Page 6 of 31 FirstFirst ... 4567816 ... LastLast
Results 76 to 90 of 459

Thread: Hullo Old Home

  1. #76
    Senior Member shytalk's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2006
    Location
    Pocahontas.Arkansas. U.S.A.
    Posts
    546

    Default

    It means 'Laugh out loud'. I never use it. I think it looks daft.
    You can always count on Americans to do the right thing - after they've tried everything else.
    Winston Churchill

  2. #77
    Creator & Administrator Kev's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2005
    Location
    Under The Stairs >> Under The Mud.
    Posts
    7,488
    Blog Entries
    4

    Default

    Quote Originally Posted by brian daley View Post
    Thanks for the support some of you have shown my postings,but honestly I don,t know what the hell I'm going to post before I sit down at the keyboard.The memories come surging forward and I try to marshall them into some kind of order.........and life doesn't work to order,it just happens and we have to handle it the best way we can.So stick with me if you want to,there is a lot more,but you don't have to read it.
    Cheers,BrianD
    Keep the posts coming Brian and thank you for spending time posting them,
    Become A Supporter 👇


    Donate Via PayPal


    Donate


  3. #78
    Steven
    Guest Steven's Avatar

    Default

    Brill posts Brian I have really enjoyed reading and want to say a big TA for sharing.

  4. #79

    Default

    Quote Originally Posted by shytalk View Post
    You might find this hard to understand, because you haven't lived through the hardship people did years ago. If you go back even further it was even worse than this, look up the history of the workhouses you will see what I mean.
    BTW most of us hope he will write a lot more.
    ok i didnt know im not that old i know someone that was born in 1902 and they are still alive

  5. #80
    Senior Member brian daley's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2007
    Location
    Tamworth,Staffs
    Posts
    1,045
    Blog Entries
    1

