[Growing up in Bilborough]

[Growing up in Bilborough]

Good to see all the interesting recent postings. Thanks katyjay for the photo of Sandra, she looks a fair bit different to what I remember but is still recognisable and was still lovely. Of course the photo was taken six or seven years on from when I knew her and we all changed so much in what seems now to be such a short period. I can vaguely recall that Sandra wrote to me just after we had moved to say that she had won a “Miss Popeye” competition, does that bring back any memories.

One thing I particularly miss living her in Spain is bonfire night. Although they have lots of firework events it is just not the same. So here are some of my childhood memories of the 5^th November.

BONFIRE NIGHT

The days before bonfire night were always filled with excitement. There did not seem to be too many restrictions on buying fireworks as if you had the money you could always get them. The merits of different fireworks were discussed, some preferred "Brocks", “Astra” or “Lion” but there was no doubt to me that the "Standard" banger wreaked the most damage. The Standard penny ‘Cannon’ banger was the most used, but now and then we would have the renowned penny-halfpenny ‘Thunderflash’. To hold, let alone use, one of those orange wrapped cardboard tubes filled with gunpowder was pure delight. We did all the silly things like trying to blow up bottles, throw lit fireworks to see if we could time them to explode in mid-air and also cut them open and use the powder to make a flash.

I remember that one day my friend and I found a trickle of water coming out of the edge of the woods. A plan was hatched and we clawed at the soft ground with our hands and improvised tools made from old branches to make a channel. We widened and deepened part of channel and spend a long time, using mud and sticks, to build a dam across it. By the time we had finished it was late and we had to go home so we diverted the water away from the channel and camouflaged our handiwork with ferns and grass. With school the next day we did not know until after tea on that day if our work had survived. After tea we found the dam was still intact so we let the water build up behind it, inserted a few bangers and blow it to bits.

I was always fortunate in having a good collection of fireworks that were looked at every night as I counted the days down to bonfire night. The fireworks were always stored in the cupboard on the right hand side of the kitchen as you walked in the back door.

Of course we would also build a guy and take it out on a cart or just carry it to an area near the shops either at Bracebridge Drive in Bilborough or at the top of Middleton Boulevard. The guy’s body was made up from old clothes stuffed with newspaper with the head from an old stocking again filled with crumpled up newspaper. It was quite profitable and the proceeds were split equally between us to be invested in fireworks. All Bonfire parties were held on 5 November no matter what day it fell on or what the weather was like.

The excitement was intense as dusk fell, the jacket potatoes were put in the oven to be half cooked before going in the bonfire, the chestnuts were put at the ready to be put straight on the bonfire and the fireworks appraised for the last time. A good selection would include numerous Bangers, Sky Rockets, Flying Bombers, Volcano’s, Shimmering Cascades, Traffic Lights, Roman Candles, Crackerjacks, Jumping Jacks and Catherine Wheels. Dad would check that the Catherine Wheels would spin freely on their pins, which he nailed to the fence post, and then we would follow him expectantly to the bonfire. Rockets were launched from old milk bottles slightly buried in the ground.

The material for the fire had been carefully collected from the woods and any other possible source over the previous few weeks. Many sheets of newspaper would be screwed up and positioned inside and then the moment came when it was lit. When the weather had been wet Dad would use some of the paraffin from the heater supply, this would sometimes give a bit more flame than was expected.

On the night we were not allowed to play with the fire or light the fireworks ourselves, except for sparklers and those made to be held. This did not detract from the fun, we could still creep up behind someone, usually a girl, and shout "banger". The fire blazed, the jacket potatoes and chestnuts were eaten, the fireworks discharged and all too quickly it was over. With the smell of smoke and powder in our nostrils and with tired bleary eyes we would drop off to sleep dreaming of a wonderful night. “Perhaps next year we might try the "Brocks Bangers”.

Another treat at Bonfire night was that Dad sometimes would shoot a blank in his Smith & Wesson revolver which he had from his work in security at Players. Dads other souvenir which we liked to handle was his diver’s knife from the war. This was honed to perfection and the brass case was heavy and well-polished. For some reason the pair seemed to go together and be associated with bonfire night. Perhaps it was that slightly illicit feeling associated with the bangers.

The next day we would scout round the local area and find as many sticks and cases from the spent rockets and other fireworks and would dump them on the smouldering remains of the bonfire to try and keep it going.

Final thought, what happened to “Light the blue touchpaper and stand clear”

Hope this provokes some happy memories

Remember, remember the Fifth of November

The Gunpowder Treason and plot

I see no reason why Gunpowder Treason

Should ever be forgot

Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes 'twas his intent

To blow up the King and the Parliament

Three score barrels of powder below

Poor old England to overthrow

By God's providence he was catch'd

With a dark lantern and burning match

Holler boys, holler boys, ring bells ring

Holler boys, holler boys, God Save the King!

A penny loaf to feed the Pope

A farthing o'cheese to choke him

A pint of beer to rinse it down

A faggot of sticks to burn him

Burn him in a tub of tar

Burn him like a blazing star

Burn his body from his head

Then we'll say old Pope is dead

Hip Hip Hoorah!

Hip Hip Hoorah!

Hip Hip Hoorah!

[Growing up in Bilborough]

[Growing up in Bilborough]

Well it’s back to my threatened series of memories of the time I lived in Bilborough. I have so far covered Medicines, Woods & Fields, Canal, Toys, Games we used to Play, the Railway Bridge and The Radio. Now for the Television

TELEVISION WHILE LIVING IN BILBOROUGH

As we grew older, about 9 - 11 years we would go home and watch the magic of television which we had from about 1953 as I remember everyone gathering around for the Coronation of Queen Elizabeth II. The first time that we had seen television was at cousin’s house in 1952. The turning point for television came in 1953 with the Coronation. In the build up to the day 526,000 television sets were bought. By this time a set would cost you about £85.00 and it was estimated that there were two and a half million sets in Britain. It also introduced the voice of the BBC, Richard Dimbleby.

The broadcast started at 10 a.m. with Sylvia Peters introducing Berkeley Smith the commentator outside Buckingham Palace, and it ended at 11.30 p.m. when Richard Dimbleby said good night from an empty Westminster Abbey. The Coronation was then the biggest television event in history. It was estimated that 20 million people in Britain watched the event. It was beamed around the world with an estimated audience of 277 million. The BBC did all of this for £44,000.

Although the Coronation was broadcast the Queens speech, which we always listened to at Christmas, remained on the wireless for a number of years. The television set was fairly large but the screen was small relative to the box itself.

BBC was the only channel available and even this at times had poor reception. On such occasions we would go to the back of the television and adjust the vertical and horizontal hold knobs to see if that made a difference. On such occasions we would go to the back of the television and adjust the vertical and horizontal hold knobs to see if that made a difference even though the signal was through the Rediffusion system.

The licence fee for television, which included the radio, was £2 per annum. There was also a licence for a ‘sound set fitted in a car’, a luxury that not many people had.

The standard set supplied by Rediffusion was the Plessey TDUK-1 9 inch screen model and we later bought a magnifier glass that was hung in front of the screen to enlarge the picture. It worked quite well if viewed from the front but the picture was a bit distorted if looked at from the side.

