Anyone come from Grimesthorpe? (Part 2)

[Hawksheadboy 10]

Hello Everyone,

Started to write up another of my Grimesthorpe memories. Here's the first episode:

Bonfire Night 1961 part 1

The din was quite impressive. Boys, six of them were dragging up the street an old horsehair –stuffed settee that had seen better days. Balanced on one buckled castor and three metal prongs, the boys dragged it, shoved it and carried it up the hill all the while talking. Whistling and shouting:

“Watch where tha goin’ Paul…”

“Oyer pushin’ at back there o’ restin’ on it?”

“Gi us an ‘and Foxy yer peasant!”

And all the time the old couch lurched forward by jumps, screeching it’s protest to the parish. The procession was swollen by kids in diminishing sizes excitedly yelling encouragement and mockery and dogs caught up in the general racket, as dogs are, running back and forth expectantly.

 

Ever so often the brown, formless lump of furniture would strike some projection or someone would lose hold and the abduction would stop as the “pushers”, Tom and Keith sprawled over the back whilst the “draggers” and “lifters” Mal, Gurner, Paul and occasionally Foxy would lose hold and shoot ahead where the settee should have gone. Then there would be a reshuffle.

“Thee come round back an’ give us an ‘and Foxy,” said Keith sweating.

“Gi o’er, wass tha think I am?” The opportunity was too much for Mal and others to resist and they began to fill the gap in Foxy’s understanding. Meanwhile the procession, like a worm catching up with itself, piled up and fresh hands grasped the ungraspable arms of the close-cropped monolith. These hands, those of the younger kids, would almost certainly be shaken off with the initial lurch into motion, once the haggling and jostling mob had sorted itself once more into a transportation crew,

 

It was then that Gurner, recently promoted to left-hand pusher, made an observation that was to have drastic consequences.

“Look at t’owd nag in t’ winder nozying at us.”

Several pairs of eyes flashed up to the bay window and laughter pealed For there, leaning slightly forward into the bay was a prim old harridan with grey hair permed into what the boys called a ‘headless duck’ style. The woman had a permanently self-righteous look which occasionally cracked into what she herself would have called a discreet but winning smile: the boys judged the same phenomenon as they judged the appearance of flowers in gloomy schoolrooms, or an accidentally large portion of chips in “Old Necker’s” fishshop –that is as something incongruous and unnatural. The blue eyes were rather severe, the nose like some bulbous stalactite dripped down towards the long, sharp chin which she now directed at the boys in lieu of an accusing forefinger. Indeed the chin so resembled that digit as to make a finger quite redundant for pointing purposes.

 

The mouth at the window said something curt but inaudible: the meaning however was plain. Loosing hold of the settee the boys glanced one to the other: some laughed but with embarrassment not mirth. Almost instantaneously the woman was upon them, showing no signs of haste, no shortness of breath nor any sort of ammunition, as they were to find out:

“And why shouldn’t I look out of my own window?” she challenged Gurner, who grinned uneasily; but this was apparently not a question as she proceeded to answer it herself. “I’ve a perfect right to look from the windows of my own house any time I like.” Keith tried to pacify:

“Course you have,” he coaxed and the others murmured their assent to this prerogative. They didn’t mind if she looked out of her window all day long. Ignoring this peace offering she surged onwards:

“I’ve a right to sit in my own house without havin’ people make rude remarks at me haven’t I?” After another murmured debate this too was assented to and the boys began to avert their gaze from the woman, taking fresh hold on the settee as a less than subtle hint. But the woman was not yet satisfied and delivered two further broadsides at the deflated lads and then finally, like a prima donna, sailed unhurriedly from the field of combat to her lookout station at the end of the passageway which cut through to the back of the houses. From this vantage point she watched the subdued but still noisy parade until it was off her territory. The metallic screeching which a few moments earlier had seemed impressive now seemed discordant and uncouth.

Edited November 6, 2009 by Hawksheadboy

[skelwith kid 10]

Hello everyone, it's November 5th and Bonfire Night again. I got thinking today about Bonfire Nights when we were kids and how much we looked forward to it. It wasn't a 'grown up' organised thing but something that we just did, every year.

Our gang's preparations started in the Summer. Towards the end of the school holidays, and running out of things to do, our thoughts turned to collecting bommy wood. Although the term 'bommy wood' included wood, it also meant anything that would burn so Jimmy Child's tip was our favorite scrounging place. I remember loading old railway sleepers on our trolleys and rolling lorry tyres down Wincobank Hill, one of them demolishing a greenhouse in the allotments.

