled to think I had all that money in my bank but I can’t for the life of me remember what I spent it on!!

Having sandwiches in Dad’s hut

This was sharing to the utmost!!! It was always such a private moment between Dad and me; but then he always shared his food with me, especially the bones off his chops, and the tripe out of his Tripe and Onions. It was through this sharing of bones that I learnt how to strip them ….. if I moved away from him then there would be no more from that meal!!!!
Mam always used to moan but Dad ignored her and I know now that she didn’t mind really, she was just being a mom. I was the last child born after the war finished so when I reached the interesting stage – 2years old – Dad had left the army and was trying to find work, along with hundreds of other ex-service people. Dad must have spent a lot of time at home but it was before I was old enough to really appreciate this.
My earliest memory as I have said previously was when I was three and I broke my leg. My next memories are of school so I wasn’t aware that Mam and Dad’s relationship was any different to when my brother and sister were small – they were just there!!! Dad did not have a lot to do with my siblings as children because, although before the war Mam was in married quarters usually on the base, unfortunately the war was on and he was away during the best times to get to know them.
Dad was the centre of my universe, I always felt that I had a special relationship with him but was not aware that I was ‘spoilt’. During the school holidays I spent a lot of time with him, me and Frieda – although she was not privy to a lot of what went on as she would stay in the street playing with the other children, using her own home as a base. I opened up the park with him on the days that Mam worked and closed it again at night, if it was before my bedtime or around that time. Mam would make sandwiches for us both for breakfast, mostly jam. Dad would pick up a loaf of bread and something for us to have for lunch from the shop for lunch and maybe tea. Sometimes Dad opened the top of the oven and toasted the bread, my job being to spread the marg and jam. We couldn’t always do this as the fire was not hot enough, some days it always seemed to just smoke which filled the hut very quickly. Dad always sent me into the other room and told me to shut the door and stay there till he told me to come out. I didn’t mind as I had my book and I could look out of the window. The window looked onto the Manor Road gate so I could watch the people going to and fro and also those in their gardens. On Toasty days we saved the sandwiches for tea! They were always slightly mashed and bent, with the jam running into the bread – unless you have taken jam sandwiches on a picnic - you have no idea of the taste. For lunch we would have sausage or bacon sandwiches or such like, always followed by a piece of Mam’s apple pie. Mam would make a bacon and egg pie which we would have for lunch, this was delicious although I was not always keen on the soggy bits!!! Alternatively she could make us some soup or stew and Dad would warm this up on the stove and we would have it with bread. Dad’s table was a small fold up one, may have been a card table I am not sure as there was nearly always a plastic cloth over it. I don’t recall where he kept the cutlery and plates etc or the bowl for washing, I think that the only cupboard as I remember was a single wardrobe like one in the other room. He kept his paperwork, small tools and things in there. I had a hook on the back of the door at my height for me to hang my coat and bag (always brought the bag with my books, colouring and writing stuff, sewing, sometimes a jigsaw). The days were long, quite boring at times, although in the summer I could escape out into the park, but always where Dad could see me. Having to stay close to the hut, I found that I could collect leaves and flowers and ‘explore’ round the changing rooms hut. I even had a vase for my picked flowers although the garden that I made just outside the hut never came to anything!! Dad superior, Mr Douggan, came on a Friday at some time to give him his wage packet and I always, always had to be out of the way when he came. I met him once or twice when I was ill, probably tonsillitis from which I suffered a lot. The Superintendent was another ex army officer and Dad would make him a cup of tea and they would sit and chat. I had to be invisible on these visits, I didn’t know then why but now I realise that Dad could have lost his job if it was known that he was looking after me while he was at work.

Manor Road Recreation Ground........Playing games

Sometimes for reasons best known to himself, Dad would not allow me to play down the bottom end so then decisions had to be made, whether the others wanted to play down there without me or up top with me. Invariably, if Sarah M was with them, then they would play down the bottom and I would play by myself up top. This didn’t always bother me because I was on my own a lot, many of the children hung about the bakery and the railway and in the street so, me being in the park, I was on my own!!
Dad’s hut and the changing rooms were built into a dip in the land at the top of the hill. A flat area had been dug out to contain these two buildings with three little narrow steps cut into the side so that the rest of the top park (which was basically football and/or cricket pitches) could be accessed. This ‘drop’ was only about 3ft and could be jumped quite easily so us children could access anywhere on this area as there was an (we called it a gulley) access area all round these buildings. Quite a neat area to play in, with plenty of hiding places although it was sooo exposed.

