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Thread: Hullo Old Home

  1. #1
    Senior Member brian daley's Avatar
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    Default Hullo Old Home

    My name is Brian Daley,I was born 65 years ago in Stanley Rd.Hospital,and
    started out in life in Kirkdale.We lived in Medlock St. and then Fountains Rd.,spending a short with Grandma in Eton St. before moving to Toxteth.
    We seemed to be one step ahead of the rentman all my young life.In 1952 we moved to Speke Rd. Gardens in Garston,the first place we could really call home.We lived in a 3 bedroomed tenement,which my mother kept spotless.My elder sister and I were given household chores,which meant polishing the brasswork and furniture ,we earned our pocket money by helping to make the house a home.
    We lived in Garston until 1960,by which time I was in my second year at sea,and the family moved to Kirkby,to an old ROF house.It had a garden,our first,and the road was so quiet after the "Tennies" that it took the family some time to adjust.
    I was at sea when they moved in and,although I knew they were moving to Kirkby,they omitted to send me the address.
    I found them by asking in the first pub I saw when I got off the train,The Railway,yes they knew my Dad and pretty soon I was back with the family.But not for long,I left Liverpool in 66',shipping out of London and the Continent for a while.After meeting a beautiful young lady at a shipmates wedding in Oswestry,I ended up moving to Birmingham,where she lived.That was in December 1968,we were married in February !969,and are still together. We now live in Tamworth in the middle of England,this our thirty first year in the place and we love it down here.
    I am still a Liverpudlian,I was made in those streets,taught in Tiber Street and Gilmour Heath Rd. schools.The city,my teachers,my parents and family gave me my dreams and aspirations.I was a paper boy,an Appletons delivery boy,worked on Garston market,all while at school.My first job after leaving school was with W.E.Kearns,the butchers.All of those jobs were just filling in time until I could go to sea.Which I did in '58.
    I have a lot to thank Liverpool for,and I now take my children,and grandchildren to the land of my chidhood and they are beginning to love it too.
    I've just realised that I have gone on a bit long ,so I will say goodbye for now and post some more in the future.
    BrianD


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    Creator & Administrator Kev's Avatar
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    Bloody 'ell Brian

    Terrific to read and a warm welcome aboard mate, this is the perfect place for such a fine fellow

    Kev

    PS have you checked out the Liverpool Houses section in the Liverpool Past area of the forum? You might find some piccies or put a request in.
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    Senior Member robbo176's Avatar
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    Hi Brian welcome to Yo
    I went to Tiber Street school,what years did you teach there?

    Mandy
    If you can't dazzle them with brilliance,baffle them with bull

    http://www.bmycharity.com/laurenrobinson please give generously to childrens cancer charity Clic sergent

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    Senior Member ChrisGeorge's Avatar
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    Hi Brian

    Great to read all this. Welcome to the site. That's quite a "Scouse Story" you told.... Much enjoyed. You didn't go on too long. I'd like to hear more of your memories, mate.

    Chris
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    PhilipG
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    Welcome Brian.

    Very interesting story.
    I think you meant you were taught in Tiber Street.

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    Senior Member robbo176's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by PhilipG View Post
    Welcome Brian.

    Very interesting story.
    I think you meant you were taught in Tiber Street.
    Oh yes, sorry I misread that
    If you can't dazzle them with brilliance,baffle them with bull

    http://www.bmycharity.com/laurenrobinson please give generously to childrens cancer charity Clic sergent

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    chippie
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    Welcome Brian, what a story, I hope you enjoy the forum, they could use walking bookshops like you.

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    Senior Member brian daley's Avatar
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    I'd like to thank you all for such a warm welcome,sorry if I led you to believe that I was a teacher,it was a grammatical error.But I was at Tiber St. from 1946 until 1952,the year King George V1 died.
    I'd love to catch up with some of the kids I went to school with,Ikey Harris,Tony and John Sproule,John Gerrard,Billy Duncan and the whole pantheon of kids who peopled my life in Lodge Lane.
    It's easy to view life through rose tinted glasses,but I loved it all,the impetigo,boils and warts,we were all bloody poor,but we had fun.
    Come May Days,when we had our own little procession,dressed in rags,true back entry diddlers.We had what a lot of kids today dont have,hope!!!!
    Our teachers,having come through a war,some of them two wars,used to fill our heads with dreams of a better world,little raggedy arsed mites being taught that there was a field marshalls baton in every privates knapsack.
    We still had an Empire where we could go and make a future,our classrooms had posters of liners in foriegn ports,maps of the world all covered in pink,as Arthur Daley would say"The World really was our Lobster"
    I'll be back up there tomorrow,28th of July,thats where my daughter wanted to go for her birthday present!
    We used to believe the words to Land of Hope and Glory,you should,if you live there.If you should come across a bald ,bearded,fat geyser wearing glasses and a hat,walking about town with a young lady and two grandchildren,grinning manically,that'll be me ,'cos I'm home.
    BrianD

