Recommended Posts

97, Dunstan Street, Netherfield, Nottingham, the place of my childhood. Living at 95 were the 'Hooper's' and at 99 the 'Williams's'. This was a council house, one of two separated blocks of 4 on that street which consisted of terraced houses, in blocks of 20 or more. The street lighting, initially, consisted of gas lamps giving out an eerie yellow light. Every other one had a cycle tyre hanging over it, being used by children as giant hoopla's.

Netherfield was a railway and mining community. At what was called the bottom end of Netherfield was the largest railway marshalling yard in the country, with steam engine repair sheds. Walking by those sheds you could feel the great heat of the coal fired burners as the steam engines were 'fired up' and in different stages of repair. There were long rows of railway owned terraced houses with names like 'London Northwest Terrace'. The one peculiar thing about some of them was that they only had a back door, no front!

The collieries were at Gedling and Calverton and they too had houses belonging to them, but they were new estates. The houses being 'semi-detached' with hot water piped to them, for the miners' baths. The Gedling estate was known locally as 'concrete canyon', for most were made of pre-fabricated concrete with clay tiled roofs.

Each house, in the community, had its' own coal fire and in winter we suffered from terrible 'smog' conditions (smog was coal smoke combined with fog). It was a common sight to see large flat backed lorries stacked high with bags of coal and dirty faced men running up and down with 1cwt bags on their backs. (Large lumps of coal were cheaper to buy than cobbles and I enjoyed many a time in the coal house getting black as I wielded an axe, chopping the coal up).

It is hard to recall early childhood and it may well be that I have got a few things mixed up on the time scale. I remember we had a television by my 4th birthday, because 'Muffin the Mule' was a BBC children's programme and I had the puppet for my birthday. We were one of the first on the street to have a television but were left behind when Independent Television (I.T.V.) came along. I used to go down the street to Brian Simpson's to watch 'Just William' and 'Superman', of course it was all in black and white.

At some time around my fifth birthday (1953) I started school at the Ashwell Street Infants School and my first teacher was a Mrs Marriott. I was taken to school on the first day, but after that refused to be taken again, I was grown up and could go on my own. A far cry from today, in those days you were safe from both the traffic and crime.

Primary School always had a Christmas party and the children had to bring foodstuff from home. Mum had a 'rabbit' mould and I always took a blancmange or jelly rabbit.

You were rich if your family had a car and I can't remember anyone on the street having one at that time.

The only telephone belonged to Mr and Mrs Jackson (he was a Pastor/Vicar) and the nearest telephone kiosk was 1/2 mile away, so the Jacksons got some use in emergencies.

My friends were both next door neighbours, Michael Hooper (four years older) and David 'Willie' Williams (two years younger). The block of 4 houses were split by a large fence between 97 & 99. Entry to 97 was via 95 and entry to 99 was via 101.

Monday was always washday and coming home from school you had to fight your way through lines of washing hanging in the backyards. No such things as automatic washers in those days. The washing was done with a scrubbing board, a dolly tub and ponch with plenty of soap, it was a full days job. To explain, the scrubbing board was a corrugated metal plate with wooden surround that heavily soiled washing was rubbed up and down on. The dolly tub was a corrugated metal tub filled with hot water and the 'ponch' was a copper inverted bowl with holes in it and a wooden stave with 'cross bar' handles, which was sloshed up and down in the dolly tub to move the clothing in the tub, 20 up and down, a rest, another 20 up and down and so on. As I have said, ‘a full days work’.

Primary school was from 9.00am till 3.30pm with a break from 12 midday till 1.30pm, to return home for dinner. As with all other households, meals went with the wages, starting off good and then tailing off towards the weekly Friday pay-day. We always had plenty to eat, but is was a roast on Sunday with 'breast of lamb' on a Wednesday. Breast of lamb was something the butcher almost gave away, but I always used like it, especially when it was crunchy.

