PEOPLE - STORIES - MEMORIES 2
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| My days in Handsworth I was born 1945 in Dudley Rd Hospital and grew up in Friary Rd Handsworth until we moved away to Tamworth in 1960. I particularly recall playing on 'the Tip' at the top of the road where it met Oxhill rd, in 'the Gully' - the rear access to the houses around us and also to those in Stockwell rd. There was a milkman who had a stable in the gully where he kept his horse and cart overnight. It was quite an adventure to shin over the fence and get into the stable to see the horse. The gradual slope of Friary rd made ideal condition for carts made from old pram wheels to be raced. On a good day you could start from Woolley's shop and get round the corner and a good way into Stockwell rd on a good push. My father had an allotment opposite our house - number 42A and this meant that we could go down to the stream at the bottom which occupied many a summer day with damming it with clods of earth. I started school when Grestone Primary was temporarily located in the Methodist church halls in Somerset rd, and can clearly recall the move into the brand new school buildings but cannot recall the year. I'm sure there will be others who recall the trick of jumping off the outer circle bus coming back from Soho rd as it slowed at the bottom of Rookery rd outside the shop of 'Madame Rae' whose windows seemed to be permanently covered in orange cellophane. Local shops that come to mind are Quances pork butchers where you could get the best black pudding and pork scratchings for miles, "Dicky" Dykes the motor agent who had one of the original upright telephones on his desk at the rear of his dark little shop, and the M&B offlicence at the top of Stockwell rd where the beer engines on the counter impressed me greatly as I fetched beer with my father. My uncle Norman worked for Musson's fruit and poultry merchants on Soho rd and at Christmas, Dad would be called on to assist their staff in dressing the poultry on the Sunday before Christmas - no doubt earning a useful bonus. Further along Soho rd was The Little Red Shop which seemed to stock everything you could need to clean and repair anything. We were regular users of Handsworth library, where from a very young age, I would study the colour photos of the world in the pages of the National geographic magazine, and as I got older borrowed books which opened my eyes to many things. Particular friends were Peter Lloyd, Peter Anderton, James Smith, David Murcott, Pat Edgley, Jean Spencer. In 1957 I went up to King Edward's Aston and in 1960 we moved away to Tamworth, but when I go through Handsworth these days it brings back many happy memories.
Jack Rooke
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'WHOSE TURN TO MEK THE TEA?'
Throughout the war years I worked at George Masons. My elder sister, Winnie, was transferred from 'working on the line' at Joseph Lucas, King St., Hockley, and transferred to the Cadbury's site, Bournville, to work on the Spitfire wings. It was a long walk home, after a hard days work, in the darkness - she and her friends would often do a 'halfway pit stop' at the Kings Head Pub, Hagley Road.
My father would come home to his ready prepared dinner. He would soon be back out on the streets of Handsworth, armed with a bucket of sand and a stirrup pump, to extinguish the fires started by the incendiary bombs. He worked as a warden for the ARP.
I would be walking home from my shift at George Mason's, to the sound of the sirens. I longed to sit infront of a cosy warm fire, and leisurely enjoy my evening meal, strange what we just took for granted before the war.As I walked through the door - blankets, flask, and sandwiches would be thrust in my hand, I would jump into my warmest attire and off we would troop to the shelter.
Evenings were long and cold sitting in the air raid shelters, often eating your dinner, it was communal though, often there were 6/7 of you swapping items of food. If you were lucky...........and there seemed to be an extended silence outside, someone would say 'whose turn to mek the tea?' As the surface shelter was in our garden, one of us would dash across the yard and into the kitchen to make a fresh cuppa and a flask to last till the early hours, when we hoped that we would hear the 'all clear' which would allow us to get a few hours kip in our beds. This 'tea run', was of course dangerous practise, but nevertheless, executed with swiftness by the person most desperate for a cuppa. One night we didn't even have to open the back door to get to the kitchen, the Germans had kindly opened it for us - well blew it off, to be precise. The danger was highlighted to us one day, when, an unexploded land mine in Sandwell Road, was awaiting the arrival of the Army to defuse it. It spontaneously exploded, before the Army could get there. My mom was lifted from her feet and blown from the living room to the kitchen. Bearing in mind, we were three streets away from the offending mine, the force was terrific. My mom got up, dusted herself down, she was physically intact - just a little shaken. I recall her saying 'well at least the house is ok', with that, we looked in the 'front room' to find the door blown off and the curtains flying like flags through all the blown out windows.