The tip watchman, an eldely chap called Bert Roddis did his best to scupper our pilfering. "Gerrart on it yer thievin' little buggers, if a catch yer yer'll get me stick across yer arses".

All our hard won bommy wood was destined for here.

The junction of Holywell Road and Rothay Road. In the fifties, this was an area of 'spare ground', we don't hear about 'spare ground' these days, probably because it's all been built on. Anyway, this piece of 'spare ground' was known as The Back Ollers, why? I have no idea apart from there being a few 'ollows.

The bonfire gradually grew in hight and great pride was achieved in having the biggest bonfire in the area. This was only surpassed by the the number of three piece suites we collected. Great for sitting in comfort around the fire and always thrown on, last.

Once the fire was lit and going well, it was time for the best bit, throwing fireworks about. Squibs, Little Demons, Bangers and Jumpers, none of those sissy 'Golden Rains' for us. The Bangers made ten times the noise if we threw them down the terrace passages then ran like 'ell when the 'grown ups' chased us. "Yer little sods, yer've freetened bloody dog to death".

The fireworks all gone, it was back to the bonfire for some serious cooking. I can still taste those potatos today, black and charcoal on the outside, raw on the inside.

Then it was time to chuck on the old settees before going home, filthy and stinking of smoke.

No, we didn't have a bath before going to bed, November 5th is on a Thursday, bathnight is Monday.

 

Ive just found this site & this brings back memories good job things weren't so P.C in them days we wouldnt have had any fun, pity poor kids today.

[skippy 11]

That brought back a lot of memories Ralph, I remember that we kept the fires burning for weeks after.

One year my mates dressed me up like a guy, because we didn't have enough filling etc, and we only wanted to make some money, everything went fine until a big kid tried to knock the head off it, it was my bloody head that was covered with a brown paper bag with a face painted on it, I certainly got a shock, but he got a bigger one when I yelled out.

[STEVE H 10]

:loopy:YOU KNOW BATH NIGHTS ON A SUNDAY READY FOR SCHOOL MONDAY MORNING :hihi:

 

Hi pigeon, tin bath in front of kitchen fire, i was last in so had dirty topped up with clean boiling water, plus soap scum on top. Happy days don't know their

born today. First proper bath i used was when i started courting the wife think i was about 17 just before our house was knocked down.

[STEVE H 10]

Ive just found this site & this brings back memories good job things weren't so P.C in them days we wouldnt have had any fun, pity poor kids today.

Hi skelwith kid, give us some clues as to who you are.

[pigeon 11]

Hi pigeon, tin bath in front of kitchen fire, i was last in so had dirty topped up with clean boiling water, plus soap scum on top. Happy days don't know their

born today. First proper bath i used was when i started courting the wife think i was about 17 just before our house was knocked down.

WHEN WE MOVED HOUSE I KEPT FROGS AND TOADS IN THE OLD TIN BATH:hihi:USED TO CATCH THEM AT CRABTREE POND HAPPY MEMORIES.

[Bantambuddy 10]

Yes you are right Morty, there was always a huge bonfire at the end of the "hollers" near Brathay Road

 

There was also one at the other end of them.

[Bantambuddy 10]

Hello Everyone,

Started to write up another of my Grimesthorpe memories. Here's the first episode:

Bonfire Night 1961 part 1

The din was quite impressive. Boys, six of them were dragging up the street an old horsehair –stuffed settee that had seen better days. Balanced on one buckled castor and three metal prongs, the boys dragged it, shoved it and carried it up the hill all the while talking. Whistling and shouting:

“Watch where tha goin’ Paul…”

“Oyer pushin’ at back there o’ restin’ on it?”

“Gi us an ‘and Foxy yer peasant!”

And all the time the old couch lurched forward by jumps, screeching it’s protest to the parish. The procession was swollen by kids in diminishing sizes excitedly yelling encouragement and mockery and dogs caught up in the general racket, as dogs are, running back and forth expectantly.

 

Ever so often the brown, formless lump of furniture would strike some projection or someone would lose hold and the abduction would stop as the “pushers”, Tom and Keith sprawled over the back whilst the “draggers” and “lifters” Mal, Gurner, Paul and occasionally Foxy would lose hold and shoot ahead where the settee should have gone. Then there would be a reshuffle.

“Thee come round back an’ give us an ‘and Foxy,” said Keith sweating.