Shopping was done at 'Cyril Stringers', the corner shop on Curzon Street. There was no such thing as Supermarkets, although there were the larger shops such as the Co-op, each giving individual attention, you were a thief if you helped yourself. Shopping at 'Cyrils' was done on the tick, you had a little red book, Cyril had the large master copy. Things were purchased and entered in the little red book, to be paid for and marked off on pay-day.

There was a shop at the corner of Dunstan Street and Asper Street, it was run down and lived in by 'Old Mother Lacey', who all the children thought was a witch. When she died we found an old World War 2 gas mask in the yard and would run around the street wearing it. Two doors away was 'Baldwin's' or 'Bollis' shop that sold knitting materials but it was really a front for illegal bookmaking and money-lending. They were deemed to be rich people!

Electric and gas were paid for with 1d meters (240 pennies to the pound in those days) and collection day was always something looked forward to. The meter man would come along with his big black leather bag, empty the meter and count the pennies out on the kitchen table. By virtue of everything being metered, you were always in credit somehow and there was certain to be a refund. You rarely saw new coins so what we used to do as soon as we got the pennies was to go outside and with the edge of the coin rub it up and down the house bricks and with the dust collected on the coin rub it hard, this produced bright gleaming coins and dirty hands. Looking closely at the houses today I would like to bet those marks are still there.

The council houses all had bathrooms but the terraced houses only had the old tin baths. Hot water however, was produced from back boilers in the coal fires. We also had a new thing called an 'immersion heater' that did it from a switch on the wall and used electricity. Once Dad saw how fast the meter moved when it was switched on, it was used very sparingly, except when he was out. You had a bath on a Friday night whether you needed it or not and it was normal to follow through with the water. Dad first, because he could stand it the hottest, Mum second and all the kids next.

Oh how I longed for an inside toilet, the house was relatively modern but the toilet was still outside, although forming part of the house. I had to go out the backdoor turn to the right and right again, through the toilet door. There was no heating and just a single light bulb above the door. It was cold, draughty and not a place you stopped in long. The houses that we backed onto had their toilet at the bottom of the garden with no light. Going to the toilet in the middle of the night, especially for a number 2 was unheard of. A bucket was used during the night, although on more than one occasion I got into trouble for using the bath!. The hardest thing, in my life, was the toilet paper. It was ‘Izal’ or nothing, this paper was like tracing paper, hard and shiny with a smell of disinfectant. Easy to see through and put your finger through!!!! It did nothing for absorption or piles and spread things round a bit, so lots of paper was used. Learning to read at school helped these little excursions as the Daily or Sunday Newspaper was quite often put to good use. However you could only read the small articles as the larger ones were disjointed.

A once a month visitor to the street was the rag and bone man with his horse and cart. In exchange for old rags etc. he used to give goldfish or balloons. The fish were in an old tin bath on the cart and it was an event to peer over and look at them. A quick scout round the house always provided enough to secure a fish, but they never lasted long. Kept in a goldfish bowl, these fish were often diseased and combined with a lack of knowledge and overfeeding they were lucky to last a month. A knife sharpener used to appear now and again, riding an adapted pedal cycle carrying a revolving grind stone and water bath.

Another regular to the street was 'Charlie', the milkman. He operated a hand held Co-op Dairy electric cart that pulled/guided from Sneinton about 6 miles away. He wore a dirty brown smock and smelled strongly of sour milk, but he was a cheery sort and a source of pocket money. If I was up at 8.30am, to greet him on a Saturday morning, I was able to help him with the rest of his round, running from door to door to the bottom of Netherfield. I was paid 6d for about 2 hours work and it was money well earned.

Bread was also delivered and if no-one was at home it was left on the doorstep. If unsliced it was left with a sheet of greaseproof paper to rest on. Because the street was mainly terraced houses with the front door directly onto the pavement, it was not unknown for a dog to cock its leg up on the bread as it went by!

When calling for your friends to come out to play, it was never heard of to knock. There always used to be a chorus of name shouting at the back door. If Bill Hooper was in, a reply of, "Bogger off" bellowed out.