In 1953 we also had 'Take Your Pick', with the famous 'Yes-No Interlude' on the television. This was where the Quiz Inquisitor Michael Miles would bombard the poor contestant, for one minute, with quick fire questions. If the contestant said either yes or no the ‘gongsman’ Alec Dane would gong him or her out. If the contestant lasted a full minute they would win £1. Box 13 was the star prize box, usually a holiday. ´

The BBC was put into competition when the Television Act of 1954 , created the Indepentent Television Authority to regulate a commercial television industry and to award franchises. The first six franchises were awarded in 1954 for London, the Midlands and the North of England, with separate franchises for Weekdays and Weekends. The first ITV network to launch was London's Associated Rediffusion on 22 September 1955, with the Midlands and North services launching in February 1956 and May 1956 respectively.

I can still feel the suspense and excitement as my Uncle Tats and me settled down on the settee to watch ‘Quatermass II’. This was the second in the series following on from ‘The Quatermass Experiment’, which was first broadcast in 1953. This was the first real science fiction that I had seen on television and I presume was the forerunner to Doctor Who. I always associate this with Christmas 1955, so it must have been broadcast around about that time. It was about an alien invasion set around a sinister chemical plant in a remote part of the country. Professor Quatermass discovers a plot by aliens to take over the world by infiltrating human minds.

In 1957 I can remember watching occasionally with the family a new series called Emergency Ward 10.

Christmas 1957 was the first time that the Queens Speech was broadcast on Television which to us made it an even more auspicious occasion.

Television awoke to the fact that Rock and Roll was not a one-day wonder and BBC produced "Six- Five Special" and ITV "Oh Boy". Both these shows introduced home grown talent like Tommy Steele, Lonnie Donnegan and Marty Wilde.

Other programmes that I liked were the weekly wrestling bouts with characters like Jacky Pallow and Mick McManus. One of my other favourites was "Army Game" with Alfie Bass and Bill Fraser playing Bootsie and Snudge.

I remember getting quite concerned on one occasion when we visited some of the relatives near Hathersage because I was not sure if they would let us watch Six Five Special which was presented by Jim Dale. It was called Six Five Special as it followed the five minute six o’clock news.

On the 2 May 1959 we sat down excitedly in front of the television to watch Forest play Luton Town in the FA Cup Final. The big day was preceded by lots of souvenir editions of the Nottingham papers which I read over and over again. We sat excitedly in front of the television watching the pre match build up, the singing of ‘Abide With Me’ and the presentations to the Queen.

The game kicked off and Forest were completely in control. Forest scored twice in the first twelve minutes with Roy Dwight and Tommy Wilson getting one each. Disaster struck in the thirtieth minute when Roy Dwight broke his leg. With no substitutes allowed Forest had to play the last hour with ten men. Luton scored with thirty minutes to go but Forest hung on to win 2-1 and take the cup for only the second time in their history.

Now its Ultra High Definition Flat Screen and 3D. Some things do change for the better

[Growing up in Bilborough]

Hi Katyjay

It sure is, and to think that we were only 14 and 12 at the time. Yesterday I reached the grand old age of 70.

[Growing up in Bilborough]

Welcome Bilbrolas

After a long hot summer here in Spain with lots of visitors I now have a bit of time to get back on this forum. Interested to read recent postings on Sandra Eggleton who, if there is not another by that name, born in 1946 and lived in Bilborough, was my very first girlfriend in 1958 -1959. It was with sadness that we parted when I moved with my family to Portsmouth in the summer of 1959. If I remember correctly she lived on Monckton Drive near to the junction with Graylands Road.

[Growing up in Bilborough]

Some Images of the radio in the fifties

[Growing up in Bilborough]

Hi

Bit of a lull in my jottings due to unforeseen circumstance, 16 burglaries in our small urbanisation in Spain. Fortunately we were not one of them but our next door neighbour was.

Thanks for all your comments and memories to date.

So far I have covered, Medicines, Woods and Fields, The Canal, Railway Bridge, Toys and the Games we played, the next one is about the Radio or the Wireless as we called it then. Hope it brings back some memories,

RADIO

My most vivid memory of radio is when we used go to my Grandad and Grandma’s on Saturday for lunch. After we had had our beans on toast or tomato soup we listened with Grandad to the radio as we awaited Sports Report. The first few bars of the stirring signature tune immediately caused a hush to descend on the household. Sports Report was on the BBC Light Programme and was broadcast in two parts, the first on between 12.30 and 12.55 setting the scene on the football games of the day with information on team selection and ground conditions. The second part started at 5.30 and ended at 6.00 pm with the ‘Classified Results’. This just gave you time to get to the match and home again with all kick offs being at 3.00 pm and finishing at 4.40 pm, there was no added time for injuries and no one would ever think of wasting time on purpose. Eamonn Andrews was the presenter of the programme and his slow articulation of the football results will always stick in my mind and remind me of sitting and watching Grandad Allen marking off the scores and checking his ‘Football Pools’ coupon to see if he had managed to get those elusive eight draws.

The BBC Radio Broadcasts at the time were on three channels, the Light Programme, the Home Service and the Third Programme. The Light Programme broadcast the more popular entertainment and music, the Home Service provided the news and drama and the Third Programme was more upmarket with classical music and plays but the same time it did provide the sports programmes such as the ball by ball commentaries on the Test Matches and of course Sports Report. There was also the BBC World Service that kept English speakers across the Empire in touch..

I remember looking at amazement at the tuning dials on the wirelesses at both Grandparents houses, as these would have marked on them such places as Hilversum, Lille, Luxembourg, Warsaw and Moscow. Places that to us were a million miles away. The inside of a wireless receiver was something out of a science laboratory with glass valves and soldered wires. The cases of both wirelesses were as far as I can remember made of Bakelite and were dark brown in colour except for the faces, which I think were both in a creamy colour.

At home we would listen to programmes on Redifusion, which was a wired system installed in the house. Programmes could be selected by a switch on the wall just inside the living room, and included the Home Service, Light Programme Third Programme and Radio Luxembourg. As far as I can recall there was also a switch to allow the broadcast to be routed to one of two speakers. I remember that there was one in the Dining Room and that I used to pull up a chair against the sideboard to listen intently to the latest episode of Dick Barton Special Agent where he and his sidekicks Snowy and Jock would get in to, and eventually out of, all sorts of escapades. I think that Redifusion was installed in all the new houses on the Estate. The last series of Dick Barton began on the 3^rd October 1950 and finished on 30^th March 1951, it was broadcast daily at 6.15 pm on the Light Programme.

Sometimes we would listen on BBC radio to PC 49 who was a posh speaking but an ordinary bobby on the beat who solved crime in London. He worked for 'Q' Division of the Metropolitan Police. The series began in 1947 and lasted until 1953.

I also recall that as kids we had to be quiet whilst the daily saga of Mrs Dales Diary was enacted out on the radio. There was also an annoying advertisement for a pools firm that ended with ‘ and that’s Keynsham, K, E, Y, N, S, H, A, M, in Somerset’.

Radio Luxembourg was broadcast on the 208 metres medium wavelength and began with the opening announcement something like ‘this is your station of the stars on 208’ Because of the wavelength it was difficult to pick up during the day and in the evening it would sometimes fade in and out.

I liked to listen to the Ovaltineys show, which was broadcast Sunday evening at 5.30pm from Radio Luxembourg. It was a show to promote the Ovaltine drink and wellbeing of children. It was a mixture of songs and riddles to solve and began with the unforgettable theme tune ‘We are the Ovaltineys’.