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    Senior Member lindylou's Avatar
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    Hi'ya. Nice to meet you on the forum. keep posting

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    Senior Member Lady's Avatar
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    Hello Brian,

    Lovely to read your posts, you will enjoy it here the people are very friendly,

    Look forward to more of your postings,

    Jacky x

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    Gerard
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    Hello Brian and welcome

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    Senior Member brian daley's Avatar
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    Smile Liverpool,land of my childhood

    Well,we got to Liverpool on the 28th.No disappointments to report.
    We drove in through from Runcorn,so that we could see the Airport and Bryant and Mays,both of which played a big part in my childhood.
    It was free to go into the airport then, and we children would sit on the balcony for hours,watching and dreaming.We would wonder where those silver birds were flying to,they were all propeller driven and glamorous.
    Bryant and Mays was where Mum and big sister worked,we lived in the tenements across the road,and,when the works hooter sounded a flood of green overalled,white turbanned women would spill across the road and through the gates.I cannot watch Chigley with my grandchildren without being reminded of the matchworks.
    We drove on through Garston and Grassendale, where I had my first job as a paperboy.I delivered to all those beautiful big houses in the Serpentine and surrounding avenues.
    As we passed along Aigburth Rd.,on our way to Sefton Park,I called to mind a time when I was an errand boy for Appletons hardware store in St. Marys Rd. in Garston.
    I had one of those bikes with a basket in front,and one very cold winter Saturday, my boss Mr. Moore,told me he had a big order for the Nurses Home in Grassendale;a 2 trip job!
    Well,I loaded up for my first trip,the basket was so full and my load so heavy that I had to stand on my pedals just to keep moving.The bitterly cold wind was biting into my cheeks and I was frozen stiff by the time I got there. The cooks were busy getting lunch ready for the nurses as I cycled back for my second load.The second trip was even worse, for the wind had strengthened and I was really at the limit of my powers................
    I arrived in a cold and frozen heap,the kitchen window was opened and through it came the aroma of steak pudding,boiled potatoes,gravy and carrots etc. etc.
    The cook took one look at my frozen physog and asked " Are you hungry son?"My heart leapt! "Yes" I replied.She disappeared into the kitchen and my head filled with visions of a steaming feast.She returned,"ere yar"she said ,handing me a single spring onion!!
    Back to Saturday,we went on through Sefton Park and I was thrilled to see that the houses surrounding the park were being refurbished.My memory of them was of dereliction and decay.The last time I was in the Park was as part of a contingent of Birmingham Trade Unionist's,taking part in the start of the Peoples March for Jobs.Days of Hope eh!

    You know,I've got so many memories from that park alone that I fear I will bore you all rigid ,so I'll stop right here,because if I move beyond those Park gates and into Lodge Lane,I'll end up being barred from the site.
    Geez, my head is spinning with so many stories that want to be told.
    Thanks for reading so far
    BrianD

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    Senior Member gorgeous's Avatar
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    Oh Brian ,
    What lovely memories , I really enjoyed reading them ,
    My dad was at Tiber 1943/49 as were his sisters & brother , surname Minton , They also lived at 69 Tiber St, (small world hey ,)

    Take Care ,
    i look forward to reading more of your posts,
    Love Karen

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    Senior Member Jericho's Avatar
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    Great posts. George Melly said that Liverpool marks its children (in a good way), and your posts demonstrate that.

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    DaisyChains
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    welcome aboard !!