A slaughterhouse was near the Midland Railway Station and it was not unusual for a bullock to escape now and then and go on the rampage down Chandos Street. I mention the slaughterhouse because I well remember going and asking for pigs bladders. Washed in the sink, without Mum knowing, they were tied and blown up with a bicycle pump and used as a football. A bit erratic when kicked, but a lot cheaper than the real thing. There was only leather footballs to be bought from the shops.

I used to stand in awe as Dad wet shaved with his old army razor and used to run when he cut himself to ribbons with what he thought was a new blade. He knew that I had once more been sharpening my crayons with it and then put it back. I couldn't understand why it did this, because hair was softer than wood.

Children's games were played on the street, a thing you never see nowadays. Hopscotch was a favourite for boys and girls, the paving slabs providing the necessary squares. Snobs and marbles were strictly for the lads. Snobs was a game with 5 small hand held wooden bricks that were tossed and caught in various combinations. Every little indentation in the yard or footpath provided the hole for marbles. A regular game of darts against the telegraph pole finished when I ended up with a dart in my left knee. Dad pulled it out and poured on the wound the medicine for everything T.C.P. This antiseptic was not only used for grazes, I also had to take it by the spoonful, laced with sugar, when we had colds. Another one of Dad's remedies was 'Life Drops', a herbal remedy from Walkers on Victoria Road. It was made from eldermint and burned your mouth out. (This medicine ceased at sometime in the 60's but now has re-emerged on the shelves at 'Boots the Chemist'. It still tastes the same, yuk!!) Any grazes, sprains, suspect broken bones etc. were referred to Mr. Glover. He lived in the other set of council houses and was a St. Johns Ambulance man. Everyone had great faith in him and he was always first call, before the doctor. A bandage or a sling did the trick to heal little wounded warriors.

Victoria Road was the main road through Netherfield and contained all the shops. Higginbottams was a large butchers shop and next to it was a little chip shop. Standing in the queue, waiting for chips, I can remember the man behind the counter spitting into the fryer, if his spit fizzled, the fat was hot enough to fry!!!. The chips came in grease proof paper, wrapped in old newspaper, not only did you have something to eat, you could also have a good read. There was also a ‘chip shop’ on Dunstan Street, ‘Jammos’. He did the same hot fat test and if you didn’t buy a fish you couldn’t have any chips.

Whilst still at Ashwell Street Junior School I remember going to Higginbottams for a basin of hot faggots for tea. Running home with the hot pyrex basin I fell, the glass broke and a large sliver of glass went into my left hand. Mr Glover was the first to be called followed by a visit to Dr. Chisholm, the doctor on Chandos Street. He stitched the wound and gave me a tube of smarties for not crying. I was mad and complaining bitterly about the bowl breaking, I had read that it was oven proof and I thought that meant break proof!

Three large recreation grounds were within easy reach but like all children we were attracted by danger. The nearest was 'Old Rec.' on Curzon Street, which had a large area of tarmac, a grass field and stream that eventually flowed to the River Trent. The stream, we called the 'Ditch', started at Lambley, close to the colliery and was filthy, there were never any fish in it, only rats. However, during long play periods we used to drink from it, God knows how I'm still here, one of the older lads had shown us how to drink pure water. I don't know why, but there were always eggs shells about and he said that if you scooped the water out with the egg shell and it looked clear, you could drink it. The 'New Rec' was halfway up Dunstan Street, but the kids from the top used that. And then there was the 'Cricket Field' on Burton Road

The main attraction was water and close to Netherfield is the River Trent and what was then numerous gravel pits (long since filled in). Before any of us could swim we would be in the gravel pits on rafts made of oil drums tied together. On learning to swim, it would then be the Trent. A fast flowing river with treacherous undercurrents, this was a river that had killed, yet we had no fear. The next attraction was the Nottingham to Lincoln railway line that carried both goods and express trains. Although there were the tales that you could get sucked under if you stood too close to the train as it went by, the game was to place a halfpenny on the line and as a train went over it, it was squashed to the size of a penny. The real danger came when walking along the lines looking for the coins. In the woods at Colwick there were cliff sides where ropes swings were made so that you could swing out like Tarzan, above the railway line and trains. A frightful thought to me now, but what good fun then, especially when you swung through the thick engine smoke. On a more lighter note, one of the things we did was stand on a railway footbridge and wait for a steam engine to come along. At a signal we all then tried to 'pee' on the driver. The drivers got to know of this and as they went under the bridge so they pulled the whistle and let off jets of steam. If 'caught short' whilst out playing we all knew the strength of a dock leaf. Not only could you give a good wipe with it, it also remedied any nettle sting you might incur.