Dad’s hut
Two changing rooms / toilets


SHOULD BE A MAP - DARN IT!!!!! I'LL DO IT ONE DAY!!!! :-)



So long as we kept the noise down Dad didn’t mind us playing here and I think he quite enjoyed watching us although, if he came out to go ‘on patrol’, he would never let on that he knew where any of us were hiding!! We usually played out non-cowboy films here as the grass was quite short, so we had to use the buildings as ‘protection’. It was great fun but very limited, there is only so much you can do in such a small area and only so many times you can run round buildings!!
When I was on my own I tended to play in the area behind the changing rooms; the grass was short, as this small piece of land was lumpy, so there were various games that could be played by oneself. Sometimes when on the opening walk with Dad I would collect leaves and flowers, then sew small garments for the fairies which I would leave out in appropriate places i.e. under the shelter of the hut or in a dip in the ground. Other times I would run up or down the dips, lie on my back just watching the clouds overhead and listening to the skylarks. I would imagine I went to sleep during these times as it was very relaxing to just lie there, watching and listening. There were several patches of weeds growing there and around the bases of the huts so sometimes I would pick bunches of flowers for Dad’s hut. Quite often when Dad went out ‘on patrol’ and I was left alone in there, I would pretend it was my house and clean it up and sweep it out – loving every minute of it.
Dad used to go out ‘on patrol’ every couple of hours or so, walking round the full perimeter of the park, checking gates, chatting to people walking the dog, watching out for ‘trouble’ i.e. flashers, suspicious looking characters and courting couples.
Now there is another subject – Courting couples!
Dad was well known locally for being quite strict with goings on in his park. If he saw any couples strolling across the bottom half of the park, he would keep and eye on them as they moved, or stopped – as the case may be. As soon as they were seen to be lying down in the long grass, my Dad was out of that hut and down to them whereupon he would be heard to say “Oi! If you’re stopping here then one lies down and one sits up!” it was quite a joke in the area but there was also respect as they always complied. I think that Dad needed to know that they were ok and while one head was visible he could rest easy.
Dad kept watch over the park and if he thought someone was up to ‘no good’ like a single man hovering near the children, older teenagers throwing stones or looking as though they were bullying younger ones, he was out of that hut and moving very fast!! Gradually it became well known in the area that the park was a very safe place for people and children to be. Dad cared about that park, so much so that he regularly mowed and marked out the pitches for the football and cricket teams, marking all the lines with a white wash of lime.

Manor Road Park .... again ...

As I have said on a previous post, after we had been to the pictures on a Saturday afternoon, we quite often went over the park to playout our ideas of the films that we had watched. Now you must understand that, with my Dad as Parkie, I was sometimes limited in where I could play but if he came down to stop us playing in a certain place then we moved to where he said we could play. This was not always what the others wanted so I would have to leave them and go back to the hut with him. But on a good day …….. if we had seen a cowboy film that day then we would attempt to play down the bottom end, in among the long grass. Invariably we would split into two groups, cowboys and Indians!!! I was always in the Indians group but much as I didn’t mind crawling through the long grass, I hated coming upon the manholes. I can remember being caught once upon a time and being told that I would be thrown down the manhole. I must have had a fit!!!! It never happened again – so I suppose I had better explain what it was about the manholes.
Once I enquired what the manhole was as I stood staring down into it, and the adult with me (possibly my sister as we often walked back from Mass through the park) informed me that was where nasty men put their children after they had kidnapped them!!! If I listened carefully I would be able to hear them crying but that I mustn’t go too close or he would grab me and pull me down. I had this vision of all these poor children down there crying and sobbing and wanting their mams so they were places to avoid. Sometimes, when I was really brave and alone but knew my Dad could see me, I would tiptoe to the edge of these covers and look down. They appeared to be full of grass and some had flowers growing in them – but some just went down and down, and there were ‘funny’ noises coming from them. These I made a note of and avoided at all costs! I have always had a fear of walking on them since then, even over the 'doors' to the cellars that used to be along the pavements. I couldn't have told anyone about it, it seemed such a small thing but still gives me the creeps now.
It is only in my adult life, possibly my forties that I realised they were the access covers to the sewers and the ‘noise’ was the running water way down below as people flushed their loos and emptied their sinks.

