Memories of Northampton
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Year: 1953
Twentieth Century Club And Memories Of Bygone Times
I was born in Northampton in 1940, and lived there until December 1953. Both my dad and mum were Northampton born and bred, but while my mum's family go way back in time in the area, my dad's family mostly originated from London. However, dad was fairly well known due to being in the local boxing club, and playing in the Northampton brass band. In any event, he married my mum in 1939, and was almost immediately called up, due to the war commencing. During the following war years, my brother Michael was born, (mid war baby), and my other brother David was the inevitable demob baby. When dad was demobbed, we had already moved into a house in Grafton Place off Grafton Street, and then lived there until we moved to Dagenham Essex in 1953. My real memories of Northampton started after the war really, and we were probably the last generation to have real freedom, to be able to go to the parks, Saturday morning pictures, and virtually any where we wanted to, unattended by adults or chaperones. This did not mean we were feral by any means. In those days, no man was afraid to stop children doing wrong, and you knew that if your dad found out you had caused any trouble, you were in hot water. One of the highlights of the week for me and my friends, was the trip to the Temp, (old flea pit cinema), or the New Colosium to see the latest serial. Flash Gordon, Superman or Batman, and what value for money, 6d for a cartoon, pathe news, serial and main film. As there was no TV those days you made your own fun, which meant you joined the Scouts, Boys Brigade, YMCA or the Roadmenders boxing club, and, you also went out more as a family, which brings me to the title of this little essay. On Saturday nights, we as a family went to the Twentieth Century Club, where my dad used to play in a little dance band, run by a gentleman named Billy Mould. It used to be a regular Saturday night out, and my mum's brothers and sisters used to turn up too, for a night of dancing and fun, which was great, as that meant we usually had an extra bottle of lemonade and packet of crisps when they turned up. On Sunday night at the club it was the 'turns' which took the stage. The turns were anything from performing dogs to singers, and these performers did the clubs, much as they do nowadays, but much more restrained with language than today. These were quite happy days for my brothers and I, and although we did not have much, were satisfied with our lot. My last memory before moving from Northampton of the Twentieth Century Club was my dad playing with the band there, one of three functions he did the day when the Queen was crowned. We only went to the one at the club, which was at midday, and then to a party, which may or may not have been at the club afterwards, and dad went off to play at the other functions which were elsewhere in the town. The one thing I remember was it rained mostly all day. I still have a lot of relations in Northampton and the Northants area, and keep in touch with my uncle and aunts. Their family name is Bliss, and my families name is Claydon. My dad was known as Sammy, although his name was Sid, and my mum's name before marrying was Florence Bliss. We lived at 22 Grafton Place from about 1942 to 1953, and our neighbours were the Barfords, the Robinsons, the Hardwickes, the Wrigleys, the Harringtons, the Pages, and a lovely old lady named Mrs Edwards who lived next door to us. My nan lived for many years in Horsemarket near Radio Relay. I did visit Northampton about a year or so ago, and was amazed how it had changed, so a lot of which I remember has gone. My mum is still about thank goodness and reaches her 92nd birthday soon. I went to St Georges infants School St George's Road, Spring Lane Juniors, then on to Campbell Square Secondary Modern. I hope this missive prompts someone's memories about the Twentieth Century Club. Last edited: 11/19/2008 08:46 by Sydney Claydon |
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Year: 1930s
Gwendoline Hodges
It is as if my grandmother Gwendoline Edith Hunt, nee Hodges, has ceased to exist. For years and through various forums I have searched for information about her and her family (Wooton locals....Horace and Ethel Hodges who lived at Resthaven Road for many years) yet have had no luck. She is listed as having died at the age of 30 in 1941 at Parkfield Avenue. There is a bit of a sad tale, that she left 3 of her 4 children (one of which was my father) and put them on a bus to another relative, they were in foster care for many years. The other child, nobody seems to know what happened to her. So many questions, unanswered due to being unable to find any living relatives of hers. My father's family seem to have either selective memories or none. Foster care documents cite that she tried to contact her children prior to her death, but she was prevented by my grandfather who by all accounts was a very unpleasant and manipulative man. Names that appear in the foster care documents are Horace and Esther (her parents), Lucy, Percy and Evelyn her siblings. My father with his ailing memory recalls that Evelyn married a Frederick Ball prior to moving to Middlesex. Does anybody remember her? NHants council have no record of her burial. If anybody remembers her or her family, please let me know. Despite never knowing her, I find it tragic that her memory is all but gone and that she only exists in 3 photos. I am not certain if this is the appropriate forum, but thought that as this site is devoted to photographing memories of the are, maybe somebody has heard of my grandmother or her family. Sheridan Hunt-Davies, Melbourne, Australia Last edited: 9/26/2008 11:44 by Sheridan Davies |