Mum and Dad disliked dogs and cats, so apart from the odd elephant and lion, I was restricted as to the pets I could have. These were invariably mice, or a tortoise, which were kept in an asbestos shed on the garden. Thinking how cold the mice would be, one night I smuggled them into the outside toilet and left them in a box behind the seat. Sometime later a shrill scream hit the air as Mum nearly sat on one that had escaped. The end of mice for a while!! Another tale about the throne room is that when Dad was decorating, if it didn't move it got painted, as did the toilet seat, but he forgot to tell anyone. The drying process nearly complete, Mum sat on it, you can guess the rest.

Netherfield had a number of places of worship, St. George's C. of E., Wesleyan, Methodist and one or two others. During the year I swopped from one to another, all children were given a book on prize giving day and I was intent on a library.

I was a member of the ‘Cubs’ at St George’s and think it was called the 1st Netherfield pack. The Vicar was father Gibson and the Cub pack run by Miss Groves, who was also a teacher at Ashwell Street.

We had a television in the early days but I can remember going to Brian Simpsons and watching 'Superman' in black and white, on the new ITV Channel. Independent Television was something new and not everybody had a television that could receive it. The pubs shut at 10'oclock so the family, even the community, went to bed a lot earlier than today.

Dad worked at the Ilkeston Hosiery Finishing Co., Marr Hill, Carlton and I can remember it being a real sweat shop, full of steam and large machinery. He was paid piece work and stripped to the waist, he would be pulling nylon stockings on to flat 'leg shaped' boards, which would then go into a steam oven. The faster he worked, the more pay he got. (Some years later due to cheap imports and the introduction of panti-hose this industry eventually declined and Dad was made redundant).

Remaining at Ashwell Street, through the Junior School, I passed the 11 plus examination. A choice of schools was given. Listing the schools, starting with Newark Magnus, because it had a grand sounding name and included a train journey, it was to no avail because I was sent to an unlisted one, Arnold County High School and from there, at the age of 13, to the Ruchcliffe Boys Technical Grammar School, Boundary Road, West Bridgford, Nottingham.

This school was new and boys were sent from as far as Mansfield, to make the numbers up. I had two options of how to travel to school, it was either catching two buses or a train and a bus. We all chose the train because, not only was it more exciting, you could have a smoke and no-one would know. In my whole school career I never played truant. It wasn't a case of being good, more a case of there was nothing else to do if you did play truant.

My hobby was fishing. We fished as Colwick gravel pits and the River Trent, including Radcliffe Weir. I can remember going on the train to Radcliffe and then walking along footpaths to the Trent. Part of the way was walking by a 'fenced' orchard where the 'landing net' came in handy and we were never short of apples. My uncle,,Tony once caught a 4lb Chub that died in the keep net. He took it home and Mum fried it, just as you would cod. It tasted horrible, just like mud pie. Tony was 9 years older and would try and sneak out early, to go fishing without me, but I always heard him mutter, 'little brat' when he saw me behind him. Which brings to mind that he once took me along when he went with his girlfriend, to the fields at Stoke Bardolph. I was sent mushrooming while they played under a large towel. I could see them romping about but of course didn't know, at that time, what they were up to.!!!!.

Nothing sparkling happened at school other than gaining 5 O'levels, much to the amazement of my teachers. With my end of school report and qualifications, the world was mine, or so I thought! Dad took one look at the school report and tore pages out. He said with a report like that, I wouldn't get a job anywhere. I didn't think it was that bad, the trouble was the teachers comments inferred almost that I had gained someone else's results.