    Default Garston,a new beginning

    Opening that door,with "our"key was a very special moment.This was the first unshared abode that our family had.Stepping inside, it seemed so spacious to what we had been used to.The hallway had all the rooms off it and had little red tiles on the floor,the bedrooms were laid with lino and the living room had bare wood floors.Very basic, but this was early days.
    Mum showed me my room,there was a "new" bed in it,I found out later that it was a hospital bed off a ship,solid iron with drop down sides and feet with bolt holes,that bed was going to be indestructible.
    Soon after we'd settled in we went to have a look at our surroundings,we lived in a quadrangle,our block had six homes per floor and there were 5 floors.Opposite stood a similar block with only 4 homes per floor,and that too had 5 storeys,to the left of the square stood a 2 storey block,which was called the White Cottages and this had 3 homes per floor.In the middle of the square stood a large air raid shelter,and to the right of the square was our playground.the play ground was surrounded on 2 sides by an ornamental railing and on the far side,away from our square ,by another 2 blocks of 5 storey flats.
    In later years ,I heard many people say how bleak such places were,nothing could be further from the truth,a child could play in that square and playground and always be looked over by concerned adults.
    The play ground itself had baby swings,junior swings,a witches hat,a jerker,maypole,monkey bars,merry go round and an 8 seater rocking horse,things we had to go to the park for in Lodge Lane.
    As we walked around the playground the local kids looked warily at us,weighing us up.That night passed without incident and bedtime was,for me,exciting.My own room at last.I stood at my window, after we said our goodnights ,and surveyed my little kingdom,not much in the room but the view was great,from 4 floors up I could see over to the Matchworks,the traffic on Speke Road.....................and all the flats opposite.Ideal for a peeping tom!I never took the opportunity.
    It must have been a weekend when we moved for there was no school the next day and I found myself on my own so I went out on a further exploration.I didn't get very far when I was met by a group of boys my own age coming up the stairs to our landing.They were the welcoming committee
    John Tillett,Tony Ross, Norman ?,one of the Quirk boys and Wally Carr.
    They wanted to know who I was,where I was from,and if I would fight John Tillett!!!These boys took no prisoners and pretty soon John and I were kicking and punching like Kilkenny cats.The next thing I knew was that we were pulled apart by our new next door neighbour ,Mrs.Matthews;John had a small cut over his eye and my card was marked as a bad 'un.
    Thankfully,it was a reputation that didn't last long.John and I became friends and I was gradually accepted into the gang.
    There was an hierarchy in the square,at the top you had the older boys and girls,up to about !5 years of age,then came the 12 to 14 year olds and then us,the 10 and upward group.
    The square,s gang was like a family,or even a military grouping,but more of that later.
    Come Monday morning ,Mum took me down to Banks Road school to get enrolled,there were only 2 weeks of the term left,but she had taken time off work for the move and she didn't want us roaming the streets when she wasn't there.
    I was still acting the big lie,i.e.,making out that I was one year older than I really was;after all when I was still at Tiber Street the class I was in was due to go up to the senior school after the holidays.
    So ,when we got to Banks Road Mum told the secretary whatever,and the next thing I knew was that I was taken to a classroom that had the children in who were due to go to the senior school.
    They were a great bunch,Jimmy Lothian in particular,he lived in the next block to ours and he quickly showed me the ropes.
    I was only there 2 weeks but I would go there lots of times on a winters evening for they had a great play centre.
    The summer break came on like an express train and Garston and Speke were wonderful places for young boys to grow up in,we had the Airport,Garston shore,Oglet,Hale,Woolton Woods,and "over the ironbridge".
    Horrocks Avenue estate was not yet built,the were site markers in the ground,but that summer saw fields as big as the prairies,adult free all the way to Allerton and Hunts Cross.
    Some of the most Epic battles of the century took place in those fields,the different squares(there 3 main squares comprising the Tennies)formed separate armies and fought pitched battles against each other,Japs and Commandos,Cavalry and Injuns,Nazis and Brits.We played them all at times.We had dug foxholes all over the place and our wars ranged far and wide over the whole area.I can remember one exciting ,life and death battle,we had the enemy at the point of surrender and had pushed them right back to the foot of their block,they had nowhere to go..............this was it.Where Monty had failed at Arnhem,Ronnie Jones our General was going to show us how it should have been done.Over the sound of battle came the cry"Ralph....yer teas on the table!!!!!"And Ralph Gherkin,our mortal foe, stepped out of his foxhole and went home to tea.
    Our battles were all pretend and we were all the best of mates at school,but rivals in the squares.
    Excepting for the "battles" we mainly kept to our to our own groups and summer passed by in such a series of adventure.
    Our block of flats had been built in 1929 and a lot of the tenants had moved in at that time,they had brought up families and had a fierce pride in their square.They had painted the landings themselves for the Festival of Britain and each family was responsible for scrubbing the flight of stairs adjacent their flat on a rotational basis,in our case we were responsible for scrubbing 2 flights of stairs once every three weeks.Mum and Jess did that job,and it was woe betide any kid who dared make them dirty,you could chalk on the play ground but never on the walls or the stairs.It was an orderly little world,and one that was giving us the real feeling of being at home.
    Last edited by brian daley; 09-30-2007 at 10:46 AM.

  6. #81
    Senior Member lindylou's Avatar
    Join Date
    Sep 2005
    Posts
    3,677

    Default

    brilliant posts Brian. You are a gifted writer

  7. #82

  8. #83
    Senior Member brian daley's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2007
    Location
    Tamworth,Staffs
    Posts
    1,045
    Blog Entries
    1