“Gi o’er, wass tha think I am?” The opportunity was too much for Mal and others to resist and they began to fill the gap in Foxy’s understanding. Meanwhile the procession, like a worm catching up with itself, piled up and fresh hands grasped the ungraspable arms of the close-cropped monolith. These hands, those of the younger kids, would almost certainly be shaken off with the initial lurch into motion, once the haggling and jostling mob had sorted itself once more into a transportation crew,

 

It was then that Gurner, recently promoted to left-hand pusher, made an observation that was to have drastic consequences.

“Look at t’owd nag in t’ winder nozying at us.”

Several pairs of eyes flashed up to the bay window and laughter pealed For there, leaning slightly forward into the bay was a prim old harridan with grey hair permed into what the boys called a ‘headless duck’ style. The woman had a permanently self-righteous look which occasionally cracked into what she herself would have called a discreet but winning smile: the boys judged the same phenomenon as they judged the appearance of flowers in gloomy schoolrooms, or an accidentally large portion of chips in “Old Necker’s” fishshop –that is as something incongruous and unnatural. The blue eyes were rather severe, the nose like some bulbous stalactite dripped down towards the long, sharp chin which she now directed at the boys in lieu of an accusing forefinger. Indeed the chin so resembled that digit as to make a finger quite redundant for pointing purposes.

 

The mouth at the window said something curt but inaudible: the meaning however was plain. Loosing hold of the settee the boys glanced one to the other: some laughed but with embarrassment not mirth. Almost instantaneously the woman was upon them, showing no signs of haste, no shortness of breath nor any sort of ammunition, as they were to find out:

“And why shouldn’t I look out of my own window?” she challenged Gurner, who grinned uneasily; but this was apparently not a question as she proceeded to answer it herself. “I’ve a perfect right to look from the windows of my own house any time I like.” Keith tried to pacify:

“Course you have,” he coaxed and the others murmured their assent to this prerogative. They didn’t mind if she looked out of her window all day long. Ignoring this peace offering she surged onwards:

“I’ve a right to sit in my own house without havin’ people make rude remarks at me haven’t I?” After another murmured debate this too was assented to and the boys began to avert their gaze from the woman, taking fresh hold on the settee as a less than subtle hint. But the woman was not yet satisfied and delivered two further broadsides at the deflated lads and then finally, like a prima donna, sailed unhurriedly from the field of combat to her lookout station at the end of the passageway which cut through to the back of the houses. From this vantage point she watched the subdued but still noisy parade until it was off her territory. The metallic screeching which a few moments earlier had seemed impressive now seemed discordant and uncouth.

 

Hawkshead, I was just thinking the other day that it was about time you put keyboard to screen and gave us another of your wonderful tales of old and here is the first episode hopefully more to come

[Bantambuddy 10]

Ive just found this site & this brings back memories good job things weren't so P.C in them days we wouldnt have had any fun, pity poor kids today.

 

Nathenwhoarthygisusaclue

 

Oh forgot my manners welcome to the thread

Edited November 6, 2009 by Bantambuddy

[geotom 10]

Hi Ralph, what about pulling settees to bits to see if any money had been lost down the back.

[Flo Fennel 10]

I have a memory of the last bonfire I attended "ont'ollers" on 5th November 1971, late evening after my dad's funeral. Almost all my family sat around it on furniture destined for the pyre. Dad loved Bonfire Night, though he pretended it was a bit of a chore letting off the fireworks. He had a succession of "favourite" chairs that were for his use only. They were often battered and mismatched with the other furniture in the house and very often they found their way on to the bonfire in the communal back yard of 40,42,44 and 46 Rothay Road on Bonfire Night, but only if he was on the afternoon shift so the ceremony could take place before he came home. After the initial pretence at shock and horror, he took it all in good part and somehow managed to acquire another chair of the same ilk. He used to say that when he died, his cremation should be on the bonfire, sitting in a favourite chair. How strange that his funeral should be on 5th November .......

[benbob 10]

Hi pigeon, tin bath in front of kitchen fire, i was last in so had dirty topped up with clean boiling water, plus soap scum on top. Happy days don't know their

born today. First proper bath i used was when i started courting the wife think i was about 17 just before our house was knocked down.

 

Tin baths and outside loos-such memories.

 

It was only when we were moved from Adsetts Street to Southey Green in 1970 ( and I was 19 then) that we had our first inside toilet and bathroom suite!

 

But wouldn't change it for the opportunity of growing up in todays world.

 

I also seem to remember the Adsetts Street bonfire very similar to those described-everyone mucked in and enjoyed it and sparklers were only for the wimps!