Rodwell Road 1950's

[Wardy]

diwhy; It sounds like me swapping roller skates, I always liked a deal. Do you remember me? Who are you? give me a clue, where did you live?

macroban: I remember those girls, just.

[SteveT]

Your book sounds like the 'Child of the Jago'.

Same sort of flavour though a little earlier I think.

It sounds like an excellent read.

[chuff]

My mother was one of those Honor Oak girls!

[diwhy]

Hi Wardy

My mum stopped me swapping my Hopalong Cassidy watch for your skates with the worn out wheels, can't think why :)

Born and raised at no.16 Michael,Mike or Mick - I think I was the only kid with glasses, dad was a postman

The Robinsons, who lived in Heber Road, their back garden wall used to be the base for most of the kids games from cricket and football to runouts is now gone and 2 houses are there.

Another of Polish Stan's tricks was to just drive until he hit something then get out and go indoors.

I used to do saturday deliveries for Tommy Cornwall with a handcart and I remember the bloke who did the deals with your dad.

I remember that once Tommy Cornwall was pissed and drove down cyrena, turned right into rodwell on 2 wheels and dumped most of his load of oranges etc. in the road before disappearing - That started a bit of a feeding frenzy amongst the neighbours.

The only teachers I remember at Heber, apart from Heester, was mr.Ibotson and miss Rabbatts. Ibotson was a stamp collector and ran a sort of stamp club which I got banned from after knocking tea all over his collection. Miss Rabbatts got married somewhere in the Village, possibly St. Stephens. My dad alegedly threatened to punch Heester for accusing me of always being in trouble - good ole dad :))

[GSJ57]

I was one of those Honor Oak girls - only got in because my older sister went there tho'! I had no idea I lived up the posh end... it didn't feel very posh when I was scraping the ice off the inside of the windows in winter! I must have been a rebel because I used to play in the street all the time! There weren't too many kids up that end - I remember playing with

some kids who lived in Landcroft. I remember the shop on the corner of Rodwell and Cyrena as being derelict when we lived there, I used to hate walking past it.....very spooky! Does anyone remember Don's sweet shop just around the corner in Heber, opposite the Heber Arms? Great memories, thanks Wardy! You really should publish the book!

[Wardy]

diwhy: If you lived at no 16 you must have lived in one of the houses with an airy (basement). In the book which I have written I mention the Hopalong Casidy watch, thats going back a long way. Tell me your surename, Im trying hard to remember you. Did you live near Lyn Green or Chalie and Sis, they lived on the corner and had all the rabbits. I remember Vanessa Watts, her dad was a postman, I can remember the Robinsons there sons name was Johnny or John. You must give me another clue to who you are, I?m racking my brains out trying to place you. Did you live in Rodwell Road and then move to Dog Kennel Hill. Are you the boy who had an accident when a wardrobe fell on you? If you are I can remember we had a fight and I got the better of you, told my mum, thinking she would be proud of me, but instead gave me a belting; we would only have been about 6years old.

[Reg Smeeton]

Can I just say that as a not-quite-your-generation East Dulwich old fogey, I'm thoroughly enjoying this insight into Rodwell life in the fifties. I can't wait to hear more about the wardrobe accident.

[Wardy]

GSJ57; I remember Don's shop very well, I can remember when it was owned by Don. He was a good bloke who?s real job was a bus conductor, his wife run the shop. Unfortunately Don found an interest in another woman and they split up. Dons was never the same after that. In Dons you could buy a penny glass of lemonade. I can remember a new drink coming onto the market called ?Fling? it was cheap and us kids could afford to buy a bottle instead of a glass.

[Wardy]

This blogg about Rodwell Road seems to be getting popular, perhaps we can start a cult following. I wrote a lot in my book about the characters who lived in Rodwell Road in the 50?s; I thought you may like to read about the following as a taster: Enjoy.

A family whose peculiarity was not the result of war but more the result of birth was Charlie and Sis. This couple lived in an aerie (basement) on the corner of the block just over the road from where I lived.