More games ..........

We often played out in the street when I was young because it was a side road and the entrance to the Bakery became an exit so nothing left during the day. Also the railway siding was always interesting, with trains and workmen. And then there was the Park! So my playground was anywhere and everywhere but my parents never knew where I was half the time …. only the general direction.
Games in the street consisted mainly of ball games, skipping and hopscotch. I loved hopscotch but not when Sarah Macklewham played!! There were two types of layout for Hopscotch,
1 (I did have the two layouts here but can't find how to upload, perhaps another day!)















The first layout meant that you threw the slate into square one, hop scotched up to it, picked it up and hop scotched back. You kept repeating this so long as you managed to get your slate into the square, if you missed the square then you lost your go and it was the next person’s turn. After you had completed all the numbers, you could then play again but this time any square you landed on you could claim as your own by drawing a line across the corner with your initials in. No-one else could tread in that square and had to hop over it.

(another diagram here!)

I loved to reach the top of the first layout, although it took me some time to get there as I wasn’t very good at aiming the slate so when I did complete it was a real win for me, and to get my initials in a square – a rare happening!!! How I loved that game!
Sarah would always play the second type and I hated it, basically because I didn’t have much sense of balance or how to kick the darn slate!!! Whenever I fell over or kicked the slate out of the square you could guarantee that Sarah was yelling the loudest ‘out’ and sometimes I am sure she would yell just to make me fall over. You started off the same way throwing your slate into square one but then you had to kick it round the hopscotch back to the start. I hated this one mainly because I could never, never kick the slate back out of the hopscotch, it would keep going into adjacent squares to the one I wanted!!! Nightmare time and as I said I am sure Sarah picked this one so she could make more fun of me. Sometimes the game would be finished by all of them and I was still struggling to get from number four!!
Occasionally the road was re-gritted and this meant that the gutters had runny hot tar in them and also round the drains. We would find lollypop sticks or twigs and sit on the kerb stones and collect the tar on the sticks and then ‘write’ along the kerb stones. Our mothers hated us doing this and when we got into the house we would be sent outside again to strip off our outer clothing. Then the butter would be rubbed over all the tar patches on our skin, and how they were rubbed!!! We would be left with red patches but all the tar would be gone. After this we had to get back in the house to wash all these patches to remove the butter and then get dressed in some clean clothes. I never knew how my mother removed the tar from our clothes, but looking at what I have written and having had my own children, I know now that it is a nightmare time for mothers – I can remember the first time one of mine came in after playing with the tar – horror of horrors!! But then I remembered the butter and made the same mistakes as my mother, and countless others through time, concentrating on removal of tar one forgets that there is a child underneath!!
When I moved to Hall Green, most of the children were older than me and were boys, so the hopscotch became a rarity and instead we played ‘Hot Rice’! ugh!! Although us girls joined in we soon left the game and formed a little group a short distance away and sometimes, only sometimes, played hopscotch.

More tales from Manor Road Park - Sandpits

At the bottom of the hill in the park were two sandpits, we used to have to run down to these or come in along the bottom of the hill from Manor Road bottom gate. Coming in from Manor Road bottom gate, a hill had to be climbed in order to get to my Dad’s hut. This hill was based on sand and the path up the hill consisted of rain gulleys in this first part, producing very uneven ground through the sand. Further along the hill there were two more places where the rain had washed away the vegetation, but this time the sand at the bottom of these hills had been turned into sandpits for the children to play in. There were two of these gulleys/paths so there were two sandpits, one larger than the other. ‘Me and my friends’ hated it when children from other ‘gangs’ came to play in these pits, they were ours and if there was trouble then the cry rang out ‘she’ll tell her Dad, he’s the parkie!’ so we always won the right to play. One day we built this superb castle, really large, took up the whole sandpit with a moat round it as well, fetching water in buckets from Dad’s tap (outside I might add). It took most of the day and, as my Dad was parkie and I could be there all day, I was security!! Well, we played until it was time to close the park, they went home and I stayed with the castle until Dad left and we walked home. Next morning I was up ready to go back to the castle, so there I was with Dad opening up but me going across to the sandpit. Some of the gang drifted in during the day and we continued to decorate, searching out all sorts of décor from our surroundings. I stayed till close of park again that day, leaving someone to watch while I went and had lunch with Dad – the jam sandwiches! Next day I opened up with Dad and rushed over to the Castle but ….. somehow ….. someone ….. or something …… had trampled our wonderful creation, not totally destroyed it but caused a lot of heartbreak. I ran to find my Dad, where ever he was, and told him about what I had found, I was distraught – crying and sobbing. He came down straight after he had finished opening up the park and was as amazed as me. He did not see how anyone could have entered the park during the night so put it down to animals, either foxes or a badger. Being such a large park, animals had the run of the place at night and I know that there were several badger sets around the bank under the allotments. So that was that ……… when the others came they half heartedly tried to rebuild but the magic had gone out of it. They drifted off after a while and a couple of us stayed to restore it but eventually we had to admit defeat so ……… we kicked it all about and levelled it out, no-one would ever know it was there. I only wish that there had been more cameras in use in those days so I could’ve taken a photo as I have never seen another sandcastle like that one, turrets and moat and all, even the man on Weymouth beach could not make one like that!!!