    Default Garston

    Although we had left Lodge Lane,we hadn't severed all our ties with it,Mum still had her"slate" at Bessie Holdens and Dad still had his collars starched at the chinese laundry.When we first moved,it was Jessies' job to go and get the groceries and laundry,as time passed the journey to Bessie Holdens stopped ,but Dad still had his collars done at the chinamans.
    Let me tell you about dad and his clothes,he was a snappy dresser,never wore ready made suits,always had them made by a tailor called Mr Duggan.He would come to our flat and measure him up and then come back for the fittings.He had a fine collection of suits and cut a handsome figure when dressed up.He always reminded me of the actor Fred Mcmurray,in his lounge suits he had real class.My mates used to ask if he was a detective or special agent and I used to feel so proud if the way he looked,I promised myself,even at that young age,that I would be as smart as him some day.
    He worked hard at staying smart,Saturday afternoon would find him polishing his shoes to a military gloss,checking out his apparel for that night out and making sure that his Sunday outfit was o.k. too.
    His trouser press was under the mattress of their double bed,he would leave his trousers there all week,ensuring a razor sharp crease for the weekend.his shirts were boiled and starched by the Pioneer Laundry and our oriental friend in Toxteth took care of his collars......................................until a very unfortunate incident occurred.
    Our Jess passed on to me the task of fetching Dads' collars now that there was no grocery to collect,I didn't mind this because it gave me the chance to keep in touch with Ikey Harris and I used to walk from Garston and thus pocket the busfare which gave me enough for an extra night at the pictures.
    I would walk through Grassendale to Sefton Park and then on up the lane;being a Saturday there was no pressure on me for time and I would stroll leisurely around the park lake on the way back,loking at the model yachts and generally enjoying the sights.
    Dads collars were always wrapped up in a brown paper parcel,tied with string and had a label attached which had chinese letters on it.I used to shove this inside my lumberjacket,thus leaving my hands free to pick up sticks .pick my nose, scratch my ears,or any of those things that you need a free hand for.
    One particular Saturday I was making my way around the lake when I heard a voice calling from the opposite shore"Hullo ,You there" I looked across and saw a man calling to me,he was pointing to a beautifully rigged model yacht that was heading towards me,"Turn her round please" he called.Without thinking ,I leaned forward and turned her about and ,as I did so, the parcel of collars slipped from my jacket and splashed into the water.I was horrified,Dad was still a martinet and I was a dead boy."What the hell was I doing in the park?"he was sure to ask that question ,"Where was the bus fare?"Oh, was I was a goner!!.But the parcel didn't sink,it dipped under and then floated.I was old enough to know that you shouldn't hold wet paper too firmly and so lifted it gingerly from the water and laid it on the grass to dry.The day was warm and sunny and old Sol did a brilliant job of drying that parcel,so good in fact that you would never have guessed that there had been a mishap at all.The label was still intact and the unsuspecting eye wouldn't know a thing.
    When I got home I put them on the kitchen shelf as usual and made myself scarce.That night ,as Dad was getting ready,I heard him explode with anger at the state of his collars"That little *******,look at them,they're like prawn crackers!! I,m not sending any more collars to him again" Phew!!That poor old laundryman carried the can for my misdeeds.