Another favourite on Radio Luxembourg was The Adventures of Dan Dare, "Pilot of the future" which was on Monday to Friday. This serial began on July 2, 1951 and ran for five years. Although it was a serial it seemed to have a new story quite often and I think I used to listen to it from the age of about ten years although I used to read the Eagle comic from a much earlier age.

I remember the first time I heard Elvis Presley on the radio, it was at Grandma and Grandad’s house in Wollaton Park and my Uncle Tats called me in from the kitchen and said listen to this song. It was Heartbreak Hotel so I presume it was in 1956, it was the start of my love for Rock n Roll.

One of the family’s favourite radio programmes that we always listened to on a Sunday from 12 noon until 2.00 pm was Two Way Family Favourites. The show always opened with the words ‘The time in Britain is twelve noon, in Germany it’s one o’clock, but home and away it’s time for Two Way Family Favourites’. The programme linked British service personnel in Germany with their families at home. It was an extremely popular programme with a peak audience of 16 million people in Britain alone. Jean Metcalf was the announcer in Britain and it was her that made me curious about what seemed to be mysterious BFPO numbers which I always thought were some sort of code for where the forces lived because for security reasons the names of the places could not be mentioned. It was a theory that lent mystery and intrigue to what seemed to me as a child as being faraway places. The programme always gave a good mixture of music as many of the service personnel were young and up to date with the latest hits.

At every opportunity I would listen to the radio to listen to the new songs coming out. It was an exciting new time for us new ‘Teenagers’ but as television caught on to the Pop culture we would spend less time listening to radio and more time watching the new pop shows on the television or playing records on the new radiogram.

[Growing up in Bilborough]

Memories of Games in Images

[Growing up in Bilborough]

Hi

Think I am getting a bit hooked on this.

MelissaJKelly, things sure have changed and although to me my childhood was great I also see what my Grandkids have so I am sure that in the future all generations will say ‘The Good Old Days’.

Bilbraborn, love the bit about your Dad saying about the squirrel collecting all the nuts up. If you used to like the Meccano Magazine there is a great site where every issue can be looked at or downloaded in PDF format the address is http://meccano.magazines.free.fr/,

Mess, sounds as though that Chemistry set did pay off. I wonder if some of the things I did as a kid influenced my life as all that building of things kept me in good stead as I went to Uni and qualified as a Civil Engineer. I also went on to be a reasonable target rifle shooter and the crowning glory was when our Civilian Team beat a British Army one in the final of a competition in Germany.

The next saga follows

GAMES WE GOT UP TO

One of my first memories with regard to games we played is that the sun is shining and about ten of us are standing around in a group. To my relief my name is called and although not first out of the group I am not last. The Captains were picking their sides for the cricket match on the ' Green '. My friend Roger Dawson was on the same side and was a good bowler so I thought we stood a chance of winning.

The Green was a semi-circular area of grass just down the road from our house. It provided us with an area where we gathered and had hours of play. I suppose it was intended to be an aesthetic feature. It was definitely not intended for us kids to have fun on as the run up for bowling generally started from the 'Playing of Games is Strictly Forbidden' sign. The wicket, we only used one, was the Water Stopcock sign adjacent to the pavement. The wicket keeper had to be agile to stop the ball running onto the road behind. One run was from the wicket to a suitably placed article of clothing where you shouted "in". If you wanted two runs you could not shout "in" and had to return from the clothing to the wicket.

Of course only one player was in for batting at any time. There were many disputes as to whether "in" had been shouted before the ball had hit the appropriate wicket or clothing. A four was to the edge of the grassed area, or over the road, in one or more bounces and a six past the edge of grassed area, or over the road, without a bounce. Mainly a six would end up in one of the gardens of the houses around the Green. Anyone who was clever enough to hit a six into the brambles over the road was rewarded by having to retrieve the ball. The competition was fierce but usually fair.

French cricket was also popular. This game involves bowling the ball at the person’s legs, which act as the wicket. If the ball hits the legs the person is out. If the ball is batted away then it has to be bowled from the position it is retrieved from, for example this could be behind or at the side of the batsman and could be very close or a long way away. The batsman can twist his upper body to face the bowler but the legs cannot be moved.

With the darker nights of winter the game on the Green turned to football. We even had our own floodlight in the form of a lamppost that was conveniently on the edge of the pavement just behind the water stopcock sign. Football was great with teams of five or six battling it out between two goals formed from the usual pile of jackets. Disputes in this game were usually whether the ball was in or outside of the imaginary goal posts or crossbar. The crossbar itself seemed to vary in height in direct proportion to the size of the goalie. The thickness of the uprights was dependent on the spread of the pile of jackets. We all had our football heroes and tried to emulate them, Stanley Mathews and Tom Finney being the ones I remember. The biggest danger in the game was avoiding the sign warning us not to play games, which was approximately in the centre of the pitch. We usually played in short trousers and shirt or if we were lucky enough to own a kit in that. After a while I was a proud owner of the Forest strip.

The Captains chose the teams in the same manner as for cricket and they themselves were chosen by common assent either for their football skills or the fact that they could provide a match ball. The football was made of leather and contained a rubber bladder, the slot to insert the bladder and allow inflation had to be carefully laced to maintain the shape of the ball. The ball was religiously cleaned and coat of Dubbin applied at least once a week. Dubbin was grease made of oil and tallow used to soften and waterproof the ball. A wet soggy ball was heavy, difficult to kick and painful to head. We likewise treated our boots, which were also made of leather, and laced up to above the ankle. The smell of Dubbin is unique and I will always associate it with happy days.

Locally and on trips out the popular game of I-Spy was enhanced by the use of the News Chronicle I-Spy books which cost 6d each for the black and white version and 1/- for the colour one. There were a large number of them around, about 20 for the black and white ones and about ten of the colour ones. My favourites were Cars, Birds and Trees.

One of the other popular games played on the Green was tag. Variations on the game include throwing a ball at someone who was making every effort to avoid you. If they were hit they took over and tried to hit someone else and so on. A more energetic version of the game was by handing tag over by making physical contact.

Another and rougher version of Tag was British Bulldog. One of us was selected to play the part of the bulldog. The bulldog stood in the middle of the Green and the rest of us at one end. We would all try to run past the bulldog to the other end of the Green without being tripped or bundled over. If we were caught we became one of the bulldogs and the others would try to race back to the other end of the Green again and so on. The winner was the last one not to be caught.

Roger and I decided that we could communicate between our houses by using a length of string attached to an empty can at each end. We stretched the string taut between the landing windows of our houses and found that to our amazement we could actually talk to each other. We decided to try it from our respective bedrooms with thoughts of conversation after bedtime but found it did not work when the string is pulled round the corners of the houses.

We used to enjoy the walks to school, in particular during the early winter and those days when the snow was on the ground. One of our games on a cold misty morning was to break a length of privet from a hedge, strip off the leaves, bend it to form a loop and then collect the spider webs on them. The end result being a mesh of webs that would glisten and reflect the light from the thousands of tiny droplets of dew attached to them. Of course the days when the snow was on the ground were fantastic. As we lived on a hill we could make some very long slides in the snow to play on, they were so long and wide that at times it was a struggle to get back up to the start. We could never understand why some adults did not appreciate the fact that we had built probably the best slide in Nottingham right outside their front gate. Snowball fights were great, well planned and the ambushes against the girls particularly fearsome.