Tales from Manor Road Recreation Ground.

My Dad was the Park Keeper of the place, and his hut was on top of the hill with a good view of most of the park. It was a two roomed hut, one had his fire, chair and table and the other room was for equipment and coal for his fire. It was very basic living quarters but it was his and I was very proud of the fact that it therefore belonged to me, only Frieda was ever allowed inside for any length of time, everyone else stood on the step and peered in. I was very proud of my Dad, in his uniform he still cut quite a dash and he must have been in his late forties / early fifties then. During school holidays I stayed with him while Mam went to work, I opened the park with him and I closed the park with him, that job must have been wonderful for my Mam as both of us were ‘out of the way’ during those long summer days ........ did I ever say that the sun was always shining!!
My Dad talked to everyone and anybody, usually telling them about his army days but they were good stories at first, after about 10 tellings they began to get a bit boring!!!! He was friends with several of the people whose gardens adjoined the park, chatting to them over the fence.
One lady lived in a very large house, the ‘road’ (it was only tarmac from the main road up to her gate then it was just a ‘bridlepath’ as it was called) led into the park at the top of the hill, and opposite her gate was the entrance to the allotments which ran almost the whole length of that side of the park to another road. Her land was massive and was bordered by hawthorn etc hedging, which grew wild and thick. Part of her land met the park and formed a boundary along the park on top of the hill. Her house could sometimes be seen through the hedging but usually only in the wintertime, it was very old and very rambling, falling down in places. Us children knew it as the 'witch’s house' and used to try to work out whether she was still alive or not.
One day my Dad decided to take me to meet with her and I held onto his hand very tightly!!! We opened the gate and walked up this long overgrown driveway (path) to the front door, the porch was falling down, the step was tiled and all the paintwork was brown. Eventually the door opened and I nearly wet myself!
This very old, wizened, little lady in quite bright but old clothes down to the ground stood there. She beamed when she saw it was my Dad, her crinkled face had a mouth that contained about two teeth, and stood to one side to invite him in, ooohh! I hadn’t expected to go in!!! We walked down this long dark tiled hallway full of old things and very dusty into a lovely sunlit room, still full of very old things including photographs, but it looked really homely and was obviously where she spent most of her time. The French windows were open and there were cats everywhere, all shapes, colours and sizes – magic land! Dad introduced me to Miss Davey and then went off to make the tea while she asked me all the usual questions – "how old are you? What school did I go to? Did I like to read books?" You know what it’s like. Then Dad came back with the tray all laid very nicely with china cups and a larger cup for him. Dad placed the tray on the side table by Miss Davey and she proceeded to pour the tea and pass it out to us, then offered us biscuits from a china plate. I felt like royalty. Soon I got bored so Miss Davey asked if I would do a small job for her; she had a rather large ginger tom cat with one eye who was a naughty boy because he hadn’t come home for his lunch – would I go and find him and then let her know where he was. I had to be careful because he didn’t like children so I mustn’t touch him, in fact several cats were like this so while I was looking for him I had to be very careful. Off I went through the French windows and lo and behold! Cats everywhere! Even more kinds and sizes! Some were little kittens! Anyway off I trouped, oh! What joy! All this exploring to do in the ‘witch’ garden and with her permission!! Further round from the French windows was this very old conservatory, falling down and overgrown like the rest of the place. There were fruit trees in an old orchard, a shed full of cobwebs, lots of fruit bushes and all sorts of flowers with the proverbial nettles and blackberries. I looked for a black cat and steered clear of that one, some I stroked, some ran away, some just growled at me but I couldn’t find the large ginger tom with one eye.
Ages later I heard Dad calling and had to find my way back to the house, I told Miss Davey I couldn’t find the cat but she said that was alright, if I liked (if I liked!?!??) I could back another day and try to find him. So quite often Dad and I would go visit Miss Davey, him talking her to death and me looking for cats! My friends didn’t believe me until one day Dad, in front of them, said he was going to see Miss Davey and did I want to come. They all followed at a distance and saw me go in by the gate and walk up to the house, them hanging around the gate watching till I was out of sight!!! Status for a while!! They would not believe that she was just an elderly, very kind, single lady. She was a witch!!!
Years later I found out that Dad used to go to the shop at the end of the road to fetch his cigarettes and would call in to see if she wanted anything. She usually had a list – how did she know he was calling?!! – and so that’s how Dad came to have a cup of tea with ‘the witch’ who turned out to be a very, very, nice lady. I suppose she had been out in her garden one day and Dad, being Dad, started talking to her and they became good friends. She probably never saw many, if any, people so appreciated Dad’s company. I have often wondered what happened to her, her house and land. My playground became Swimming Baths and the rest is a big housing estate now, her house and land, all the park and the allotments have all gone. Progress!