Charlie, as with Sis his wife, couldn?t read or write. Charlie worked for the railway; all railways in those days were owned by British Railways. Working for the railway was a good solid permanent job with free travel and a free uniform. I can remember Charlie?s uniform: it was black trousers, a waistcoat with a chain and whistle hanging from the pocket and a peaked cap; he wore that uniform every hour of every day.

Charlie was a porter with the railway. His job was to fetch and carry a few bags, do some cleaning and generally make himself useful, but the real Charlie wasn?t a man who loved trains, but a man who loved rabbits and canaries; he loved them so much he had hundreds of the bloody things, and I mean hundreds.

As a lad, Charlie would talk to me, or anyone for that matter, outside of his aerie. He would stand at the top of the steps, leading from the aerie, waiting for someone to pass so he could have a chat. If he found someone to chat to he would soon be accompanied by Sis. The two of them would keep their victim cornered for hours on end, talking about anything that didn?t make sense.

On one occasion, I would have been about eight years old at the time, I was talking to Charlie and Sis and I expressed an interest in keeping rabbits. After gabbling on for some time about the different types of rabbits, Charlie done the unexpected and invited me in to see his collection of various breeds of rabbits. I say unexpected because I don?t know of anyone who was ever invited into his house; and what a treat this was going to be for me.

My house was not the best in the street by a long way, but Charlie and Sis lived in conditions I had never seen or could even imagine. Every room had cages containing live rabbits. There were cages hanging from the walls, sitting on the table and placed on the floor; there were hundreds of rabbits, all types and all sizes. The house absolutely stunk of rabbit shit and piss ? it was so strong it made my eyes water. No wonder they were always outside, I thought. But that wasn?t it. All three of us went into their bedroom and to my surprise there were no rabbits, not one. Instead there were dozens and dozens of caged budgies, and the noise of all these birds chirping was out of this world; it?s probably why I?m deaf today.

The thing I remember the most about the bedroom was a large hand-made budgie cage nailed to the bed head. It was made from bits of old timber and packing cases. I looked at the cage and thought, ?How can they sleep at night with all this noise and budgies above shitting on their heads all night?? But things weren?t to end there.

We left the house and entered the garden. I say garden ? it was more like a huge rabbit warren. Rabbit cages were stacked as high as a man could reach on every square inch of ground. Now there were hundreds in the house, but out here there were thousands. I didn?t think there were that many rabbits in the word, let alone just across the road from where I lived.

Before I finish with Charlie and Sis I would like to tell you about an amusing event. Charlie and Sis lived in the aerie for many years, alone and without children. One day I was passing and Charlie popped his head up. Knowing I was trapped, I engaged in conversation. Soon afterwards, as expected, Sis appeared and joined in the conversation. Imagine my surprise when another head appeared from the aerie. ?Who?s this lady?? I thought. All four of us stood talking for some time before Sis introduced the other person as their daughter Mary. This surprised me because they looked the same age.

After a while I couldn?t hold back any longer and I asked Mary how old she was. ?I?m forty two,? she said, ?and my mum is forty.? Coming from anyone else this would have been a joke, but from these people it was a serious answer.

Charlie, Sis and Mary were not your everyday people; they obviously had problems upstairs, but they kept themselves going with their interest in rabbits and birds, chatting at the top of the steps and generally keeping themselves amused. They never hurt or interfered with anyone, never had any involvement with social workers and earned their own money without relying on hand-outs; they were true characters and I will always remember them with fondness.

[Wardy]

diwhy; Been thinking, was your name Mickey Staines?

[diwhy]

wardy - I vaguely remember charlie and sis, but mary really sticks in my mind, she once told me she got into trouble with the police because she used to break the old fire alarm posts (that used to look like parking meters - never actually seen one myself) and she showed me a photo of her leaning on one. She said she actually broke them - not just set them off - big woman.