I remember the night that Coventry was bombarded - it was a long night. Bill Smith, a neighbour who was in the navy was in the shelter with us that night. He taught us how to recognise the sounds of the engines of the aircraft. he explained that German planes have a throbbing engine - bump bump bump, compared to British planes which sounded smoother, a very non-biased opinion I'm sure! This night the planes flying overhead seemed like in their hundreds, and they were clearly on a mission. At one point we slipped out of the safety of the shelter to have a look - I had never seen so many planes in my life, you could hardly see the sky.The following morning, we were to hear the very sad news of the huge loss of life in Coventry and that the City had been virtually flattened.
I can still remember that one of the most frightening feelings that I have ever experienced in my life was the very first time that I heard the air aid siren. Little did I know, that I would become desensitised to it and it was just going to become part of my everyday life. One night, I was so tired, I said - 'leave me, I'm gonna stop in bed tonight', needless to say, my parents weren't having any of that, and I was marched to the shelter.
Shattered and half asleep one morning, I was walking to work and thought I was dreaming, when I saw an unexploded land mine hanging from its parachute caught on a large tree in Queenshead Road. It was extremely dangerous, but was pulling a fair sized crowd, and true to form, the inevitable jokes were being spouted about. Reflecting back it seems odd laughing about such a thing, but at the time it was quite a funny sight - seeing a land mine 'growing' on a tree. In all that night, four land mines had been dropped around our road and one bomb.Hamilton Road fortunately had escaped a direct hit. Oxhill Road and Sandwell Road also each had an unexploded land mine. As I walked past Albert road, there was a huge crater, where a row of houses had been - a land mine casualty. Douglas Road received severe bomb damage too from a direct hit. Somehow the humour which seemed so acceptable in Queenshead Road, was extinguished by the sight of devastation, and the inevitable overwhelming thoughts of the families who had lost their lives, homes and treasured processions.
Often in Hamilton Road, there would be Italian POW's, repairing the road, under armed guard supervision. The POW camp, was not too far away - Hill Top, West Bromwich. My mom, was often criticised, by friends and neighbours, for making the lads a cup of tea or providing a glass of pop. She always stood firm - her son had been taken POW in Singapore - ' I would like to think that a mother in Singapore would be doing the same for my Arthur' she would say. Of course, she wasn't to know that they weren't.
DOREEN HALL
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I'm a "born & bred" Handsworthien Born in 1957, in 'rooms' in Thornhill Road. I'm told that the midwife was just about to start her dinner, when she received the call to inform her that 'I was on the way'. She tried to delay the visit, but my Dad wasn't having any of it........he told her to get on her bike and HE'D cook her dinner........which he did!
I already had a brother - 5 years my senior - John. It is to him that the blame lies for my name, Susan, he was allowed to choose it! Most people know me know as Sue, my mother and brother still refer to me as 'Susan', as does my husband, when the mood takes him. I forgive him though, he knows no better, he's an Astonite! My arrival meant that rooms, were no longer large enough to accommodate us, and we moved to rented accommodation in Crocketts Road.
This was a large terraced three bedroom house, my brother and I shared a bedroom, as the 'box room' was often occupied by the manager of The West End Cinema. My dad, worked there, and the income from this sub letting, helped with the rent money. Later on in
my childhood, I recall attending the West End. I particularly remember watching South Pacific, and I think I was the only child in our neighbourhood who could sing 'I'm gonna wash that man right outta ya hair' word perfect, even if slightly out of tune. Still can actually!
A person who influenced me greatly during my 15 years in Crocketts Road, was a neighbour - Miss Underhill. She was a spinster, and I cant recall anybody really visiting her. She lived with gas lighting, a big black range, and had an amazing gramophone which was lined with velvet and had a big silver horn.
I remember the 'smells' in this house being very special, particularly from the range, the stews and bread and the irons heating.....I loved to watch her ironing, and spitting on the irons, she was so prim and proper, yet it looked natural to see her spit. She fed me brown bread and honey sandwiches, still a passion of mine, and read to me relentlessly. She taught me all about the bible, bought me my first bible, which I still have, and took me to church, Emmanual Hall on the Holyhead Road.It was leaving church one Sunday, that I head butted a car whilst crossing the road, and suffered severe head injuries, cracked teeth still tell the tale, no 'caps' offered then.When I eventually regained
consciousness, I was more concerned about my 'best hat and coat'. I also wondered why God had let that happen to me while I was coming out of church! Miss Underhill was my spiritual guide throughout my childhood. She certainly taught me right from wrong, indelibly.
Around 5, I knew that I was going to become a nurse. Not only did I care for Miss Underhill if she was unwell, my dog- Sandy - was a very patient 'patient'. There were not many parts of Sandy's anatomy that hadn't brandished a bandage at some point. I must have been reasonably gentle with him, cus he always came to me, tail wagging, if I donned my uniform and bag.
The friends I remain in contact with now, remember me for my birthday parties, they weren't lavish, but great fun. Like my Nan's house, it was an open house and all were welcome.