Dad got me my first job with a hosiery firm on Alfred Street South, Nottingham. I didn't like it and thought I deserved a better position in the factory. I told the manager as much and rather than offer me a directorship he gave me my cards, that was a shock!!.

In between time I borrowed £25 from Dad to buy a motor cycle. I earned £3.6.8d a week, including Saturday mornings, and was going to pay him back???. The motor cycle was a B.S.A 250cc, C.11.G, solo and petrol, if my memory serves me right was 4s 7d (22p) a gallon including a shot of 'Red X'.

Teamed up with Frank Rowley, we went everywhere together, he had a B.S.A 250cc C.12 with swinging arm suspension, snob!. Mods and Rockers were just emerging, and I didn't really know what we were because Frank insisted riding a motorbike with mod clothes.

The bane of youth in Netherfield was Police Sergeant Jack Else, in fact I think he was the bane of Netherfield. He used to drive around in a police van with his pet Corgi dog inside. He had a freebie at every shop, meat for the dog and sweets for him. We used to park our motorcycles outside the chip shop on Forester Street and lean against the window eating chips. Sure enough along he would come and move us along, forcibly sometimes with the impromptu use of his stomach. The Royal Oak pub on Burton Road, Carlton was the ‘in place for youth’ i.e. under 18, and Jack Else knew it. We would be sat around a table, about six of us, in the back room when the shout would come that Else was at the front door. No time to take the beer with us, we left it on the table and went out through the window into the back garden. It became somewhat of a ritual, in would come the Sergeant and drink all our beer.

I cannot remember the incident but Mum relates the story that I was the cause of the move to 10, Westcliffe Avenue, Gedling. I came home one day and said that I couldn't bring any friends home because I was sick of treading in 'dog sh1t' on the pavement of Dunstan Street.

  • Like 2
Link to post
Share on other sites
  • Replies 167
  • Created
  • Last Reply

Top Posters In This Topic

Top Posters In This Topic

Popular Posts

Strange co-incidence ,  whilst having a coffee in our local Wetherspoons 2 days ago , got talking to a couple we have known by sight for many years , . They were customers in our old shop and since re

Just found your site and I’m posting on behalf of my mother who lived at 1 Asper Street, corner of Dunstan Road. In your posting you refer to Old Mother Lacey who kids believed was a witch. She was my

97, Dunstan Street, Netherfield, Nottingham, the place of my childhood. Living at 95 were the 'Hooper's' and at 99 the 'Williams's'. This was a council house, one of two separated blocks of 4 on that

Good post...and I'll match it when I have time.:tongue: My family was more middle class(but not posh) but childhood memories are always interesting.Muffin the Mule was part of a programme called Whirligig,and included Steve Race at the piano and other regulars...Muffins mate was Peregrine the Penguin,another stringed puppet.I can detail incredible amounts of memories from an early age,but my Brother can't remember a damn thing if I try to talk to him about early years....Chat later....

Link to post
Share on other sites

I thought muffin the mule was some deviant sex act! as already said good post and some memories brought back, I wonder what today's kids/teenagers will have to recall in the future?

"My Mam was on the social...didn't 'ave a Dad...can't remember 'owt was always pissed or spaced out weren't I...we 'ad a trampoline though...didn't do skool...gotta go now,gotta see me dealer."

Link to post
Share on other sites

I never lived in or near Netherfield but for a short time worked for 'Castle Engineering' which had a factory there. The main factory as far as I remember was off Castle Blvd.

Link to post
Share on other sites

Great post, and coming from Carlton, I can relate to most of it!!

Believe it or not we used the same Doctors. Chisholm, Alexander and Buck!!

