THE GOOD OLD DAYS

I lived in Delius Avenue, Ravenscliife from 1942 until 1953. I went to Hutton school, first to the nursery and then to the infants. I can remember a building called the Annexe oposite the school - might have been an old Chapel. We used to go over there for some lessons. I recall that there was a toymakers shop at the end of a path running along the side of the building. We were given orange juice and codliver oil every day and a quart of milk. Every May Day we would take our decorated prams, bicycles etc to school. There would be a May Day procession around the school yard and dancing round the Maypole. The Winter of 1947 was very very cold and it seemed to snow for days. I remember walking up Harrogate Road on the way to school and not being able to see the road. We had no coal delivery when the weather was at it's worst and we had to sit round the gas oven in the kitchen to keep warm. It seemed a long haul up Station Road to school. After school the ones to put their chair up on the desk first and who stood quietly by their desks with their arms by their sides were allowed to leave first. Then we used to race home, the ones who were let out later trying to overtake the ones who had a head start.

My mother worked at a 'Burler's and Mender's' at the bottom of Station Road near the cricket field. (Burling and Mending was a trade where a 'piece' (a roll of worsted suiting material, straight from the loom) was checked for faults and repaired before going on to being finished cloth. The knots, (caused by the yarn having to be changed during the weaving) were pulled through with tweezers (called burlers) until there were two ends showing (these were later cut off in the finishing department). All faults were repaired by hand with a needle which had a blunt end following the exact pattern of the weave. Thread for mending was attached to every piece. My mother also used to mend a piece or two a week in the spare bedroom. She was working at a piece when we heard on the radio that King George had died. I was sat in the folds of the piece reading ( the cloth was made of wool and it was a warm place to sit when the rooms were cold). My fondest memories of those days was attending the Methodist Sunday School on Ravenscliffe Avenue. Buying sweets and gripping a coupon from the ration book between finger and thumb so it wouldn't blow away. No sweets could be bought without a coupon. Going to the Saturday matinee at the cinema down in Greengates. Afterwards we would gallop up Harrogate Road, pretending to be Roy Rogers, Gene Autry or Indians. We would play in the little Park at the Harrogate Road end of Ravenscliife Avenue and play on Lambourne and Benbow avenues at skipping and ball games.

There was only the odd car and life was very carefree. One Christmas my parents bought me a walking doll who's head fell off on Boxing Day and we took it to the Dolls Hospital in the old Kirkgate Market to be mended. Every Whitsuntide we would get new clothes - go to church and then in the afternoon or early evening go for a walk. There was always a Whit Monday walk and we would cheer the walkers on as they came up Harrogate Road - Where they started or where they ended I am not sure. My parents took me out walking a lot often along Ravenscliffe Avenue, round by Ravenscliffe Woods and the reservoir and back home in a circular walk. We also used to walk along Moorside Road - which was rural in those days as was Greengates and Apperley Bridge. My parents used to take me to the beer garden of the George and Dragon and we would walk along the canal tow path. The most exciting programme on the radio was Dick Barton Special Agent. We used to sit around the radio to listen to it. We had a lamplighter who used switch the gas lamps on every evening and I suppose switch them off next morning.

We didn't have TV until I was about ten years old. All the kids in the road used come in our house and sit on the floor to watch Children's TV. When the programmes had finished there would be a break in transmission until the evening programmes began. We had plenty of trips to the dales and to Morecambe and Heysham - to Shipley Glen and the Glen Tramway, Baildon Moor, Ilkley Moor, Harry Ramsden's etc., but I was never more happy than when I was around home - Playing hopscotch, skipping and ballgames in the avenues near my home, I had a swing in the garden and had plenty of friends. Things were coming off ration and everything was becoming plentiful. New things were being invented - new foods coming on to the market. A new age was beginning and as in every era the past would only be remembered as long there was someone there to remember it, record it, or simply pass it on by word of mouth, and of course nowadays we have the wonderful world of photography. May our past never be forgotton. Val Smith (nee Clayton)

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Eccleshill 1940-1951

I remember it just like yesterday, the great times I had as a young lad
being brought up in Bradford (Yorkshire) England. I lived in Eccleshill
which was a suburb of Bradford. First in Norbury Road, later we moved to
Ravenscliffe Avenue until 1951. I attended the Greengates School and later
attended the Hutton School until leaving for Australia in 1951. School
recollections are, as an infant having to sleep in the afternoon at school.
Borrowing books to read from the teacher at night, (no TV in those days)
Orange juice, cod-liver oil & milk provided free every day, a hot meal
available for a small cost I think it was three pence in the winter months