Nex on my side of the road -

Lynne Green is my cousin and her older sister pat, my unle pat used to manage the the carpet shop in peckham next to the pie and mash shop - it was the only shop to get burnt down during the "riots" ;-).

Next to them was an old lady whose name escapes me but her son was an "artist" and lived in the aerie - painted the front of the house purple and gold - nice

Once when playing cricket I put a ball through her window - everyone scarperred, but I did the "right thing" and went to own up. Dad was well pleased - he had to get the window fixed - apparently I should have scarperred

Somewhere in the row of houses I remember an Irish family, youngest son patrick (hughes I think)was in my class at heber and his brother donald who was cat stevens road manager, he used to drive around in a mk 10 jag.

Was there a gillian barnard ?

Vanessa Watts certainly remember her and her dad Cyril who I beleive was a Judo instructor.

At no.20 there was another bunch of robinsons, david with identical twin daughters and a son david, who married pat green

Me at 16, my dad painted all the brickwork on the front of the house - seemed a good idea at the time.

At 14 was Lily and Bert Farthing and their 2 sons, roy and derek - derek had a club foot and bert used to drive tipper lorries for cox's plant hire.

12 was Vi and Jack anderson and 2 sons john and barry, john was our age and had a blond spot on top of his head like a bleach bottle had dripped on him.

At no 10 was my nan flo green

A couple of houses along was the first black man I had ever seen, he used to live in the aerie and I used to chat with him for ages, don't think I ever got his name, but being about 6 years old I don't think it would have taken me long to forget it anyway.

There was a strange old man who used to live in the aerie of the last house that used to wrap up his rubbish and rather than use a dustbin, he'd dump it somewhere - usually behind the wall in cyrena.

I'll have a think about the people I can remember from your side of the road

[GSJ57]

Wardy, our surname was James. My dad was born at number 41 in 1924. I lived there from 1962 - 1973 at number 76. My great grandparents (surname Banks) lived at number 14 in 1900, before moving to number 41. My grandparents and great grandparents shared number 41 for a few years.

[Wardy]

diwhy: I was I was driving home from Liverpool today and your face and your dads face popped into my mind. If I remember correctly your dad had thick grey hair and wore glasses. I remember him to be a nice placid man who I often had a chat with me, particularly as I got older. If I remember correctly your mum died when you were a young teenager. I can also remember you buying your first car and constructing your own designed exhaust system, I think it went off like a bomb and caught fire, the exhaust system that is not the car. I can also remember coming out of a butchers shop at the bottom of Lordship land. I heard a bang and the next thing I saw was you flying through the air like a trapezes artist; you had hit a car on your motorbike. You landed some 100 yards down the road. If I?m correct you only broke your finger. You asked me to go home and tell your dad. I remember all the people you are talking about, Sis always has a story to tell. I remember the twins, one of them Brenda, lives just down the road to me in Norfolk . There uncle Ernie lived in the airy bellow. I met him again shortly before he died some years ago. I really appreciate you giving me some names which I had forgotten over the years. Johnny Anderson I believe lives in Lincolnshire, he has some sort of freezer business. With regard to you football going through a window. I put my catapult through Jean and Charlie?s window, they had a daughter called Gillian. I didn?t own up but run away; that hole in their window stayed there for years. I can also remember at one time having an abundance of tame mice. Mum told me to get rid of them. I went across the road and put them in someone?s, not say whose, letterbox. When they got home from work they must have gone barmy; there were about 50 of them. Tell me; by my description above am I talking about the same Mick I knew all those years ago? Regards Wardy

[Wardy]

GSJ47: I can remember the name james, but I dont associat it with anyone of my age; I will need to have a think. I lived at No 25. Are the higher numbers you are talking about up the other end? You mentioned no 14; diwhy (see above) also mentions this house. Give me some more clues. If you are about my age 58/59 and you moved into Rodwell Road in 1962, I would know you, at that age you tried to get to know all the girls. Just had a thought, 41 was near to Crystal Palace Road, so you did live in my end. You must have lived close to a family called Scott. You must have also lived near the house which was in Crystal Palace Road but the garden ran along Rodwell Road on the corner, it had glass cemented in to the top. Am I getting close?