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    Senior Member brian daley's Avatar
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    Default Going back to my beginnings

    I am a child of a mixed marriage,something that is not given a thought nowadays,but in 1940 it was considered outrageous.
    Mum was from a protestant family,and Dad a catholic one.Seems hard to believe now,but it near tore both families apart.
    They were very much in love,and could not be dissuaded from seeing each other.My Mum had the support of her elder brother ,through whom she met Dad.All of Dads family were set against the marriage,the parish priest used to rail against Dad.But their love for each other held firm,and they decided against a church wedding,and got wed in a registry office instead.
    This upset both families,they were to be considered as living in sin and for the first few years of married life were ostracised by all but a few brave siblings.
    When my sister was born in 1940 ,Mum allowed her to be baptised a catholic,as a sop to her mother in law.
    In '42,when I turned up,my parents decided,in view of the anger that the protestants felt in my sister being made a catholic,determined that I was to be left "Unchurched"
    So, after making my debut in Stanley Rd. hospital,I was taken home to Mum and Dads rooms in Medlock St.
    I was 11 pounds at birth and my poor old mother was confined to bed to get over her ordeal.
    On her third day in bed,my Dads 15 year old brother turned up and asked Mum if she would like him to take me for an outing in my pram so that she could have a rest.She was really pleased that he could be so thoughtful ,and said yes.
    What she was not to know was that my Nin,the catholic grandma,was waiting at the bottom of the street with her hubby and various offspring,all in their best Sunday clothes.They were off to a christening.......,mine!
    I was returned by my uncle, none the worse for wear,but with a baptismal certificate pinned to the coverlet.
    When the protestants learned of this,in their minds,infamy,I was taken for another walk by a protestant aunt,this time returning with an anglican baptismal cerificate.
    My early childhood was spent pretending that I was a catholic with one side and a protestant with the other.I can enjoy the humour of it now,but it was a lot to cope with then.
    I learned to love my mixed family,it was a lot more interesting than being on the one side.I did not get confirmed in any of the faiths,I believe in God,but not in religion.
    I'll post some more some time,
    BrianD
    Last edited by brian daley; 07-07-2008 at 01:59 PM.

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    Senior Member john's Avatar
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    " If you know your history, then you would know where you coming from".


    "I could have been a footballer - but I had a paper round"..Yosser Hughes

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    Junior Member CHRISMIZ's Avatar
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    Default Hullo Old Home

    I really enjoyed reading your posts Brian.Y'know you should keep copies of them and add to them, I'm sure loads of people would like to read a book full of your memories. Of course you should post them on here first , Hope to read more soon..

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    Senior Member brian daley's Avatar
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    Default Hullo old home

    I would like to thank everyone who replied to my posting.
    I enjoy the fact that you enjoy my memories,I would like to share with you many more of them and,God willing,hope that I don't bore you.
    Kind Regards to you all
    BrianD

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    Senior Member lindylou's Avatar
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    As Chrismiz says, your memories would make an interesting book.

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    Senior Member brian daley's Avatar
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    Default Life in Kirkdale

    I was a sickly baby,in and out of hospital,more time in than out.
    My Mum said if was'nt for M.& B. tablets,I would have snuffed it at 3 months.
    So ,life did'nt really get started for me until I was two and a half.That was when they let me out of Heswall. I have no memories of things before that date.
    We now lived in 2 rooms in a big old house in Fountains Rd.It seemed a magical place to me,there were three other families sharing the house and I remember one of them in particular,the McElwains.(I dont know if that is the right spelling,but thats how it sounded).
    Mr.McElwain was an Irishman,he always wore a hat,an unbuttoned waistcoat and a collarless shirt.A pipe was always clamped between his lips,from between which I never heard an unkind word.He had a little dog called Tess,a dachsund, which my sister and I loved dearly.
    We never met Mr.McElwains wife or son ,it was still wartime and they were "somewhere else";his son had a big toy box in their room and old Mr M. would let me play in there.My Dad had'nt been called up,he was an aircraft fitter and could'nt be spared.So in that old house,in 2 small rooms,I started out life surrounded by love and security.
    Even though I was a mere babe I knew there was a war,there were lots of soldiers marching down our road from time to time,when I asked my Mum where they were going she would simply answer"The war".........I grew up thinking the war was a place.Dad did his bit too, he was a part time fireman in the AFS,when he was at work I used to wear his helmet.I was so proud to see him in his blues.
    When I was 3 ,the war was over ,peace was declared 2 days after my birthday and decorations were hung out in the streets.All of this was new to me , I don't recall seeing any decorations before that time.My Nin lived in the next street ,Tintern St. ;there was a space were some houses had been that were lost in the Blitz,and in that space a bonfire was built.A cable was strung across the street at roof level and an effigy of Adolf Hitler was dangling from it .This was the scene that greeted my 3 year old eyes as I was carried up the street from Westminster Rd.
    The memory I am about to relate is mine,not a given one.
    I had never seen a bonfire before,nor a Guy Fawkes,there was a makeshift band ,banging bin lids and blowing horns ,all of which was new to me.
    The fire was lit,the crowd was cheering and the band was making a dreadful din.I saw the poor man hanging above the fire,getting lower and lower as the ropes were slackened,the nearer to the fire he got ,the louder the screams became..........The screams were mine,I thought it was real.I was carried home sobbing into Dads shoulder.
    It was shortly after that time that Dad was called up for a soldier.
    I only saw him once in his khakis,he went away to the army and while he was away,the forces of protestants and catholics joined battle and tore our little family apart.
    We left Kirkdale and it seemed like a lifetime before I saw my father again.
    I can remember the night we stole away,crammed in an old wagon,the back of which was full of our belongings.
    Mozart Street in Toxteth was our destination,my days of sunlight were beginning to fade,it was time to grow up!
    Til next time
    BrianD
    Last edited by brian daley; 07-07-2008 at 02:05 PM.