Growing up was carefree we played all the usual games in the street
Cricket we all wanted to be Len Hutton, Yorkshire and later England's
captain.
Hide & Seek, Cowboys and Indians. Nearest picture theater was at
Greengates, matinees were held every Saturday afternoon. Forget about having
sweets at the pictures they were rationed till about 1950 The first picture
I saw at night time was Superman, I did not tell my dad I had seen it
before at a Saturday matinee (as a treat like attending the pictures at
night was not to be missed)

Great memories are snow lots of it and sledging down Norbury Road, most of
us had our own sledge (none of this plastic stuff) as the air-raid shelters
were being dug out of the backyards we improvised and made sledges out of
them. Going to the rugby matches to see Bradford Northern win and having a
pie and mushy peas before the match. Ploging for bonfire night (collecting
wood from the Fagley woods and the Greengates forest) just down the road
and over the stream. Attending the local cricket matches, Seeing cricketers
that played for their local team and Yorkshire cricket club, and watching
any steam train that past by on the branch line at the back of the cricket
ground. Other highlights are the local church & attending Sunday school.
Evening time was radio time (remember Dick Barton special agent?) During
summer we used to dam the local stream and make our own swimming pool
before it reached the reservoir. Bird hunting nest raiding for
eggs. Comics available at that time were Beano. Eagle & Dandy. Many other
activities were available for families to attend. Just a few I remember,
Walker's that used to go down Harrogate Road. Saint Patrick's Day
procession, Saint Georges Day Held in Bradfords Cathedral & visits to
Manningham Park, Shipley Glen and other local places of interest. Do you
remember the allotments that most families used to provide that extra food
for the table? Remember Littlewoods used to visit house to house selling
clothing through a catalogue? What about the P.O.W’s used for some construction
work going on around 1948-1950 in our area. Remember the various means of
transport, trams to the Undercliffe corporation shops, Red Yorkshire buses,
using Harrogate Road, council buses going down Ravenscliffe Avenue to the
local shopping area. Yes we even had two football teams, Bradford Park
Avenue & Bradford City. One of my only disappointments is not seeing
Bradford City play (Premier League) all the time I have been following them
1939----,(yes I did see them on T.V but its not the same as being there)
it's a long way to go from Australia to see a game of football. In
Australia its called soccer..

Hope this small item is of interest.
Alan Foulstone now living in Melbourne Australia
tfolstne@melbpc.org.au

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1947 From Soot to Daisies

My first impression of Ravenscliffe was the greenest grass, the very first daisies I'd seen in ages and a mysterious Wood right at the end of our garden in Langdale Road. I was seven, it was Summer 1947 and we'd just moved out of grimy Manchester Road into this wonderful countryside estate. Even though I'd left all my friends behind I soon made new ones when I was "enrolled" in the Lester "gang", who got its name from John, Jim and Jeff Lester, a Geordie family, who'd moved in before us. We used to lark around a lot, but the worst we did was pinch rhubarb from Mr. Mole's garden or the odd turnip up near the "Big Tree". This was a magnificent oak that overlooked the Pudsey turnip field and the future Calverley golf links. One of us would climb right to the top to watch out for the farmer whilst the others picked up the biggest "neddys". Like Alan Foulstone we built a dam on the stream, just under the "Giraffe Tree" and we dared each other to swing over the dam and back without getting our feet wet. Brian Walsh slipped once and fell right into the middle; problem was he hadn't taken his clothes off yet.

Rationing was in full swing at the time so my Mam sold a family ring she'd inherited from her mother to buy an incubator and a dozen Rhode Island Red eggs. They all hatched and we soon bought more and more eggs. In the end Mam got a lease from the local council to fence in a plot at the back of our garden and produced eggs for all the neighbourhood. This helped the household kitty no end, but we were always skinned. Like Val Clayton's mother, my Mam was also a Burler and Mender, she'd get the pieces delivered from Station Road by a truck once a week and used to work away half the night on our upright Piano; she also took in stitching work from Camelas.

One day I found a purse with a pound note on Ravenscliffe Avenue and, without thinking it over, I brought it to the grocers, which we called the "Bread Shop". The grown ups thought I was a hero and the lady who'd lost it gave me a shilling as a reward. Our gang thought I was just plain daft, but from that day on I always seemed to be the one to get an under the counter piece of chocolate, instead of the usual spanish or liquorish sticks and sherbet. The biggest treat, however, was the fish cake and chips I bought for the rest of the gang ( for having been daft enough to show them my bob) while they pooled together for the bottle of Tizer. There was even enough left for the "Tuppeny Rush" at the Greengates Cinema, where the first two rows cost tuppence a ticket.