As the start of the 1956/57 football season began we started to collect the latest set of cigarette cards. We would also play games on the Green with our cigarette cards and would flick then to get nearest the water stopcock sign without touching it. The winner kept all cards flicked, the quantity of which depended on how many took part and the number of attempts allowed. We naturally only used our swaps on these occasions. The’ Famous Footballers’ cards were collected from packets of ‘Barratt’s’ sweet cigarettes which were made to look realistic by having red tips on them. Some weeks we would spend all our pocket money just on them. Although there was supposed to be an equal number of cards distributed it would seem that No 35, Tommy Taylor, had been missed from our area. It was the most sought after card and people would offer, without success, many of their swaps for it. It was months before I completed my set with that card.

I tried tennis at school and pestered Mum and Dad into buying me a racket. It was my pride and joy although I never did get to play very well. I had a few goes at school, which allowed me to miss some of the usual running or workout in the gym. I also used to have a knockabout on the green with some of the other lads. Even one of the less popular lads was allowed to join in, as he was one of the few others that had a tennis racket. My racket was a wooden framed ‘Slazenger’ and to protect it from warping I had to keep it in a press when not using it.

Another popular game near that water stopcock on the Green was that of Marbles. As far as I remember we generally played either a game with a hole in the ground or one where we used to bomb the other players marbles. With the game using the hole we would stand behind a line and each throw a marble to see who was closest to the hole and therefore who would start the game. Each player would have the same number of marbles and the first to go would throw or roll one by one his marbles at the hole. The second player would then do likewise. Of course maybe only one or two would actually get in the hole so in turn the players would then flick their own marbles to the hole. The first with all their marbles in the hole would win all the marbles in play.

Bombing was much simpler with the first player throwing one marble and then the second player tries to hit the others marble. If it misses the first player picks up one of the marbles from the place it landed and then tries again to hit the other one. The one who hits the other marble kept both. I also have vague memories of a rule where if you could span the two marbles with your hand after your throw that counted as a win.

I had five small cube shaped stones about the size of a standard dice which we called Snobs. They were made of clay and each one was a different pastel shade. The idea of the game was to throw them on the floor and throw one up in the air while picking them up one at a time, then two at a time, then three and one. Finally all five were thrown in the air and an attempt was made to catch them on the back of the hand and I recall something about the ones that were not caught were picked up between the fingers and the others thrown up and caught. In the standard game the snobs were caught in the palm of the hand but in the more difficult version they were caught on the ‘fly’ with the palm facing downwards.

As I became older I was allowed make my own way to Wollaton Park and would meet up with my Uncle John who was only a couple of years older than me and liked to be called by his nickname ‘Tats’. Together with my second cousin Graham Barnes we would often go to Wollaton Hall and in the Autumn would collect conkers to play that game. There was a big conker tree in front of the Hall but most of the conkers from the lower level did not last long. The tree usually looked the worse for wear from the hundreds of sticks that have been thrown in it to try and dislodge the conkers. We used to heave sticks as high as we could into the top but without much success. I remember that on one occasion Tats said that he knew a place but I would have to keep lookout. We walked through the stable yard where the Police horses were kept, under the arch and then right along the path at the back of the Hall to come to a fenced area on the right. Tats and Graham nipped over the fence while I keep an apprehensive eye in all directions. We were lucky it was a cold damp day and no one was about. We managed to get a good haul.

Various attempts were made to harden the conker. The most popular was to soak it in vinegar and then bake it. I found that the best method was to save and then use the previous year’s conkers in the new season. It was quite usual when we went conkering to bring home more than a hundred each. A good conker was a prized possession and all your friends, and some that were not, would want to have a go at it. You could have ten to fifteen people gathered around to watch a game involving a couple of conkers with a respectable number of victories each. It was an unwritten law that a challenge was never refused and invariably the day came when you were saddened by the loss of that fifty twoer or similar.

One of the other things that Roger and I used to ‘get up to’ was the tapping out of phone calls. We found that a call could be made by lifting the receiver and tapping the rest the same number of times as the value of digits of the telephone number to be dialled. We of course did not know who we were calling and would just say hello and then put the phone down when we had made a connection. We thought it great fun at the time but due to the tapping not always working for that particular number the likelihood of us getting the same person twice was minimal so we did not particularly think we were disturbing anyone. It was just the fun of the game in making a call without paying. The telephones were the old type that had the A & B push buttons to make a connection and get back any change.

Postscript

For any of you that are rock fans my second cousin Graham Barnes, mentioned above, later changed his name and became Alvin Lee in the group ‘Ten Years After’. He made his millions in the UK and America but I lost touch with him.

[Growing up in Bilborough]

[Growing up in Bilborough]

Great set of postings. Bilbraborn, very interesting memories on the trainspotting, it certainly prompted a few of my own. Firbeck, I seem to remember always taking my ABC book with me, I must have been lucky that it was never lost at the time. LizzieM, thanks for your comments.

Well here goes with my next topic which is fairly long I’m afraid.

TOYS

Such a variety here and I include those homemade ones that gave us as much pleasure to make as to use. Toys over the years included, Cap Guns, Whip and Top, Meccano set, Cats whisker radio, Chemistry set, John Bull printing set, Potato faces, Dinky Toys, Roller skates and as a reached my teens a Raleigh Racing bike and a Diana Air Rifle.

At about five years old and like must kids of the time I was bought a cap gun and used to play Cowboys and Indians. In the earlier days we would get dressed in Cowboy outfits and of course I always wanted to wear the Sheriffs Star. I recall that one of my first cap guns had a star on the grip and I believe because of that Lone Star made it. The chamber and barrel of the gun was released by a small lever and dropped down to reveal a spindle on which the roll of caps was placed and then threaded through to the strike plate before it was closed and locked again. The percussion hammer could be cocked for single shots and then released by the trigger or it could be operated directly by the trigger. It was always much more fun to keep pulling that trigger to get off a flurry of shots at the Indians.

The use of cap guns and rifles seemed to have a longer lasting appeal than most toys and I had a number of them over a few years. When I was older cap bombs replaced the cap guns. These were small cast iron rocket grenade shaped objects that had a plunger in them that struck the inserted cap when thrown on the ground. We would put more than one cap in the holder to make the loudest bang, of course throwing these down behind girls always seemed the most fun. We also tried out spud guns which were alright but did not the explosive power of the cap guns, you also had to carry a potato around with you which was not always convenient.

We would also make our own toys the most common of which was the bow and arrow. We would spend a long time looking for the right branch that could be cut and used to make a bow. The branch snapped from the tree was ideally the same cross section throughout its length and approximately three-quarters of an inch in diameter. It was cut to a length relative to body size, bent and twine attached tautly between the carefully cut notches at each end. The bark was stripped and the wood whittled to form the grip. Patterns were cut into the wood to personalise the bow. The arrows were completely stripped of bark, pointed at one end and notched at the other to take the twine. The flights of the arrow were cut from cardboard and coloured up before being inserted in the split end of the arrow which was then bound with string to stop it splitting any further. They were then left to dry out. The crafting of a bow and arrows could take quite a long time but the effort was worth it. Our proficiency was increased by lots of practice aiming at targets made from bits of cardboard or lino. We would have competitions to see who could shoot the arrow highest, longest or have most hits on the target. We had been warned of aiming at people and this was one piece of advice that for some reason we took notice of.