Link to post
Share on other sites

GREAT POST DAVE. BROUGHT BACK MANY MEMORIES FOR ME TOO.DID YOU NEVER PLAY ON JACKIE BELLS FIELD. DID YOU GET YOUR MICE FROM DAVE CANT ALWAYS HAD SO MANY HIS DAD WAS ALWAYS THRETENING TO DROWNED THEM SO HE SOLD THEM TO OTHER KIDS VERY CHEAP HAD A FEW OFF HIM FROM TIME TO TIME.SARGENT ELKES WAS A PAIN ALL WRIGHT KNEW MY FAMILY QUITE WELL AS MY YOUNGER BROTHER WAS ALWAYS IN SOME KIND OF TROUBLE. WHEN MY ELDEST SISTER GOT MARRIED AT ST GEORGES CHURCH FATHER GIBSON WAS VERY LATE GETTING TO THE CHURCH AS HE FORGOT HE HAD A WEDDING AND WAS ON MAPERLEY GOLF COURSE AND HAD TO BE FETCH TO CONDUCT THE WEDDINGIT WAS A VERY HOT JUNE DAY AND BY THE TIME HE GOT THEREI THINK THE WHOLE OF NETHERFIELD WERE ROUND THE CHURCH BECAUSE WORD HAD GONE ROUND THAT THE GROOM HAD JILTED HER MR BRIGHTMAN WHO DID THE WEDDING CARS MUST HAVE DRIVEN ROUND NETHERFIELD 30 TIMES BEFORE HE GOT TO THE CHURCH THE POLICE HAD BEEN CALLED BECAUSE VICTORIA RD WAS GRIDLOCKED BOTH WAYS WITH PEOPLE AND CARS ELKES CAME TO FIND OUT THE CAUSE AND SAID MIGHT HAVE KNOWN IT WAS YOUR FAMILY DID NOT STOP HIM FROM COMMING TO THE RECEPTION FOR A DRINK AND SOMETHING TO EAT AFTER THOUGH.

FRANK ROWLEY,S SISTER SHEILA WAS IN MY CLASS AT ASHWELL ST SCHOOL I THINK THIS IS THE SHIELA THAT WAS IN YOUR CLASS AT CARLTON GIRLS SCHOOL KAT NOT SHIELA PAYNEAS YOU THOUGHT.

BUT THANKS FOR THE MEMORIES DAVE AND KEEP POSTING

Link to post
Share on other sites

I can remember getting my first cycle, secondhand from Reads when he had a little shop at the top of Curzon Street. No wonder he made his money, he charged for everything, a good businessman you might say!

The Labour Hall, halfway along Dunstan Street, where we had a 'youth club'.

The hall at the top of the Co-op, I can't remember whether it was a youth club or not, but I was there when we heard the news of Kennedy's assassination and all the girls were crying.

A row of terraced houses at the top (near Victoria Road)that was known locally as 'Sparrow Barracks'. Redhall, the Coal Merchant opposite.

Being able, with a catapult, to smash the little windows of Staffords factory from the 'New Rec'.

All meeting a the 'Gay Cafe' on Burton Road. God knows they wouldn't call it that nowadays!!

Link to post
Share on other sites

Great stuff!

Brought back so many memories.

Had a brief spell in the wolf cubs at the back of st. George's. Seem to remember yelling something like "Arkelah, we'll do our best" every week. Funny the things you remember.

In my day, the Leapers owned the little chip shop next to Higginbotham's if I remember rightly. I'm a year or two older than you but still remember some of the local "characters" being around in my day.

Interested to hear of Rushcliffe school. I worked on the wiring of that place when I was an apprentice with Clarks of Netherfield.

Those days seem tough in looking back and yet it seemed like so many were happier than today and you could leave your door unlocked.

Link to post
Share on other sites

Only 'cos there was nothing worth nicking :rolleyes:

That's a fact, except the electric and gas meters full of pennies!!

Link to post
Share on other sites

Can any one remember the funny little shop in Netherfield just after the crossing the windows were dirty but you could just make out the cacti on the shelf

Link to post
Share on other sites

Where abouts CG?

It was the first shop on the left just after the first railway crossing i remember it because of all the cacti in the window could'nt see much else because of all the grime on the windows

Link to post
Share on other sites

It was the first shop on the left just after the first railway crossing i remember it because of all the cacti in the window could'nt see much else because of all the grime on the windows

DO YOU MEAN TOP CROSSING NEAR STATION RD OR BOTTOM CROSSING NEAR JACKIE BELLS FIELD KAT IF YOU MEAN BOTTOM CROSSING LOOK AT MY RECENT POST IN NETHERFIELD. THIS WAS MRS FORDS SHOP.