Like Val most of the time we played street games like rounders, hide and seek, tig, hopscotch and when Keith Hall's little brother felt like bringing his bat, cricket. Trouble began when he was bowled out. He'd just say "I'm taking me bat and ball and I'm going home". That meant we'd have to give him a second chance, that was until Eddy Hindmarch got his dad to lend us his bat for a change.

The great event which linked the entire street was Guy Fawkes night, when we all went plogging in Ravenscliffe Woods. We took turns in guarding our pile of logs right into the night, because the other gangs tried to pinch it. Everybody chipped in for the hot tea, cocoa and biscuits. Mrs. Massey contributed with a Raspberry pie even though her daughter was out of the child stage. When the bangers started going off Mam nearly went bonkers because she thought the Blitz had started all over again. I nearly got my hand blown off trying to get a banger (firework cracker) from under a tin can, but I just ended up getting blisters and a day off school.
I went to St. Clares School in Fagley and I'd get up before dawn to make the seven o'clock Mass. Walking up to Fagley we either climbed up onto the Railway track or cut across the woods and turned right at the Pub, before racing up the hill. We'd put stones on the track to see how far the train would shoot them and most days we got to school on time, but if we'd lake around too long and we were late, we got ticked off by Father Kelly or even worse got to feel the wooden thermometer of Miss Schmidt. One of my token penances would then be to go from house to house selling "bricks". These were little red coupons in aid of the new church. I felt like a right Charlie knocking on people's doors and asking if they wanted to buy a brick for a penny, but most times it worked. There was more solidarity those days, perhaps because of the War.

The year ended with Christmas when we went around carolling; there wasn't much money in it, but sweets and scones; one lady called us in for peas and pies and another for a glass of elderberry juice, which was nearly as good as the sarsaparilla we got from a stand near Cook's Sweet Shop and the Methodist Church. Val remembers rightly about that Winter. It came early and was very cold. We went to the Reservoir to watch people skating; we were too yitten to go on the ice and were constantly reminded of the lad who'd drowned under it. Sledging was great though, from up near Humperdicky Nook all the way down to the stream and we raced each other right back.

It was a great year for me and I remember it vividly. We lived in Ravenscliffe until Summer 1958, when we, Mam, my brother Jimmy, my sisters Helen and Diana and I, went to Italy on a holiday. Mam ended up in a hospital after a car crash, I got a job at the Airport on the strength of my RAF-ATC experience ( 4 years 2168 Yeadon Squadron) and we never came back. But I'll never forget my childhood in Ravenscliffe, it was the best a lad could hope for. I recently looked at the Google SAT Map and was shocked at all the empty spaces where houses used to be. Even Ravenscliffe Primary seems to have vanished. I hope the estate gets back to it's old self, it deserves it, daisies and all.

Dr. Albert A. Denzler
Via Faenza 22, Pomezia (Rome), Italy
a-denzler@usa.net
www.cockpit-airnet.com/nussy and www.nussyarte.com (wife's Art Sites I designed)

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I lived at the other end of Eccleshill, in Westwood Grove, just off Idle Road and 2 bus stops from Five Lane Ends (which had 6 roads meeting there!) I was born in the little Nursing home at Bolton Junction, 3 days after David Hockney. My father was a teacher; in fact he became the first head of Eccleshill North Junior School which was built in the early 1950's. My mother had been a secretary before she married and returned to work in the YWCA offices in 1953.

My brother and I went to Swain House School, being allowed to walk there in the care of older children, even though it meant crossing Idle Road which became ever busier as car transporters ferried Javelin car bodies from Briggs at Dagenham to the Jowett factory at Five Lane Ends. I wouldn't eat school dinners so made the journey back home at 12noon for my dinner. I didn't like milk either(the little bottles at shool were either warm in summer or frozen in winter and thawed out on the classroom radiators). I 'm amazed that my mother let me be so fussy, but she always provided a proper dinner and a high tea in the evening. We were registered for our rations at shops at Five Lane Ends. The butcher was Mr Hudson and there were 2 bakers, a chemist, post office and Mrs Hurlestone who sold haberdashery and clothes. There was also a barbers, a greengrocers and a newsagent. Across the road was a large co-op, separated into different departments. My grandparents did most of their shopping there and I knew their "number" so I could add to their "divi" if I had to buy anything there. Our milk was delivered by horse and cart from Greenwoods farm down Kings Road.