Another method of propulsion for the arrow was the sling. This was basically a length of string just longer than the arrow that was looped at one end to fit into a notch in the arrow. The string was attached, pulled taut to the arrow head and held between finger and thumb, the arm then propelled the arrow forward and the arrow head was released whilst keeping hold of the string which provided most of the impetus. These arrows had to be particularly stable and many experiments with bird feathers and cut pieces of cardboard were carried out to find the most suitable flight heads. It was amazing what accuracy was achieved.

Whip and tops were another basic toy that gave hours of enjoyment. There were basically two types of tops, a thick conical one with grooves around the head or a mushroom shaped one. The whip, a short piece of pole with string attached to the end, was used to start the top going by wrapping the string around it and giving it a hard flick of the wrist. Continually whipping it kept it spinning. It was quite an art and tops could be made to jump and move around depending on the whipping action. We used to colour the tops with chalks, which would then form various patterns as they spun.

The path leading down to our back door dropped down about four feet making the ground floor level below that of the pavement and the access road running down the side of the house to the blocks of garages. The difference in level was built up in a rockery which was at its steepest opposite the coal shed and back door. I used to spend hours playing in this rockery with my Army Dinky toys. It was ideal for forming mountain paths and ambush points and many a dinky toy was ' blown up ' and sent crashing down the ' mountain ' Fortunately Dinky toys were solidly made and I had a good collection of Scout Cars, Armoured Personnel Carriers, 25-Pounders and Army Trucks. The one that I was desperate to get when it came out was the Centurion Tank. It took quite a long time to save for it but the excitement when we finally went to the shops to buy it made the waiting worthwhile. I cannot remember the exact cost but the sum of 7/6d comes to mind and with pocket money at about 1/- a week it represented quite an outlay.

A fairly simple toy weapon that we put together was the matchstick gun. This was made from a sucker stick, matchbox and elastic bands. The sucker stick was bound vertically to the opening end of the matchbox by a number of elastic bands. An elastic band was then trailed from the front and drawn back with half a matchstick inserted between the sucker stick and the edge of the matchbox. As the pressure was released by gripping the box and pressing the palm on the lower part of the sucker stick the half a matchstick would fly out.

Oh the joys of the Lotts Chemistry Set . The contents included several test tubes, a small retort, and various small containers with chemical compounds in them. The only chemicals I remember were potassium permanganate and iron filings. It was possible to make a stink bomb by combining some of the products.

The "Galley" or catapult was everyone's favourite homemade toy as it was simple and quick to make and could be hidden away quite easily. It was also potentially the most dangerous weapon of the schoolboy arsenal. The galley was cut from a convenient forked branch, whittled and notches cut to take the thick square profiled elastic. The sling to take the stone was cut from oddments of material. We used to aim at anything in site including birds, which fortunately we never hit. Favourite targets were cans lined up on what we called the hump.

The Meccano set gave hours of enjoyment both building from the plans provided or just making up my own designs. It was one of the toys that seemed to last over the years with the continual updating of parts and bits such as a motor.

At some stage, and in common most other lads, I made a soapbox cart with some help from Dad. I have vague memories of searching the woods for any old prams or wheels that had already been thrown away and also asking around the neighbours if they had any that were not wanted. The bigger back wheels of the pram would be used for the rear wheels with smaller ones at the front. The tyres were of solid white rubber and the wheels had many spokes that had to be tightened and sometimes adjusted to get out buckles in the rims.

The basic frame of the cart was constructed out of wood and consisted of four wheels arranged on front and rear axles fixed at right angles to a longitudinal member joining them together. The base for the front axle was loosely bolted through the centre of the longitudinal member so that it would pivot to allow steering by a rope attached at each side or by the feet. The rope also acted as a handy aid to pulling the cart along, which was usually back up the hill. The back timber for the rear axle was generally wider and was fixed solid to the cross member to form a base for the seat. The seat itself was fashioned out of what timber was available. If you were lucky you could get an old timber box, traditionally one used to transport soap or more commonly a plywood chest, for use as the seat and the base for the frame. In my case the seat was just a basic flat square of wood with a bit of carpet tacked to it, it did allow me however to lay flat on my belly on the cart to hurtle off head first using my hands on the front axle to steer. The steel axles were fixed to the timber by a large number of bent over nails.

Mechanical brakes on a cart were virtually non existent although some lads did manage to incorporate the old brakes from the pram or use a piece of timber pivoting on a bolt to lever it against the tyre. This friction method of braking was at the best unreliable and at the worst dangerous as it could cause the cart to swerve violently and overturn. The best method of stopping was using your feet against the rim of the front wheels if you were sat up with legs facing forward or by dragging the shoes on the ground if you were flat on your belly with your legs trailing behind. Not many parents however agreed with this method as it did not do your shoes much good. Other methods of stopping the cart or getting out of danger included crashing in to something, turning uphill or just jumping off. I used to start rolling down the hill around about the front of our house and when reaching the end of the Green, which was fairly level, steer on to it and turn uphill. Sometimes the turn was not well executed and the cart would roll over usually resulting in one or two running repairs. The fact that the end of the journey was on grass probably saved me from serious injury on more than one occasion.

Another way of getting around was on roller skates. These had four wheels on an adjustable metal frame, leather heel and toe holds and a leather strap to tighten to the foot. I was not very good on these and spent a lot of time falling over, which reminds me of another old ointment, Germolene, a pink antiseptic cream with a distinctive smell which had to be applied on numerous occasions to my grazes.

My first bike was a Christmas present and which was I think a Raleigh Lenton Racer that had Sturmey Archer gears and was fitted with Dynamo lighting. An advert at the time advertised the bike for sale at £19-5s-0d with Dynamo lighting an optional extra for £4-8s-9d.

Not really a toy I suppose but I pestered my Mum and Dad for a Diana air rifle and would drive them mad by singing Paul Anka’s song Diana at every possible occasion. My efforts were rewarded and I had great fun setting up an indoor range for shooting air darts at a target attached to a box by the back door. I used to lie down in the dining room with my feet against the wall and shoot the length of the dining room and kitchen at the target. The pellets shot outdoors at targets in the garden were of 1.77 calibre. Once I took the rifle across to the woods and Roger and I shot at some birds that were flying around. We hit one and to see it fluttering around in obvious pain made us feel awful. We swore to never ever hurt an animal again.