[Wardy]

Reg Smeeton: Keep watching this space and you may find out about the wardrobe and a lot more. Thanks for looking in. Wardy

[GSJ57]

Wardy, My great grandparents were down your end at number 14, but they were there in the early 1900's, before your time. My grandparents lived at number 41, in the newer end, just across the break from Cyrena. Their names were Sid (real name Stephen, but everyone called him Sid!) and Winifred James. They were there from the 1920's until the 1950's. My grandmother died in 1953. Do you remember Doll or Dolly Banks? She was my Great Aunt and lived at number 41 until the 1990's. I lived at number 76 up by Landcroft Rd from 1962 to 1973. I'm about 6/7 years younger than you. Hope this helps!

[macroban]

James?

One of those young Honor Oak girls was Rosemary James.

[diwhy]

Wardy - Bang on :)

I'd forgotten about the motorbike and flying lessons - I actually hit a w.h.smith lorry, the bike got wedged in the side of it, when I picked myself the handlebars were bent back into the tank, engine on full throttle, petrol pouring everywhere and I cut off the engine.

Not sure if I ever said thanks for telling mum and dad, but thanks - shortly after you told them, the story got back to them about the crash and the rider being dead with the fire brigade hosing the blood down the drain :))

Funny I can still remember the lorry drivers name but never knew the twins names, I only ever knew them as the twinnys. Their uncle ernie was a bit of a radio buff, used to also make crystal sets and have wire strung all over the place as an aerial

I think one of the components af my car exhaust was a baked bean can - honest - I shall say no more.......

Charlie and Jean sounds about right for Gillian Barnards parents.

John Anderson started out with a small holding and kept pigs - his mum told me he named them all so he knew who he was taking to the slaughterhouse.

You've gone a bit wonky with your reply to GSJ57, at no.14, my memories of the Farthings would only have started in the 50s - also 41 was the posh end - surprised she speaks to you ;-)

Heading from you to the corner of Crystal Palace, the first one I can remember is Polish Stan, then it was the Scotts, daughter Jennifer who used to "babysit" me.

For the benefit of our younger viewers, in the good old days any girl was considered suitable to babysit if they were a year older than said "baby" and didn't have a dirty neck. It wasn't called babysitting, it was called "watch xxxx and make sure he doesn't get into trouble"

I still see Jenny, husband Ron and their son Lee quite regularly, they all now live around bromley after starting off married life in Pellatt.

The last garden on your side I think with glass on the wall, house in crystal palace road was a bloke called morris I think, he used to do motorbike scrambling and would occasionally thrash up the road on his back wheel. For a short time he also drove around in a Cadillac. I think in some strange way we were related, sort of cousins wifes, husbands inlaws - very confusing.

In the opposite direction from you towards Cyrena, skipping the Robinsons playing field - sorry, wall - there was Johnny Cutler, used to ride motorbike and sidecar, I think his wife was Mary.

Then there was the Dodds, the only one I can remember was the son, who luckily didn't understand the abuse and ridicule that was aimed at him - feeling guilty now.

Changing subject, did you have an older brother that was a teddyboy and used to wear the drape coat and stuff ?

All for now, all this remembering is making me thirsty

[GSJ57]

Hi macroban.......that would be my sister!!!!

[diwhy]

Eric - I know that interest in a subject, on a forum is not really a guide to interest from the general public, but I really think you should try to get your book(s) published.

If nothing else, just to say you did it.