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    Senior Member Ernie's Avatar
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    Well Brian nice to hear you again, good site this you will
    enjoy it, good crowd and great pictures,cheers, Ernie.

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    Senior Member brian daley's Avatar
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    Default A short note to the "milkman"

    Hi Ernie,
    I found this site through one of the postings on The Sailors Home,and I agree with you,its a great site.You could spend a lifetime on it and still not have enough time to see all that is on here.My wife is about to do me for desertion because I spend so much time on the P.C..
    Who would'nt when you meet so many nice people on here.
    Are you going to Sharpness next week? I am ,and if you are I'll keep a look out for you.
    Keep posting,cheers
    BrianD

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    Senior Member lindylou's Avatar
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    glad you are enjoying the forum - it is very addictive

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    Senior Member brian daley's Avatar
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    Default Addicted to life

    Hi Lindy,
    I'm fairly new to the net,I got started by a need to touch base with old shipmates,my daughter said we might shake some out of the ether.
    It has'nt happened yet,but I'm meeting some nice people while I'm trying.
    I realise that my postings so far have seemed like a mini autobiography,if you're happy for me to continue with "lifes journey" I'm happy to plow on.
    You're nice people.
    BrianD

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    Junior Member CHRISMIZ's Avatar
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    Thumbs up

    I realise that my postings so far have seemed like a mini autobiography,if you're happy for me to continue with "lifes journey" I'm happy to plow on.
    You're nice people.

    Keep on plowing Brian, please:

  27. #27
    Senior Member brian daley's Avatar
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    Default Lodge Lane

    We got to our new address late at night,we were tired and could'nt really take in what was happening.
    A plump old lady showed us the way up the gloomy stairs to our rooms.
    There was hardly any furniture,it was gaslit by a tiny mantle in the front corner of the room,the grate was empty and the place was cold and unwelcoming.Our bedroom was up another flight of stairs,which were unlit,there was one big double bed up against the wall.
    Mum lit a candle and made the bed and all the while we could hear a barrel organ cranking some old tunes,my sister and I looked out the window and saw a man outside the pub,on the other side of the road,turning the handle of the music machine.
    That barrel organ was to provide the only music we ever heard inside those rooms,we had no radio or record player,just the sound of our voices as we sang the songs we heard elsewhere.
    I wanted to go home,but this was it for the next 4 years
    Come daylight we had our first look at our new abode,it was on the top corner of Mozart St.,our bedroom was over a secondhand shop, and our "living"room faced into the street.
    Mum had to cook everything on an open fire,no stove or cooker,not even a gas ring.All of our food was either boiled or fried with a bit of soot for flavouring.
    My sister and I were inseparable,she was 2 years older than me and was my guardian angel.Very soon the time came for her to be enrolled at school.
    Tiber Street was just a short walk away and that was where she went.
    I pined so much for her when she was gone that Mum told a "porky" and got me in a year before my time.She coached me into telling everyone I was 5,but when we got on the tram I had to say I was 4.
    I was 4 on the trams for the next 3 years!
    School made life a lot more bearable.The rooms were warm,the lighting was electric and the classrooms were filled with lots of wonderful pictures.
    My first teacher was an angel called Miss Thomas,after my Mum she was the next big person that I loved the most.
    The playground was a revelation, there were games to play and friends to make,thats where I first met the Sproule brothers ,John Gerrard and Ikey Harris.After years of sheltering in Hospitals and isolation I was learning to be a boy.
    That war thing kept on coming up though;there were more than a few children in our class who had lost their Dads in the "War"...........It played on my mind that my Dad might go there and get lost as well.
    Slowly we settled into the life of the street;poor old Lodge Lane had taken a pounding during the blitz ,we kids did'nt know that,the empty spaces were overgrown and weed choked and seemed a natural part of our landscape.
    There was a bomb site right at of the bottom of the lane at the Junction with Princess Park Rd.That was were we kids played at "House" ,the girls in our gang would get the boys to make little houses out of the rubble and we would innocently play at mothers and fathers.
    On Grand National Day, we boys would use that same rubble to build a racecourse;bomb sites held an endless fascination for us kids,you never knew what you would find amongst the rubble.
    Wow, I've just looked at the clock ,I better log off before I cause my better half to have coniptions,
    Bye for now,
    BrianD
    Last edited by brian daley; 07-07-2008 at 02:10 PM.