Well that it for this session. Happy Memories

[Growing up in Bilborough]

Wollaton Pit sidings from the railway bridge I thinks

[Growing up in Bilborough]

Couple of photo's from when I cannot remember. But they are of areas that I recall so I presume they must be from the 1950's. The first one is of the railway bridge on the Old Coach Road

[Growing up in Bilborough]

_Hi

_{Bilbraborn and Mess, thanks for the comments again. Very interesting about the photo of the new bridge being on the Woodyard Lane. I found this photo on the internet quite a few years ago and it was annotated as being on the Old Coach Road. At the time I remember that I was a bit confused about the house on the right of the photo which I could not remember although as a kid I recall a hedge in that area which I might not have been able to see over. I checked the photo against the previous one of the stone bridge and as the telegraph poles, the trees and the basin all seemed to be the same I assumed that it was the one on the Old Coach Road. This was further reinforced by memory of the changes to that bridge. Perhaps both bridges were altered in the same way which would have been logical. The comments regarding Bernard Chell’s book of Nottingham Canal: A History & Guide are enlightening as I never knew that book existed, it sounds great, I must try and get a copy on Amazon or Ebay.}

_{The bit about the handles on the kitchen doors was something I had not remembered but once it was said it came back to me.}

_{Trevor S regards the path in the second photo. The one on the left led past Wollaton Pit and onwards to the Trowel Road bridge. The path on the top right of the photo is the Old Coach Road, it led over the railway bridge and then a track to the right led through the woods to the fields where if you turned left and walked along the edge of the woods it would take you to Glaisdale Drive opposite No 32.}

_{My next topic is shorter than the others I have posted but it still evokes great memories for me.}

_{THE RAILWAY BRIDGE}

_{Although we used to cross the railway bridge on the Old Coach Road on the way to the canal and notice the lads that were trainspotting it was not until I was about 12 or 13 years old that I took that hobby up.}

_{We became train spotters and duly purchased our book of names and numbers. I used to tick off the trains that I spotted in an Ian Allen ABC train spotters guide for British Rail London Midland Scottish Region. This was bought in 1957 and cost two shillings and six pence.}

_{I remember the distant rumble of the train as it approached. We pressed ourselves against the parapet and strained on our toes to get higher. The thunderous rattle of the wheels on the track hit our ears, the name or number was sighted, the bridge was engulfed in smoke and steam, we rushed to the other side of the bridge and tried to count the carriages, the smell lingered. We checked with each other regarding the number or name of the train and then would cross it off in our book.}

_{There was signal box not far away from the bridge and we soon learnt to listen for the ringing of the bell that would signal a train was on its way. Just after the bell rang the semaphore type train signal would drop from horizontal to inclined to allow the train to pass. A lot of traffic was passenger but there was a fair amount of goods trains. Some of these would be empty for filling with coal at the nearby Wollaton Colliery sidings. Train spotting was short lived although we were very dedicated at the time and collected many numbers and names. You could really impress your friends at school by spotting various names and numbers but as far as I am aware nobody ever dreamt of cheating.}

_{As Katyjay said it is great to see so many postings on this thread and all are read with interest even though I do not so far recognise any names. But having said that we did move to Portsmouth in 1959 when I was 14 years old.}

[Growing up in Bilborough]

The Ugly replacement Bridge

[Growing up in Bilborough]

[Growing up in Bilborough]

Photos of the canal area by the old coach road.

[Growing up in Bilborough]

Hi

Thanks for your comments on my last posting.

Trevor S. I remember also a cold Christmas round about the time you mentioned and also going out with my new Lone Star gun and holster to play, I wonder if we actually shot at each other. Shame about the family argument and missing Christmas dinner. The nearest shops I remember were on the corner of Ambergate and Staverton which were a Newsagent that sold sweets and a Beeroff. The Fish and Chip shop that I remember was I think near the Co-op on Bracebridge Drive.

Sorry Dave 48 I do not remember those lads you mentioned.

Thanks Mess for reminding me of the name of the newsagent and the bit about payment for the newspapers. Nice stories as well. I cannot remember going up Woodyard Lane more than a couple of times it was nearly always the Old Coach Road we used.

Michael S and Bilbraborn thanks for you kind comments and as threatened here is my next topic.

THE CANAL

In the fifties the ' Cut ' or Nottingham Canal was disused but still fairly clean and supported a variety of marine life. More importantly to us it was a whole new adventure. I was about nine years old when Roger and I first made our way through the woods, down the Old Coach Road, over the railway bridge and up to the Canal bridge. As the years progressed it became my favourite place to play.

That first time was on a hot summers day, some lads were jumping into the ' cut ' from the bridge it looked fun but dangerous, we were more interested in trying to catch some sticklebacks or newts. We thought that the ideal place would be the water at the old boat turning point on the lower level. We can see that there is a lot of bulrushes and other growth in the water and believe it to be a good place. We took the tow path just before the bridge and walked about twenty yards to our chosen spot which was close to a small overflow channel formed in concrete. Before dipping our nets we were attracted by the noise of rushing water, which seemed to be coming from the lock gates just a bit further down. The water was pouring through gaps where the gates met and we tried pushing the gates and moving them with a handle that has rusted on to a steel ratchet. Nothing moved so we decided to cross to the other side and dare each other to go first. We were apprehensive as the drop into the lock looked horrendous and was made worst by the grimy stone walls on either side. These walls formed the lock enclosure between the two sets of gates at the upper and lower levels. There would be no escape if we fell in. The first steps were tentative but sure and we crossed without problem. With our new found braveness we dashed back and forth a few times. With the challenge over we returned to our nets but did not catch anything.

The lock gates were of solid timber construction with large beams at the top, which extended over the towpath either side to facilitate the opening and closing of them. The beam forms a walkway across the water with a steel handrail for support. There are two steel bars with ratchets that extend below the water to sluice plates which when raised allow the water to pour through into the lock enclosure at the lower water level. This allows it to be filled to the same level as the upper water. The upper gates can then be opened to allow the canal boats to enter. The upper gates are then closed and the water let out at the lower end. The water level thereby drops in the lock enclosure so that the lower gates can be opened allowing the boat to proceed. Moving upwater is basically a reverse of this procedure.

We explored a long length of the canal over the following years. The furthest point we reached in an easterly direction was the tunnel under Ilkeston Road. This was long and dark and as we stumbled along the towpath, with head bent low aiming for the welcoming pool of light at the other end, icy cold drips from the roof rained down on us. Parts of the canal were inaccessible and shut off as it traversed along Radford Bridge Road to Woodyard Lane where it came into its more rural setting through Bilborough to Trowell and beyond. The furthest we reached in a westerly direction was about two miles past the Trowell Road bridge.

The best stretch as far as I was concerned was the section about half a mile either side of the Old Coach Road bridge where the locks were intact and the area was in virtually open countryside. It was along this stretch that one day I fell in and made a very slow walk home in the hope that the sun would dry my clothes. As I was with my younger sister I did not think that this irresponsible action would be much appreciated by Mum and Dad who may have taken the drastic step of banning me from the canal if they found out. We worked out various excuses for being damp but I was fairly dry when we arrived home and I narrowly managed to avoid just retribution.

The Trowell Road Canal Bridge was another source of adventure as the roof of the tunnel was very low and again we had to bend low to get along the towpath. There was also a large diameter pipe attached to the side of the bridge which, being protected by a steel grill to stop people climbing on it, was an obvious challenge. We of course managed to swing round this grill and with a great sense of achievement cross the pipe to the other side of the canal.

There was a lot of bird life down the canal including many nesting swans which on one occasion scared me silly when I tried to get a closer look at their nest and they came at me with wings flapping, necks raised and hissing loudly.

We also collected frogspawn in jam jars and kept them whilst eagerly awaiting the change into tadpoles, which duly happened, but they always seemed to die or disappear before turning into frogs. The occasional newt and numerous sticklebacks were caught in our nets but we would put these back into the canal. We also tried fishing with a bent safety pin, a length of string and a stick. We would dangle the line in the water with a bit of bread on the bent pin but never caught anything which was probably fortuitous as we would not have had a clue what to do next.

Bullrushes growing in some marshy areas next to the canal were pulled up and used as spears or swords or generally bash each other with. Needless to say they were quickly destroyed.