    Now that we had a place of our own we began to see a lot more of our relatives,on a Saturday night Mum and Dad would go up to the Coffee House in Woolton where they often met up with Dads relatives.Come closing time they would nearly always come back to our place with a crate of ale,Mum would have had a pan of pea soup and spare ribs simmering on the stove,which our Jess took care of ,so that when they arrived it was ready for consumption.You know ,those ribs were so well done that you could eat the bones , no trouble.You could stand your spoon up in the soup.
    The Daleys' were a musical crowd,Dad was a great singer,like a cross between Bing Crosby and Al Bowley,his brother George,a big powerful man, with a voice to match,sang like Eddy Fisher;indeed he sang professionally in the pubs in Liverpool until quite recently.And then there was Great Granddad Maher,a bull of a man,he'd been a donkey greaser on the White Star and Cunarders,and had lost a lot of his fingers so that he just had stumps,but he could play a concertina with the best of them.
    So ,Saturday nights at 17c were a lot livelier than we had ever experienced anywhere else.Jess and I were often called from our beds to perform our party pieces,she with Me And My Shadow and one or two other songs,and me with my bits and pieces from that long ago minstrel show.
    Our uncle Harold had a second hand car business and he would ferry everyone home,blind drunk the lot of them,already for mass in the morning.
    No matter how much Dad put away on a Saturday,he was still up with the lark on Sunday,getting the saltfish on the go to the sound of Alastair Cookes letter from America on the radio.YES,we now had a radio!!!Oh ,the magic that little brown and cream box now brought into pour lives.Dad put it on the highest shelf in the wall cupboard to ensure that we never fiddled with the dial,in fact he used to feel the case when he got in to make sure we hadn't been using it.It was a valve radio and got hot when it had been on for awhile.
    Of course we "fiddled" with it,thats how we discovered Radio Luxemburg,AFN and Radio Athlone,great stations for the Yankee records,we always made sure it was put back on the Light Programme before Dad got home.
    The school holidays were fast drawing to a close and it was soon time to go to my next school,Gilmour Heath Road Secondary Modern.It was a boys school and had been built in the 30's and was much newer than Tiber Street or Banks Road.It was in Allerton,a much posher area than Garston and it had huge playing fields.The classrooms were bright and airy and the whole place had a drive and impetus about it that I had never felt in the other schools.The head master,MrSimpson,was a very grand personage,he had a wooden leg,it was believed he lost his leg in the trenches,and came to school each moring in a chauffeur driven Daimler.The head boy would meet him at the pavement edge and take his briefcase in one hand and his arm in the other.Any boys who were in the vicinity of the gate had to form a line and greet him with a "Good Morning Sir" as he made his stately progress into to school.
    All of our teachers were ex servicemen,some from the Great War and the younger ones,from the Second War.My first teacher,Mr.Parry was one of the younger generation,he was kind and helpful and we boys really liked him,a kind of hero worship developed.
    Most of the boys who were at Banks Road were here as well as boys from the CofE school and the local junior school in Allerton,we would be together for the next four years.
    I'll never forget that first day,we were all lined up in the yard ,and Mr Haigh ,the Deputy head and Miss Pugh the school secretary,were checking us off and detailing us to our new classes.When she came to me,she drew a blank."Who are you boy?"she sked,"Daley,Miss,Brian Daley"."Well you're not on my list young man" she replied."We've only just moved here from Toxteth Miss"I told her.She Took details of my old school,Tiber Street ,and I left it at that.2 weeks later I was called to her office and was told that my records had been lost in the post and that they would sort everything out.So I was still a year ahead of myself.
    I was going to like this school,not only did it look good ,but it felt good too.