During school holidays, I went to my Nan's house in Hamilton Road, there I had another group of friends. We played hide and seek, and most of us had home made stilts. Stilt races were popular on the 'duck-egg' islands, that linked Regent Road to Westbourne Road. The lads made go-carts, and occasionally let us have a go, but the 'women driver' phenonomen is inbuilt into men at a very early age, and they were very protective of their wooden boxes on wheels!
Another special treat, was being taken to 'The Uplands' pub for a bottle of vimto and a bag of crisps - the ones with the salt wrapped in blue paper. The grounds of this pub seemed immense. It was bril for playing hide and seek in, lots of nooks and crannies.
Along with all the other kids in the neighbourhood, I attended Cross Street Infants school, before progressing to Wattvillle Road Juniors, where I fell in love for the first time. Mr Brettel was our Class 9 teacher, and myself and Elaine Wheeler fought over him day in day out until deciding we would share him, I cant remember whether I had the left or right side now. Eventually we all split to our chosen secondary schools, mine being Handsworth New Road Girls School.
When we were not at school, we usually went to Black Patch Park, in preference to Handsworth Park, it had a climbing frame and what we called 'a witches hat'. Handsworth Park seemed more geared up for adult activities. If we had a bit of money, we did venture to Handsworth Park - Birmingham Dairies (opposite) had a cracking ice cold milk vending machine.
The Regal Cinema, was the local flicks. Dr Who and the Darleks was very scary on the big screen. I was only comforted by the pickled onion and the bag of batter bits, I collected from Boothe Street fish and chip shop, on the way home.
At 15, we moved to Wellington Road, where Handsworth borders with Perry Barr. I took a part time job at Pendry's greengrocers on the Soho Road. It was here that I first came in contact with ackee, salt fish, yam and green banana, the Caribbean influence had hit 'The Main Road'.
I never really had any romantic liaisons with the local boys, I have subsequently been told that I was thought of as a 'mate'! I'm sure this information was designed to comfort me, unfortunately it did not have the desired effect.
Having finished my exams, I was still on track for nurse training, and was so fortunate to be supported by my parents to attend further education, in a polytechnic - remember them? I took a part time cashiers job in an Aston garage, to try to ease the financial burden on my parents. A year later, I was in a pink striped uniform, a cadet nurse at the then - Dudley Road Hospital.
At 19, I met my husband to be - an Aston lad, and five years later we were wed, at St James Church, Crocketts Road, where I'd been christened 24 years previously. For the first time I moved from Handsworth to Harborne...........and couldn't settle, a year on we moved back to the north side of the city, Great Barr.
Little did I know as a child that I would never really leave Handsworth. During my training, I was meeting people from Handsworth, Aston, Winson Green areas. On completion of my training, I found myself wanting to nurse people in their own environments, and guess what, only Handsworth and the surrounding areas would do for me!
Although I have nursed in a variety of settings since qualifying, I always find myself back in the place that I love. People say that Handsworth has changed, and it has, but look hard enough and you will see that there remains qualities that have always been there. Handsworthiens were special people, in my opinion, they still are.
SUE BONNER
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| Handsworth My Recollections. St Mary's School 1930 watching the airship R101 on its maiden flight. Catching Newts, from out of the Brook that ran behind the houses In Hutton road.
Going down Crompton road hill, on a Sledge, in winter.
Canoeing in Handsworth park pool, skating on the ice on Handsworth Park Pool.
Adcocks Garage in the vale petrol 1 shilling a gallon, small shops in Hutton road Kinmans. Reids fish and chip shop, Clarkes, corner of the avenue, The off licence Deveys fruiterer, The Mission Hall, The Paragon Laundry. Gas lamps along the street,
Pushing a barrow loaded with groceries for 2 shillings and sixpence all day Saturdays.
My first Bicycle, a Hercules from the Beehive in Aston cost 3 pounds 19 shillings and sixpence. We lived at 121 Hutton road close by were the Powell's George who went into the air force during ww11, Dorothy (Dolly ) Powell. Stanley Friend.
John Rice, Austin Winward, Norman Titmouse, the Frogarts Joyce I think has passed away, Putting Incendiary bombs out in 1940, Spending endless nights down Anderson air raid shelters, cold, damp, listening to German Bombers going overhead.
Street Party for Coronation of king George V1 in 1937.
Snow sweeping, walking in front of cars through the fog with a torch.
Playing Marbles down the gutters on the way to school. Collecting cigarette cards, Playing Conkers. (I wonder is that still done).
The Cinemas Birchfields the Odeon Orient, villa cross, the Lozells rd, bombed while showing gone with the wind, the Globe by the Aston Hippodrome.
The years have gone by the memories linger.
Maurice Bassett
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