Lengths of the canal were constructed between stone walls but many sections had natural banks or may have become this way as the original restraints disappeared. The water was generally clear and varied in depth from between two and six feet deep. The dirtiest areas were in the locks where all sorts of rubbish had been deposited.

I remember that it was with some dismay that on one trip to the Canal we found that workman had demolished part of the old stone bridge and replaced it with a new steel structure spanning the canal and forming the Old Coach Road over it. Even as kids it looked ugly to us.

The canal also ran alongside the Wollaton Colliery and the ' Slag Heap'. When times were hard, and before Dad started at Gedling Pit, we used to scout the slag heap looking for coal to stoke the fire at home. The top of the slag heap was particularly dangerous as it formed a steep slippery slope of grey greasy mud dropping into a rumoured deep quagmire of thick silted water. It was not a place to have fun on.

One evening whilst exploring the hedgerows and fences by the canal bridge we came across a gap and found ourselves in the compound at the back of the Raleigh Sports Club. Amongst all the crates of empty beer bottles we found a used Schweppes soda siphon which we naively thought we could fill with water and spray people with. Of course we could not as a cartridge of compressed carbon dioxide was required. But to our joy we found that there was sixpence refund on it at the ‘Beeroff’. We never felt guilty about taking it to spray water with but as soon as we had the money from the refund we certainly did. We also felt sick after eating the evidence as the money went on Barratt’s sweet cigarettes.

Not so many years ago the family visited Nottingham and I took them to Bilborough to show them my old childhood haunts. It was interesting but quite devastating to see what was left of the canal, just a few stones. What lovely memories flooded back though.

[Growing up in Bilborough]

I have been trying to upload an image though photobucket as a first time user so I hope this one of the glaisdale environs works

[Growing up in Bilborough]

Hi

Thanks for your postings and your positive attitude to my ramblings. Thanks Katyjay for putting me right on Beecham powders, they were for cold symptoms and not for upset stomachs as I said, the Beecham Pills acted in much the same way as Carters Little Liver Pills. Bilbraborn I do remember Cod Liver Oil which was dreadful on its own but mainly we had it mixed with the malt which made it a bit more palatable. Thanks Cliff Ton for the interesting map which as you say must have been from the early fifties or even the late forties.

I think it is great to record and share childhood memories especially as a legacy for future generations of the family. As previously stated I have recorded mine and to do that I spent many happy hours talking to my Mum and Dad in the latter days of their lives to confirm some of my memories and be reminded of other antics. By doing this I also found out so much more about their lives.

I have lots of memories to share and I hope that it also brings back memories of happy times in Bilborough to others who lived there in the early days. To do this I thought that I would make a posting about once a week on various topics. The first I have already covered is the medicines that I remember. The list I propose is, The Woods and Fields, Canal, Railway Bridge, Toys, Games we played, Radio programmes, Television, Goose Fair, Bonfire Night, Christmas, Collecting, Sport and finally Further afield.

I have found that mentioning something sometimes prompts a reply that in itself brings back forgotten memories. That’s my aim.

WOODS AND FIELDS

My first memories of the woods and fields start from about four or five years old although I am sure that many are not true memories but really of stories told by my Mum and Dad. We moved to 36 Saltburn Avenue in 1947 and a couple of years later I have vague recollections of walking with my Dad to the area of the fields at the bottom of Glaisdale drive to dig up grass sods and take them back home in a wheelbarrow to make a front lawn. At that time the Gypsies used to park their caravans at the lower end of the fields next to Wigman Road perhaps that was why the grass seemed lusher down there, fertilised by the horse dung.

I also recall stories of the bogey man living in the woods up the hill on Glaisdale Drive. I have no idea who perpetrated this tale or why, it may have been adults who were trying to keep children near to home especially as the nights were drawing in and the fog was around or it may have been older children with a bit of verbal bullying. However, I never did stray further afield than the lower end of Glaisdale Drive, until that is we moved there in the summer of 1950.

I cannot remember specifically the early days at Glaisdale Drive, all I know is that the setting was ideal for a child and that they were truly happy days. I did not see the bogeyman and that story had lost any impact by then anyway.

As you went up the hill on Glaisdale Drive the left-hand side was basically fields except for a Heinz 57 building near Wigman Road and a small lace factory situated about half way up. The fields became a wood almost directly opposite our house.

When I was fairly young most of the time spent playing was on the green but as I grew older, from about 8 years, my attention gradually turned to the woods and fields. I was of course warned not to stray too far but my friend, Roger Dawson, and I did not really understand the meaning of too far.

The woods were an endless source of enjoyment and adventure. We gradually extended our horizons as we became older and came to know all the tracks, streams and dens. The wildlife became recognisable and we learnt what delights nature could provide us. Some grasses were sweet to chew, raspberries, blackberries, elderberries and blueberries were in abundance, we recognised the poisonous berries. Dock leaves always grew by nettles and relieved the stinging. Some of the small springs yielded cold refreshing water even on the hottest day and sticky buds all over your clothes was a great way to annoy your parents. Although we spent many hours away from the home this did not particularly worry our parents as there were no fears about child molesters or anything like that.

Roger and I decided to call ourselves "the outlaws" and that the corner of the woods opposite our houses will be our territory. To protect this area we decided to have a den. We decided not to tunnel into the ground as we had heard that some other underground dens in the woods at the top of the hill had collapsed and one boy was nearly buried alive. We spend days scanning the woods for suitable fallen branches. We found a couple of old dens, which provide us with bits of lino, an old curtain and more timber, we were ecstatic at our good luck. The location of the proposed den was through some thick bushes and near one of the taller trees, which we thought we would use as a lookout. The larger branches were used to form a structure almost inside a large bush, the smaller branches used to support the ferns and bits of lino that made up the roof. We used our penknives to trim the bush to form an entrance that was concealed by ferns and the old curtain. Our John Bull sets were put to work to print warning notes emblazoned with skull and crossbones and conveying the message "Beware Property of the Outlaws Keep Out", these are displayed in the den. We set traps by digging small holes and covering them with ferns. Catapults and Bows and Arrows were made to defend our territory. After about a week the den was wrecked by someone and we never did manage to climb that lookout tree although we did try on a number of occasions.

Just at the corner of the woods and the field there was a mound of grass covered earth which we called the hump. It was in an elevated position about four feet above the surrounding terrain and was approximately fifteen feet in diameter. It was irregular in shape with a small hollow in the top surrounded by long grass where you could hide. It was I presume at some time a pile of rubbish or excavated material. It formed a perfect place to sit and talk whilst generally overlooking what was going on around. We used to sit there and plan all sort of escapades, discuss the latest football matches, swap cigarette cards and generally enjoy ourselves.

On the hotter summer days there was the occasional fire in the woods and the bracken would blaze across large areas. Lots of the kids would break off branches and spend ages trying to stop the fire spreading. On the odd occasion the fire brigade were called but generally we managed to put it out ourselves, after all they were ‘our’ woods.

Another place where we liked to sit was on the tree stump in the middle of the fields it was from here that we watched the bigger boys aged about fifteen play football. The stump was by an area that was quite level and well worn in as an improvised football pitch. The stump was about three feet in diameter and approximately the same distance off the ground. The surface was level as the tree had obviously been expertly felled with chain saws. While watching the bigger lads play we managed to vastly improve our vocabulary of profanities and was amazed at some of the stories with particular reference to girls. We still thought girls were there solely for tormenting.