  9. #84
    John(Zappa)
    Guest John(Zappa)'s Avatar

    Default

    Bloody good read that.Enjoyed it.

  10. #85
    Senior Member lindylou's Avatar
    Join Date
    Sep 2005
    Posts
    3,677

    Default

    smashing stuff Brian you should definately get this published - I'm sure a book like this would sell loads.

  11. #86
    Senior Member brian daley's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2007
    Location
    Tamworth,Staffs
    Posts
    1,045
    Blog Entries
    1

    Default Life in Garston

    It still rankled with me that I had missed the Festival of Britain,the square we lived in had remnants of the decorations here and there, my new school had illustrations of the Festival site in London and the motif,that three pointed star topped by the head of Britannia,was everywhere.In our art classroom,there were paintings by the pupils showing all manner of images of the wonder of the modern age..................and I had missed it all.Well there was now talk of something even greater than that old Festival,and I was going to make sure that I wouldn't miss out on that;we were going to have a coronation!!
    You couldn't miss the news about it,in every paper ,magazine,childrens comics and on the newsreels,there were nonstop items of what 1953 would bring.Now I don't know how the Earl Marshall of England,the Duke Of Norfolk,was planning for the day itself,but the women in our square were very well organised.I don't know who was in charge,I was too young for that,what I do know was that plans were afoot for our square to have a celebration to beat them all.Almost a year in advance dicussions were taking place as to who should do what and how they should do it.These people had celebrated V.E. day and the Festival of Britain but this was going to top them all.Collections were held for the decorations,all the men got together ,landing by landing,to set about painting the walls come springtime.After years of drab greyness, colour started to come into our world.And I'd like to dilate on that world if I may.
    Speke Road Gardens sat majestically between the matchworks,Bryant and Mays,the railway sidings,Speke airport and the docks.
    Blackwells foundry lay just over the bridge and behind that lay Garston gasworks.When you walked into Garston ,you walked through clouds of thick black smoke that issued from Blackwells chimneys,you breathed in the sulphurous fumes from the gasworks and your ears were filled with the sounds of steam trains chugging as they heaved their loads from Garston docks whilst overhead was the drone of the Dakotas taking off and landing at the airport.The docks were but a stones throw away and you could hear deep throated sounds of the ships whistles,mixed with with toot toot of the tugboats as they travelled up river.Garston thrived with industry,you knew that when you left school you were going to have a job.Thus was the world I now lived in;as I lay abed in my room at night,I knew that one day I would be sailing down that river to places unknown.
    But,I had to grow up yet ,there was school tomorrow.
    Our school had a very strict code of discipline,corporal punishment was meted out for any misdemeanours,the Headmaster would administer the punishing of any thing that was deemed serious,teachers could cane you at any time in class.Our form master,Mr Parry never dished out any rough stuff,we thought he was O.K.
    I was still in the first year and heard that there was a form of punishment that was talked about in whispers,The Mystery Tour!!This was a system whereby a boyhad to go to every classroom in the school and get beaten by the different teachers, right there in front of the class.
    I had been there six months by now and had ever seen that punishment take place;I had seen many canings though.
    We were always having fund raising drives at Heath Road,we had football teams,rugby teams,swimming teams,cricket teams and athletic teams and they all needed money,and we got it by fund raising.
    One of the most lucrative ways of raising money was by collecting jam jars,we used to get thousands of them,and the school used to give prizes at the end of term to the boys who collected the most jars.
    The Avenues to the north of our school were very affluent,a lot of the houses had cooks and maids,dinnertime would find me and my trolley going door to door collecting the empty jars.This one day I had a load so great that it was taking me forever to pull it back to school,but I knew that it was a prize winning load that I had aboard,I checked it in with the caretaker and went off to my class feeling like a hero.............I was late ,everyone was at their desks and Mr Parry stood at the front.He seemed cross and I heard him say "Daley,go on a mystery tour!" I couldn't believe it ,but he stood there pointing at the door.Speechless with shock ,I set off on my journey around the school,12 classrooms,12 teachers,I was beaten on the hands,legs and buttocks,standing in front of class after class,barely able to speak the words "Mystery Tour" as I approached each master.When I got back to the door of my class,I couldn't go in for I was crying with pain and was sore all over.The door opened and Mr Parry stood there looking at me ,"Where the heck have you been Daley?"he asked.I couldn't speak but showed him my hands,full of red welts.He looked horrified "What have you done" ,I managed to sob "I went on the Mystery Tour sir". He laid his hand tenderly on my shoulder and said "You silly,silly boy,I told you to go and stand outside the door"
    He put his hand in his pocket and gave me a shilling,"Go the pictures tonight boy....and listen carefully in the future"After that ,you bet your sweet life I did.I don't recall ever seeing another boy go on a Mystery tour...........Those jam jars?I got a swimming costume next prize giving day,treasured it for years.

  12. #87
    Re-member Ged's Avatar
    Join Date
    Dec 2006
    Location
    Here, there & everywhere.
    Posts
    7,197

    Default

    Fantastical writings Brian, briliant recollections and you paint a picture which has us living it with you as though it were yesterday.

    You can find some Speke Road Gardens pictures here and many more

    http://pic7.piczo.com/inacityliving/?g=30679502


    Keep the memories coming.
    www.inacityliving.piczo.com/

    Updated weekly with old and new pics.

  13. #88
    Steven
    Guest Steven's Avatar

    Default

    Absolutely superb Brian. You brought back so many memories with your vivid and inspired words.

  14. #89
    Senior Member ChrisGeorge's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2006
    Location
    Baltimore, Maryland, USA
    Posts
    3,590

    Default

    Hi Brian

    Great reminiscences, Brian. I am handing them on to my 87-year-old Mum who used to live in Garston on Inwood Road. They should bring back memories for her as well. Bravo.

    Chris
    Christopher T. George
    Editor, Ripperologist
    Editor, Loch Raven Review
    http://christophertgeorge.blogspot.com/
    Chris on Flickr and on MySpace

  15. #90
    Senior Member lindylou's Avatar
    Join Date
    Sep 2005
    Posts
    3,677

    Default

    I've been showing Brian's posts to my dad.

Page 6 of 31 FirstFirst ... 4567816 ... LastLast

Tags for this Thread

Bookmarks

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts
  •