The Queen's Coronation

I don’t remember much about the Royal Family until the Coronation, which was the first time I knew about the ‘news’ but didn’t take much notice of it anyway. The arrangements for the street party must have been going on for some time before I knew anything about it. It was when my mother told me I was going into a fancy dress party as Britannia!! Mam made my helmet & dress and Dad made the twirly bits for my helmet and made my shield. My helmet was silver, shield had to be red, white & blue on silver background and my dress was white. I remember that there was much spray painting as you couldn’t get silver paint as such. My helmet took a lot of fitting as well because Mam only had a ladies’ head block and when the felt was sprayed silver it became very stiff. My brother went as a baby, just a white towel round his nether region, a sun hat and a bottle filled with cold tea hanging round his neck!!! I don’t remember my sister going but then she probably dressed up as a lady so that she didn’t look silly. Everyone contributed to the meal which was eaten by the children from tables laid out in the middle of the road down by our house. The parade from what I can remember took place in the first half of the road before the tea, my brother won a prize – I think it was first but would not say for definite. He probably won for his cheek as he was a real performer and played up to most things!! After the tea and ‘us kids’ had gone to bed then the elders had their ‘party’, I was asleep but the noise of the laughter and singing woke me a couple of times but not enough for me to get out of bed. And that was the Coronation for me! Not much different to any other day!!!

Tales from Atlas Pictures

Atlas Picture house down Flaxley Road, Stechford was a magical place for me. There was a children’s programme every Saturday afternoon, to which I was allowed to go. So that was my Saturday taken up, spending my 1s (shilling – old money) pocketmoney. I don’t know how old I was when I started going, don’t know how long I went there but ……….. this is how I remember my Saturdays.
12.45 we had lunch, usually Sausage and Mash with cabbage then, and only when I had cleared my plate, would I get my shilling. Then outside we would all meet up and wander down Station Road hill to the shops, they are not there now and the factory is a retail park. In the sweet shop we jostled to choose and buy our sweets a whole 3d (three pennies) could be spent here and then we all walked round the corner to the picture house (now a Bingo Hall I believe). We usually had to queue up as the doors didn’t open until 13.30 and then we paid our sixpence (6d) and went inside although the show didn’t start until 14.00hrs. the show always started with some form of promotional film – documentary – and then we had the main features which were usually some sort of Cowboy & Indian followed by another B film (Flash Gordon was my favourite) in between which we had our ice cream which cost my last 3d then we had another short film about Road Safety which meant that we often left the cinema singing the song – Look Left Look Right and if it’s all clear – Cross the Road. Great fun, even the policeman who crossed us over used to laugh at us. Then we had the walk back up the hill, usually discussing the film and, if it was fine, arranging to meet up in the park (lots more stories there!) When I got home I was ready for my tea but, as the football results came on at 17.00hrs, I usually had to sit quiet as my dad marked off the football results on his pools coupon. That was always an interesting experience as I sometimes tried to predict the scores by the way that the commentator read them out, his voice going up for the winning team and down for the losers.
If it was fine I would then go out after tea and play in the park with my friends, usually meeting up to re-enact what we had seen on screen that afternoon.