Hi -- what a great site
(you can cut to the chase by scrolling to the bold bits...)
I am trying to get a few of my parents memories from Liverpool of old, down on paper. At the moment I am working on Dads stories.
He was born in 1936 in Garston, the youngest of 11 kids.
He tells stories about:
being catholic in a street where one side was catholic and part of the other side was protestant;
the strong sense of community;
the street gambling, pubs, sing-songs;
the difference between those under the bridge and those not...etc
These days he is greatful for a plummed bathroom, heating and a more varied diet than jam butties at home and bananas pinched from the docks when opportunity knocked.
He thinks perhaps, however, his childhood made up for in (some kind of) culture and community, what it lacked in money and opportunity.
After childhood came the teens of course, and the 'King Street Cowboy' label, knocking round with the boys, then conscription...
After teens came slotting in to the life of the average scouser, getting married, kids, getting kicked out of Garston because their house was getting demolished, moving to speke, working at Dunlops for 10 years or more, an odd bevvy at the peggi...
In the 70s with all the forecast instability of the docks and industry, my family got out and moved to Australia.
At the moment I am writing a short story about a small event that happened in the 40s (I think). I will check with dad for a more specific date.
The story goes that there was a huge mound of coal dumped near king street, the industrial/dock area.
The way dad remembers it, the king street community pretty much decimated the mountain in a night!
Dad recalls the community, kids and adults alike, doing relays to the coal pile in the dark, carrying coal back by hand or in prams, barrows and baskets.
It was a big deal, as most could not afford enough coal to keep them warm all the time.
Dad recalls the event vividly through a childs eyes. His memory doesn't tell the whole story because I dont know who put the coal there, how the police dealt with it, what the adults of the community thought of the event...
None of that matters, his recollection is a fab story which paints an important picture of growing up under the bridge back then.
It would be great to hear from anyone who remembers the event, who has heard of it, or can track down any facts about it!
Anyone here that old or got great/grand/parents from Garston?
All help gratefully received, any other memories of that time? I would love to chat!
THANKS in advance