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Year: 1940s
Memories Of War - The Forgotten Casualties (1) - by Patricia Bolter
I am entering these memories on behalf of my mother in law - Patricia Ross (nee Bolter) Running to meet Dad, just a young man, in uniform for the first time coming home to show us in pride. Providing for the family had been difficult, even tried sweeping snow. I have listened to "The Little Boy That Santa Clause Forgot", could only cry "I don't want my Dad to go away" but what does a 4 year old really understand. We had watched Dad and Uncles dig a shelter in our yard and played getting into it quickly, it was dark and damp. Mum fell down the steps but we were "SAFE. Save The Children? What have we learned? Fetching Granny and relatives to share our shelter for the first air raid, cushions on head for protection from shrapnel. Naive . . Issued with Mickey Mouse gas masks in a cardboard box with a shoulder string, the smell of rubber, no understanding of why they are necessary. Mum with 4 of us under 5 years, just a kid herself as she was only 17 when I was born. Now Dad is in the army. How will she cope. Dad decided that we would be safer evacuated so he took us to Windsor, a friend of Mum's came with her 3 children but it didn't work out - my sister badly cut her arm on a milk bottle. Then I remember being in another home, Tiverton this time with the owners. Mum was expecting her 4th child and when the child was born she called her Coralie after the daughter of the house who, as I recall, was in her early teens. I remember my 3rd sister sitting outside cuddling what I thought were 2 rabbits - one in each arm, but they were rats, that caused a commotion. But Mum got homesick and bought us all back home when Dad came home on leave, he was frightened for our safety. Anyway we had to go - Mum wouldn't come so we children were evacuated. We eldest 2 were awoken early for breakfast, a treat of Iced Gems - little biscuits . . which I've never been able to eat since. Our belongings in packs on our backs and labels to identify us. The station was packed with crying children and parents. I remember the smoking train, the last farewells, trying to be brave and smile, never the same again. Northampton - Arriving at the transit camp; a school hall, awaiting our collection. We were among the last to be assigned as I kept insisting that we not be parted; these had been my Dad's last instructions. Get the feeling we were in the way. Eventually go home with a lovely old couple; returned the next day old couple can't manage, new home. Now starts the real awareness of being a nuisance, in the way; don't eat too much, make a mess, noise, retaliate to son of house, must stay out of house Saturday and Sunday. Wander unfamiliar streets, cold and hungry, were discovered in an air raid shelter trying to keep warm with a box of matches by a kind lady who warmed and fed us, beaten for falling in a pig sty while watching them to pass a wet Sunday afternoon, beaten for treading on wet floor. My teacher asked me if we were being ill treated but at 5, in a strange world and frightened, dare one confess, anyway my sister got re-housed so we were split up, she went to a lovely home, was treated like a princess. I being the eldest had been well trained and became a little skivvy. The householder became pregnant hence relieved of her obligation to house me, so after months, which seemed like years, I was passed on to a cheery couple, old but kind. Now I settle into a pattern of life different, but happier, free to come and go until 1945, though not without incident . . . visits to the delousing station and the government store for clothes. I roamed the spinney and once a plane crashed there and we kids found body parts scattered and a man still in the tail, I wonder did he live? We had solid shelters in the street (a Crescent) where I lived and once a plane, seemed to me, to land on one and the pilot asked if there was any open space. I gave him directions and he landed safely. Later we all went round to look and he recognised me among the crowd, it didn't strike me as strange at the time, though now I don't think I'm believed, did I dream it? Baby-minding took on a new meaning, the daughter of the house, whose husband was in the navy, was living a secret existence enjoying a good time with the "Yanks". I would mind baby in the park while she went on to rendezvous with the promise of gum or chocolate . I never did get any . Or I would help her take off her make up and put her hair in rags before her Mum and Dad came in from the pub on Saturday evenings, making believe she had been home all evening, I having cared for her child yet only one myself really. The son of the home (Albert) was in the army, he sang with the band. I heard him sing 'Dearly Beloved" on the radio once, how I loved it. Sometimes on a summer evening taken to a pub and offering my rendering of "I Don't Want To Set The World On Fire". (continued in Pt.2) Last edited: 8/26/2008 09:25 by Jane Ross |
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Year: 1940s
When Young
goint to the Savoy Cinema to see and hear the Compton Organ, the cinema has now been bought by thr Jesus people & restored to its 1930,s decoration. the name of Alan Ashton rings a bell, was he conected to the Savoy/ABC cinema years ago. the town has altered quite a lot since those days of the 1940/50,s not as i like it these days. i am in my late years now (75) but love the past. Posted: 12/30/2007 13:24 by Brian Coward |
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