Hullo Old Home

[Jericho]

Great posts. George Melly said that Liverpool marks its children (in a good way), and your posts demonstrate that.

[DaisyChains]

welcome aboard !!

[brian daley]

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

[john]

Welcome

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[CHRISMIZ]

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..

[brian daley]

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

[lindylou]

As Chrismiz says, your memories would make an interesting book.

[brian daley]

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

[Ernie]

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

[brian daley]

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

[lindylou]

glad you are enjoying the forum - it is very addictive

[brian daley]

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

[CHRISMIZ]

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:

[brian daley]

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

[shytalk]

Great story Brian, keep it going.