Link to post
Share on other sites

Don't remember any cacti in Mrs. Ford's shop.

Does anybody remember the old wireless repair shop just across the street from the Methodist church and next to Otter's newsagents. Seem to remember the guys name was "Stan" and he worked on the railway. Fixed radios as a spare-time money maker. Wonder what happened to him?

Link to post
Share on other sites

Anyone remember 'Bates' fishing tackle shop? I used to go in there and stand in awe of what was on display, the seedy smokey atmosphere and listen to the fishy tales.

I went by the old Cosy picture house the other day and saw Fred Wallis's woodyard opposite. It has not changed since the 60's, I mean 'not touched', the same wood piles etc. I would think Fred will be in his early 70's now.

Link to post
Share on other sites

Don't remember any cacti in Mrs. Ford's shop.

Does anybody remember the old wireless repair shop just across the street from the Methodist church and next to Otter's newsagents. Seem to remember the guys name was "Stan" and he worked on the railway. Fixed radios as a spare-time money maker. Wonder what happened to him?

Yes this was Stan Alison also mended bikes and motor bikes too dabbled in a few thing did work for a time on the railway and also at bourns .Stan had one of the first Triumph Bonnivilles in Netherfield.It was his dads shop but stan did lots of little bits and bobs from there to make extra money took me up to Carlton one night when I missed the last 26 after going to Netherfield youth club on Dunston St.Lew Dunworth sometimes gave me a lift up home to his bike was BSA with a big dusbin fearing in red i think.

Link to post
Share on other sites

This was the top crossing Babs

The only thing I can remember this shop being was a chinese and later a chippy it could possibly have been a chippy as well before this kat but not sure.

Link to post
Share on other sites

I've not been long on this site but the cobwebs are clearing, Stanley Alison now resurrected. Photos are brilliant for jogging the memory, can we do that Mick?

For those who wish to see me as of nearly 20 years ago see http://www.nottspolicedogs.blogspot.com/ It would be brilliant to bring memories to life.

There are names that I thought I would never forget, how wrong!

The Clocktower at the top of Chandos Street, 3d a go on the pinball machines. Won enough one night for me to buy my first pair of 'elephant hide' shoes from the shoe shop next to George Brown, the barbers, on Victoria Road. On that note there was another barbers on the opposite side of the road who was more modern. I dared to have a 'square neck' haircut but because my Dad had paid for it he took me back and made him give me a 'short back and sides'.

Who were the real characters of Netherfield that you remember, remind me?

Link to post
Share on other sites

Remember an old feller by the name of Charley Pepper. He used to keep pigs down near the second crossing, near Deabill Streat. Used to ride a bike pulling a trailer of Pig swill. Always seemed to have a shout and wave to everybody.

Also remember a tiny grocery shop on the corner of Deabill Street and Norman / Hodgkinson street. Owner's name was key. That store was so small he used to peer out of a small hole made through all the cans of stuff to serve a customer. Not sure how they shoehorned him in there.

Link to post
Share on other sites

REMEMBER KEYS WELL DAVE AND CHARLIE PEPPER.CAN YOU REMEMBER TOM TULLY ALSO KEPT PIGS UP ON THESE ALOTMENTS COLLECTED THE SWILL FROM OUR END OF NETHERFIELD.

Link to post
Share on other sites

For those of you with an interest in the history of Netherfield there is an excellant paperback 'Loco Village the birth and growth of Netherfield' (ISBN: 095246120X).

I remember the pigsties, but the only person I recollect getting the swill was Allan Jelley, around my age, had it as a hobby.

Then there was a man who lived on Curzon Street who worked on a pig farm. He had the features of a 'pig', believe it or not, and there were some weird stories about him.

Link to post
Share on other sites

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.

Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

Loading...