One day on the way to the railway bridge we came across one of the underground dens in the top part of the woods. As no one was about we decided to have a look inside. It was dark and confined, the tunnel was in a hollow pointing towards the surrounding high ground and dropped down at about thirty degrees for a distance I suppose of about six feet. At the end of the tunnel it opened out into a cave in which three people could just about squeeze into and sit upright. A new tunnel had been started from this area but there was no way that I would attempt to go any further or stay any longer as memories of the stories of these dens collapsing came back.

In one part of the woods there was a small stream which was in a hollow shaded by trees and it was here that some of the older lads took their girlfriends for a bit of ‘snogging’. We would creep up on them through the bracken, give them a wolf whistle and then run like mad so they would not catch us. Roger and I thought it great fun but judging by the remarks shouted at us I somehow don’t think the older lads did.

One day we were confused and angry as while Roger and I were sitting on the 'Hump' contemplating life which, now included girls and pop music a gang of men park their lorry on the verge and start to put up fencing across the fields down to and over the makeshift football pitch. A bulldozer arrived and we watch in horror as it works across the fields and removes the 'Stump' and other obstacles.

We found out later that SPD were going to build a cold storage warehouse on our fields. There was a growth of unrivalled anger and camaraderie between all of us that loved those fields and various plans were hatched to show our disapproval. In the weeks during construction excavations were mysteriously filled in, fences fell down and brickwork collapsed. All was to no avail and in months the building was complete and our domain scarred forever. Rumours flew around about more building to come. We considered ourselves lucky that we had the woods and fields for a large part of our childhood. However, we never did get to play football with the big lads on the pitch. It was ironical that the place we hated so much when it was being built provided Dad a job and the family the odd frozen chicken that escaped its cold confine.

As I grew older the woods became a place where we would look for bird nests to carry out one of our collecting phases, that of birds eggs. which of course in those days seemed perfectly acceptable and was encouraged by such books as the Observers Book Of Birds Eggs.

We moved to Portsmouth in 1959 which at least spared me the horror of the industrialisation of the woods and fields.

[Growing up in Bilborough]

Hi

Pleased to see your postings. The link to the aerial photo of Bilborough was very interesting and I will at a later date try and upload part of a 1954 map of the area showing the woods, canal and railway line which are the areas that I spent most of my time. I remember well the sand tunnels but not the death track. It is a great shame that there seems to be a lack of photographs of those environs that we used to play in.

I must admit that the list of occupants on Glaisdale Drive was not all my work as it was done with the help of some old childhood friends that I manage to contact, these include David Lever, Roger Dawson and Margaret Keatley does anyone remember them.

I went to Glaisdale Secondary later to be known as Glaisdale Bilateral and some of the teachers I recall from there are Mr Viles Woodwork, Mr Wrathal Metalwork, Mr Blenkinsopp PE, Miss Illes English,Mrs Maltby Domestic Studies and of course Mr Unwin the Headmaster. Some of the pupils I recall are Michael Eley, Tony Isaacs, Roger Cook, Denise Jones, Karen Killoran and Anne Clarke.

I have many memories of my days in Nottingham and it is difficult to know where to start. Perhaps somewhat weirdly I shall start with smell. The three overwhelming smells I remember are Dubbin used for football boots, steam from the trains passing under the railway bridge on the Old Coach Road and the most unpleasant one of rotten Fray Bentos corned beef when I punctured an old WW2 tin whilst digging in the fields opposite our house.

The mention of Dr Griffen on previous posts also brings back memories of the various treatments for ailments. It seemed that the most common one used by my Mum and Dad was Mindadex which although green in colour did actually taste quite strongly of oranges and was used as a tonic.

Some of the medication that we also had apart from Minadex was Virol, a concoction of malt and cod liver oil which was used to boost our defences, liquid paraffin which was rubbed in for all sorts of aches and pains or in some cases drank as a laxative, kaolin poultice which was heated up in a tin and then liberally spread on a bandage before being applied as a poultice to draw out boils and carbuncles. A suspension of kaolin and morphine was used to stop the dreaded runs. Butter was used to rub on any bumps or bruises. Bicarbonate of Soda was given in warm water to relieve stomach ache or indigestion or if we had it in the house a dose of Andrews Liver Salts. Iodine was applied to wounds to disinfect them and left a nasty brown stain. Beechams Powders which came in little grease proof paper packets that were carefully opened to pour the powder into a glass of water were used for upset stomachs, Carters Liver Pills that were very small and brown coloured and tasted vile if you were stupid enough to bite one, needless to say I did it once. A pink coloured Calamine lotion was rubbed on the skin for sunburn and measles. Vicks camphor oil was rubbed onto our chest to treat or ward of colds. The above seemed to encompass the whole of the care process.

Well I think that is enough for now, I hope that my memories prompt some ones of your own. I look forward to reading more postings on Bilborough. I have also written down my childhood memories so I have lots more to come if you don’t get bored with my ramblings.

[Growing up in Bilborough]

_{Hi Everyone.}

_{Have many happy memories of Bilborough. We lived on Glaisdale Drive until 1959 and I spent many hours playing in the woods and the fields. I remember amongst other things the make do football pitch with the stree stump at one end. This was in the fields before getting to the woods when walking up from Wigman Road. Does any one have any photos of the fields and the woods before the Birds eye factory was built. I knew the Allisions and below is a list of occupants as far as I have been able to put together. Look forward to hearing from anyone.}

_{RESIDENTS ON GLAISDALE DRIVE WHEN WE LEFT IN 1959}

_{From the bottom of Glaisdale Drive at the junction of Wigman Road to the end of the two storey houses near the Old Coach Road}

_{2 Michael Eley}

_{4 Sandra Dexter,}

_{6 Alan Scothern (Golly)}

_{8 Linda Adams,}

_{10 Robert? Marshall,}

_{12 John and Arthur Booker (twins),}

_{14 Philip Day plus older sister,}

_{16 Angela Johannsen,}

_{18 Robin Nunley with sister Judith,}

_{20 John and older sister Whitehursts (first round the Green)}

_{22 David Brooks,}

_{24 Keith Tatton,}

_{26 Geoffrey and John Allison,}

_{28 Mr & Mrs Warsop (The chap that died young)}

_{30 June Lowe, (last round the Green)}

_{32 Max, Madeleine Jennison,}

_{34 Alan Linda Peggy and Vic Spree.}

_{36 Roger, Janet, Fran and Jerry Dawson}

_{38 Brothertons}

_{40 Margaret Leverton,}

_{42 Sid, John and Linda Loweth,}

_{44 Platts
46 Ken, Bill, Shirley, Chris, Barry, John, Peter Wealthalls}

_{48 Geoffrey and Linda Clarke,}

_{50 Alan Patty,}

_{52 Ken Hancox,}

_{54 Madeleine, Janet, Pauline and Geraldine Stretton,}

_{56 Tony Elliot,}

_{58 Hughie Burns,}

_{60
62 Derek, Janet & Roger (Knocker) Smith.}

₆₄

_{66 Margaret Keatley}

_{68 Nigel Lees}

_{70 Carol Gooding}

_{72 Peter Chamberlain and 2 younger sisters}

_{74 Margaret, Ann and John Crawley}