1976 and before – early years
People always ask what was your earliest memory, I’m not sure I can fully recollect what mine actually was, however I did have parents, who if living in the digital age would have probably filled servers full of jpeg files.
I seem to remember the painful times. We had an old shed at the bottom of the garden. At some point after 1975 this was taken down and replaced with a greenhouse, one of a few that would arrive in our garden! My dad wasn’t one for buying pre-made rubbish as he would call it, why would you when you could build your own! That wooden greenhouse was still standing strong 50 years later when he passed away. That was my favourite of all his greenhouses as it contained all his cactus that had spikes I’d prod and get stuck under my skin ready for mum to get out with the tweezers. Dad breed cactus, entered competitions and all were unique and beautiful in some way especially when flowering.
Apart from spikes that shed caused at least 2 other painful moments. The first wasn’t a huge deal, and I can’t even remember who it happened to but someone stood on a tack, probably only 1cm high, that pierced the sole of their foot. The big accident I recall was right outside the shed, or greenhouse as I think it had become. There were sacks of sand stacked up, and being a young boy I was standing on the highest point when I fell. My head made contact with the right angle of a concrete wall and split open a big hole. My dad and our neighbour Derek took us to the local hospital ER at the Leeds General Infirmary and beside the pain of the fall I just remember screaming as they stitched up my forehead! Back then anaesthetics were not something you were given unless it was a major procedure! The scar is still on my forehead today.
We had such a cool garden for a young boy. My dad had lots of tools and woodworking machinery and as young boys do I’d try to be his helper. I remember sitting on the garage floor with an old piece of wood, nail banging them in with a hammer as he was making something on his work bench. Many occasions I’d be holding the nail to get it started and miss whacking my thumb or index finger.
We had 3 big oak trees at the very bottom of the garden and a big grassy field over the back stone wall, Pounds Farm, where we’d see cows every now and then but mostly horses. I’d help in the garden, half our garden was devoted to fruit and veggies. We had gooseberries, red and black currants, rhubarb, raspberries and all the usual English vegetables.
There was a massive hole for compost and once a year dad would dig big trenches in our garden and fill them in and mix the soil with all the compost. I’d be out there with my little spade trying to help him, but the fun part was down around the compost and oak trees where I’d find woodlice, worms, centipedes, earwigs and all sorts of other cool creepy crawlies.
We had a big climbing frame in the garden with a slide. No plastic back then, it was all wooden with a wooden slide attached. That and the tiny paddling pool were 2 early memories from my first few years.
Looking at photos of the garden a lot of work got done in it in later years. There were 2 more greenhouses put in. One built and one bought. In one I remember dad grew grapes and started getting good crops out of the vines! The house had an extension put onto the living room and kitchen when we were very young. With it came a bigger patio and a big rock garden dropping down from the patio that my mum got stuck into. Dad got scaffolding from somewhere and used it for a frame for his runner beans and raspberry bushes. We had a carport erected and a big porch built on the front of the house where we had a chest freezer, tumble dryer and all our bikes were stored.
We had trips to the east coast in the Triumph Herald. The west coast, Lancashire and Blackpool Illuminations, the rollercoasters and tack shops and greasy food are what we wanted as kids. On the east coast there was Scarborough, although a little tacky we did go here once. Grandma Davies always paid as dad claimed we were too poor. One year in Scarborough was enough though, Whitby was the more refined town, with an old abbey on the hill, the location count dracula arrived in England and where Captain Cook had started his naval career.
One of the fun things about climbing the 199 steps to Whitby Abbey was we had to go past all the shops that sold the souvenirs we liked, rock the sweet, rocks the stone and seashells. There was Whitby Jet, we never got any as it was too expensive but Whitby was famous for it. A semi precious ‘jet’ black stone that back in the day you would find on Whitby Beach.
There was one amazing little smuggling fishing port close by that we would go to for day trips. That was Robin Hoods Bay. The streets are so narrow most people park at the top of the hill and walk cobblestone streets past all the gift shops, ice cream parlours and pubs. We would usually go down to the rock pools and look for shells and sea animals, as an under ten year old this would have been a huge highlight. Whitby and Robin Hood Bay are places we returned to as a family and I’ve returned with friends and family many times.
Back in the day the 60 mile trip to Whitby was a big event, cars didn’t go as fast due to the roads, we’d usually stop somewhere, Pickering was a little market town, there were the early warning system giant ‘golf balls’ at Fylingdales you always be on the lookout for once you got up on the bleak North Yorkshire Moors. The part of the journey that always stuck out in my mind though was Sutton Bank, it was a very steep 1:4 hill that in an old car you drove down very slowly and going up you were never too sure if the car would make it or not!
The final place I remember on the way to the east coast was the North Yorkshire Moors Railway in Grosmont. As you will discover if you keep reading, my dad loved old steam locomotives. He was interested in how they worked and their history and any opportunity we had we would visit a place where you could view or ride, his grandad would have been one of the first steam train drivers back in the early 1900s. We did stop at Grosmont, although I don’t think we ever rode on a train. It was probably too pricey! Some of this steam passion did pass on to me but my boys, Rafa in particular, were never that impressed when we visited the national railways museum or took a ride on a steam train!
Grandma bought the triumph Herald for mum and dad, but as mum once told me dad never let her drive it. It was a fantastic car. Pointy edges and a square shape with no thought on aerodynamics, designed by an Italian and stylish for the time. It was a sad day when the chassis rusted through and we got a rubbish beige Ford Escort – it’s a bit like going from a Mercedes to a Toyota nowadays!
The younger day trips and holidays were a taster for the rest of our lives when our parents were married that I will go into later but some unique highlights that I cannot personally remember were a 1974 day trip to London Zoo with Aunt Lilley from Kent. My dad’s parents moved there early in our lives. Mum remembers 2 ostriches copulating and as she put it so much semen it nearly flooded the pen.
The Clark family was very correct and apparently nothing was mentioned of the whole incident at the time! A 1975 trip to the southern Lake Districts, there were all free accommodation trips of course and as the secretary of South Parade Baptist Church my Grandma had got a place off George Hobbs who was also high up in the church there and who she worked with. There are great scenic places of mountains, dry stone walls, Haverigg , Duddon Valley and of course steam trains at the Ravenglass and Eskdale steam railway – these are all places I don’t remember and have never been to since!
We had foster kids in the early days, there was a black girl I remember and Bertram who was a bit of a handful, I think he nearly managed to pull the TV over!
And one final memory, some of which I remember was my Aunt Dorothy marrying, she was my dads sister at my grandparent place in Ancaster road and me being page boy and my sister being a bridesmaid.