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    Senior Member shytalk's Avatar
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    Great story Brian, keep it going.
    You can always count on Americans to do the right thing - after they've tried everything else.
    Winston Churchill

  29. #29
    Senior Member brian daley's Avatar
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    Default Lodge Lane

    Lodge Lane was a funny old thoroughfare,the road was made of wooden blocks,not that we thought it was funny then,it was just our road!
    The sound that horses hooves made was lovely,a kind of hollow clip clop.And there were many horses then,the bin wagons were all horse drawn,as were the railway delivery wagons,bread wagons,brewers drays and some haulage companies still had them.There was a tram line down the middle and,I think,it was the 26 and the 27 that used it.When we first moved in, a lot of the shops were empty,bomb and fire damage had seen to that.Gradually,the shops were fitted out,piecemeal,and the new occupants moved in.
    Bessie Holden opened a grocers shop 2 doors down from our street.She seemed a lovely woman and she allowed Mum tick to make things easier.
    We were still in a fatherless state,money was scarce and, to make things easier, my Granddad Hengler insisted we spent every Sunday at their house so that we would have proper meal each week.They lived in Eton street right next door to Goodison;although avowed protestants they were all Evertonians in that house.
    Jess and I loved going there on a Sunday,it was a happy house,my Mum was one of eleven children ,one had been killed in that awful place "the War" and all but 2 of her siblings were married with children.So we had cousins galore.The 2 offspring still at home were still in their teens and used to take us to Stanley Park when the weather was fine,it had a lovely glasshouse and a lido ,as well as the swings and boating lake.When I reflect on those moments of ancient sunlight ,I see the flower beds in full bloom and hear the sound of the cuckoo clock,marking the passing of the hours.When my uncles and aunts were courting they would take us on the walks through the park almost as chaperones,whatever ,they always bought us ice cream and took us on the boats.
    Walton was on a different planet to Toxteth.Mum would stay at home on those Sundays,which meant that my 7 year old sister was responsible for getting us to Walton and back,never gave it a thought then,now the social services would have had us taken into care.
    As '46 iced its way into '47,Mum was always being sick and had grown fat,Christmas came and went and she seemed no better.My dad had now assumed mythical status,my mates did'nt believe I had one,amongst my Mums kin he was always referred to,scathingly,as that Billy Daley.
    Everything seemed to be his fault;I wanted him to take us home but he never ever came.January '47 was bleak,cold and snowy and ,to top it all coal was rationed,I can remember queueing up at the coal /coke yard in Crown Street ,hoping to get some fuel.Things got progressively worse,early in February my Mum went into labour and I had an accident.Because it was snowing and my Mum had had her bed moved into the living room,Jess and I played in the cellar .The landladys' two sons were playing there with some other big boys and they let us join in.They were playing pirates and we were to be their captives.It was a good game,until they decided to put me in "prison".This was an old disused gas stove,it still had its old iron shelves in ,but nobody knew that when they threw me in.I was slung in by the back of my collar and trousers and flew face first on to the sharp edge of a shelf.It opened my cheek to the bone and blood was gushing everywhere.I was frogmarched up the stairs,but Mum was in no fit state to do anything.There was a woman who lived half wadown the street who I was scared of,not because of anything she did ,or said,but because she looked fierce.Mrs King was her name,somehow she got to hear of our predicament and she came and took me to hospital.She was kindness itself,her looks belied her nature and I was too young to know about consumption.
    She waited with me in Myrtle Street while they stitched me up,and when she took me home I was taken into to see my newborn sister Bette.
    So ,I have 2 reminders of that cold,cold night in February, a sister and a scar.
    I'll be back,
    BrianD
    Last edited by brian daley; 07-07-2008 at 02:15 PM.

  30. #30
    Senior Member lindylou's Avatar
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    I enjoyed reading about Stanley park. Those were the days when it was a proper family park.
    Unfortunately it is now a shadow of it's former self.

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