Round the corner from the co-op on Norman Lane was the Regal Cinema, with a little sweet shop next door. The programme changed twice a week and the films were always rather old. If you wanted the latest films you had to go into town, to the Odeon, the Theatre Royal or the Ritz. The regal cost 6d, 9d or 1s (roughly 2p, 4p or 5p) and you got 2 films and a newsreel. I remember seeing the assassination of Ghandi. Earlier I was hustled out when the horrors of Belsen were shown. I was never allowed to go to the Saturday morning club because I had piano lessons in Manningham.

The head of Swain House was Mr Sykes who I remember as being very tall. I had Miss Rowley in Standards 1 and 2; she was very fierce and prone to hitting us with a ruler. For the last 2 years Mr Dewhirst was our class teacher; he had just returned from being a POW in Japan. It was many years before we found out what he had suffered; to us he was just a lovely, gentle man that you worked hard to please. He was a great sportsman too and Swain House did well at cricket and football. From there I won a City scholarship to Bradford Girls' Grammar School. To get there I went on 2 trolley buses, each costing 1d.

All the houses in my road and many surrounding us had children and we played out as long as it was light. Cricket, football, tennis as well as ball games such as Up for Monday. One summer we played Swallows and Amazons for several days, using an anderson shelter as our camp. (it was both smelly and dark!). On Plot Night we had a big bonfire on the island in Norman Drive and took our boxes of Standard fireworks. We ate potatoes burnt in the fire and home made toffee and parkin. Someone's Dad had a mill and brought us mill band to swirl round. I'm sure the bangers and riff raffs were more dangerous than any on sale today. The biggest fire, and the first for me, was on VE night when we burnt an effigy of Hitler, stuffed with sawdust provided by Mr Popple, the undertaker on Idle Road.
The war made little impression on me; we only went into the shelter twice. I knew I was deprived because grown-ups told me so, but I was quite happy with second hand toys and handed down clothes. I remember the first banana and ice cream I had. The latter was made in a dairy opposite our house. We were limited to our sweet ration but it was supplemented by kaylie (?), liquorice root and lemonade powder, eaten with a wet finger.

My social life was largely centred on Bolton Methodist Chapel. I went to Brownies, then Guides and Sunday School. We performed plays and had a choir. Later on I went to the Youth Club. We went hiking in the Dales, going out to Ilkley or Skipton on the West Yorkshire bus >from Bolton Junction, or to Shipley Glen on the Saltaire trolley. Our fish and chip shop was at the Junction where there was a full range of shops, even a rather exclusive ladies dress shop. David Hockney, whose family went to Eccleshill Methodists, painted a slightly fanciful picture of the Junction which I think is in Cartwright Hall.

I read a lot so visited Eccleshill library weekly; it was then in the Mechanics Institute, a fair walk uphill, past the Rec. and Mr Womersley's shop. Once I'd read all the small number of children's books I was allowed to go with my best friend to town on our own to the Central Library in Darley Street. We could only have been 9 or 10 years old! Later on my birthday present was a subscription to Boots Library.

The period immediately after the war was a time of austerity. 1947 was an epic winter, we sledged and played in the snow for weeks. The park lakes froze so we went skating at Bradford Moor park There were fuel shortages with the gas fire struggling to stay alight and the coal man delivering one bag at a time and much of that useless slack. Most of my adult female relatives had fur coats from before the war or fox furs or little capes at the very least and sometimes wore them in doors to save the precious coal. We were bundled up in wool vests and liberty bodices, with thermogene wadding tickling our chests if we dared to cough. We always took cod liver oil, the great day came when haliborange was invented and the foul taste became a distant memory. I refused Virol but many of my friends liked it. We all had the usual diseases, the only immunisation we had was against diphtheria. If you were unlucky enough to get scarlet fever that meant 6 weeks isolation in the Fever Hospital in Leeds Road. Antibiotics were just coming in but not widely available, however we were remarkably healthy apart from colds, chilblains and styes on our eyes.

I never wondered if I was happy or not, it never struck me I might be bullied or be in danger from paedophiles, it was just life as I lived it. There is much more to remember and I now realise how lucky I was in so many respects to have spent my early years in Eccleshill and in Bradford when it was still a self confident, vibrant, cultured city. I know it was dirty and smoggy, there were still appalling slums and gross inequalities but it was also full of opportunities and a spirit of togetherness that I don't see now when I visit.

Submitted by Olive Main (nee Hardaker), England