Mick

[Wardy]

diwhy: This has brought back a lot of memories. Let?s start with the Dodds. The son you talk about was Tony and his surname was Shepherd. He lived upstairs to Violet and Linda Dodds. His dads name was Done and he had a brother, cant remember his name. The guy with the motorbikes I remember well; what was the name of the people who lived on the opposite side of the road to him, was it Herbert? I seem to remember there was a large family who all went Hop picking. Do you remember the Gas Pots, they lived next door to me at No 27, they never spoke to anyone. Say hello to Jennifer form me, she is a cousin of my brother in law. With all these sort of relatives in the same street it?s a wonder we didn?t finish up with 6 fingers. Do you remember humpty back Johnny he was married to flow and Sam, he lived opposite me and fell down the airy and was killed. Do you still live in the area? Did you finish up married? I did and finished up with 4 children; love them all. Keep on bloging, if that?s the right word, speak to you again. Wardy

[Wardy]

Mick, my wife tells me the same thing. I think you are both right and I will make some movement to see how to do this. You never know perhaps someone looking at this thread is a publisher. However if that fails I may put my stories on this thread, a chapter each week. You never know might get a following and be famouse in Dulwich. Anyway what about you, you have a lot of stories to tell and I can tell you have a similar sense of humour to me.

[Wardy]

GSJ47 I remember the Banks family and I seam to remember a boy called Banks, am I correct?

[GSJ57]

No, the Banks family had 4 girls - my grandmother was one of them.

[Wardy]

There as been some metion on this thread about the corner shop in Rodwell Road and two ladies that run the shop Hilder and Doll. These two ladies have a special memory in my heart and I would like to dedicate the folowing chater from my bok to them:

I have mentioned several times the ?corner shop?. It?s probably hard for you to imagine, but when I was a child there were no hypermarkets, supermarkets or even mini-markets. Everything was bought from the corner shop. Some streets had one corner shop and some streets had two or three corner shops. In my street there was a corner grocers shop, just down the hill was another grocer, and up the hill were another grocer, a sweet shop and a cobbler?s shop (that?s a shoe-repair shop).

The corner shop in my street was the hub of the community. It was here that families bought all the food for the week, listened to all the gossip and generally passed the time of day.

One thing you never done in those days was pay for your goods at the time of purchase. People didn?t buy all the shopping at one go; they would buy food daily and the cost of that food was put on to what was called a ?bill?. At the end of the week, usually Friday afternoon or Saturday morning, you would go to the shop and settle your bill. Every Friday afternoon and Saturday morning all corner shops would be bustling with people paying their bills and buying shopping for the weekend. No one seemed to rush in those days; people would stand in the shop talking about all kinds of things. No one got angry at the wait to be served; in fact paying your bill was like a social event ? it was something to look forward to.

Very often on a Friday, my mum would say to me, ?I?m going up the corner shop to pay the bill. Do you want to come?? Like a shot I would say ?Yes?. I loved the corner shop and I loved looking at all those people.

The one thing I could never understand was that when mum settled her weekly bill she would then buy food for the weekend. Every time, Doll, the lady who owned the shop, would ask, ?Are you paying for this?? ?No,? mum would reply, ?put it on my bill,? and so the cycle would start all over again.

The corner shop of yesterday would give today?s modern shopper a heart attack. Firstly you didn?t help yourself ? all the goods were behind the counter and you ask for what you wanted. Cheese didn?t come in packets, it was cut to order, and eggs weren?t packed in boxes of six, you bought them singularly. As an example you would by two ounces of cheese, which would be put into a small brown bag, and two eggs, which would probably accompany the cheese in the brown bag. As for biscuits, they didn?t come in packets ? packets were about, but you mainly bought biscuits loose from a tin.

The thing about these biscuits, which would drive today?s hygiene-conscious society to oblivion, was the display area. They were displayed in their tins with the lids off outside the shop on the pavement. They would lay there exposed to nature?s elements, flies, spit from the coughs of passers-by, sneezes and the occasional cock of the leg from a roaming dog.

I can still remember those biscuits; they never seemed to have a crunch or a snap; they were always soft and slightly damp. Having said that, they were the best biscuits I have ever tasted; Tesco could never match the taste in a million years, at least not without the help of a couple of Labradors.