Gregory Boulevard Over The Years


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So many happy memories there. Beautiful buildings which reflect the original affluence of this area. My beloved library, Forest Dene where I was a regular visitor due to bronchitis in the winter, long

Gregory Boulevard over the years on Post website.   https://www.nottinghampost.com/news/local-news/gallery/25-pictures-gregory-boulevard-over-3288455

Just found this:   http://www.nottsheritagegateway.org.uk/places/forestfields.htm

So many happy memories there. Beautiful buildings which reflect the original affluence of this area. My beloved library, Forest Dene where I was a regular visitor due to bronchitis in the winter, long gone shops and the bowling green where I remember sitting in my coachbuilt pram whilst mum sat on a bench,knitting and chatting to other mums. Being pushed on the swings on the forest by my grandad. In the autumn, wading through piles of fallen leaves whilst walking to the shops, on reins, with my mother.

 

Later, I walked to and from Manning along this thoroughfare. It was, by then,deteriorating but nothing like the ghetto it has now become.

 

I prefer to remember it as it was. It will never be like that again.

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My grandparents lived at Grimston Road, which is at the junction of Gregory Boulevard/Alfreton Road.

 

One of my big memories of the area is walking from their house along Gregory Boulevard to Goose Fair on the Forest. This was in the early 60s, and always on the Thursday around 5-6pm, so it was half daylight-half dark. I was always fascinated by the sideshows in the front gardens of the houses on the Boulevard, and the increasing noise and smells from the Fair as we walked towards the Forest.

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When I  first got married in '65, we moved into a top floor flat on Burford road. Come Goose fair, we could walk straight down to Gregory boulevard onto the forest. Used to attend the Mary Potter health centre, (when our doctors closed on 2, Player st.)

Made a window box to put outside our lounge window. Grew all sorts in it, includiing a sunflower and potato. Had a margarine tub for a water feature. Daft or what ??

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Surprising how a picture suddenly jogs your memory. Immediately I saw the picture and read what it was about.  In picture 16 which is of the chest clinic I remembered that I had been there for a chest X ray. Must have been early to mid 60's. Not thought about that since the day I went and I still don't know what it was about!  I may as well forget all about it again now .

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Like you pianoman, I  vaguely seem to remember attending that clinic for an xray, 

Must have been when I  was under 14years old. I have been led to believe that I  was actually born at a clinic on Gregory boulevard but absolutely no idea where.

Don't  know who paid the fees as it was never revealed. My understanding is it may have been a benefactor, ( there was some suspicions as to who my real dad was, though unable to verify this).

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Crikey, Beekay! A real mystery. Your exact place of birth should be on your birth certificate.  As I've said, I was a regular customer at Forest Dene.  Measles at 5 years old left me with a propensity for bronchitis every winter. I played on it shamelessly because I knew it meant time off school! Nothing was dearer to my heart than time off school and so I did everything humanly possible to exacerbate the situation.

 

I can't bring to mind any clinics on Gregory Boulevard which might have had maternity facilities but I'd certainly be looking into it if I were you. However, I'm a very nosy old crone and it may be that you don't have any desire to know.

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To be perfectly honest Jill, I  can't  be arsed. There is absolutely nothing I  can do about it. Can't  alter the past so makes no difference to the future. I know who I  believe  my dad to be. I also know what my mother was like. To give you an idea, my older brother told me years ago that he was born on Lime street, Bulwell, and while my dad went to war my ma sold his house while he was away. I always lived on Denton st till I  was 14 and assumed I  was born there, till i heard different.

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I worked on Gregory Boulevard 1964 - 1974 and watched it (and Forest Fields) deteriorate from a nice affluent area to the beginnings of a revolting ghetto - this was the time I considered that it was becoming an unsafe place to be in. I did, though, move to live on Second Avenue (just behind the Boulevard) in about 1972 and stayed there until 1978 when I left Nottingham. Even at that time there were the rumblings of unrest and a rapid deterioration in the quality or standard of life which, as we all should know culminated in the Hyson Green riots in 1981. Even though those riots were described as being in Hyson Green, I understand that the civil disobedience extended as far as Sherwood Rise - very close to where I had been living.

 

My other memories of Gregory Boulevard (apart from Goose Fair) are being a patient at Forest Dene (my dad had TB and I had to have a 'special' BCG vaccination - which made me quite ill and left quite a severe scar on my arm). That was when I was thirteen(ish). At 25 or so I became a victim of the leprechaun dentist (butcher) of  Gregory Boulevard, Ronald Acton - who has been spoken of at length on these pages

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Our accountants, Blythens, used to be at the top end of Gregory Boulevard before they moved over to larger premises on Haydn Rd. opposite the Meridian factory. They were just up the road from HATRA, the Hosiery and Allied Trades Research Association. Those premises were taken on by Kirk, Cree and Jepson, latterly Page Kirk, the chartered accountants. Ken Kirk, the senior partner, now consultant, used to be my old boss at Hubbart Durose and Pain on Park Row. His professional partner, Ann Jepson, now dead, lived at Hoveringham and was secretary of the South Notts Hunt and this role was taken over by my neighbour, Jane Brazier, wife of Bill Brazier, formerly of the Fabulous Beatmen. I seem to know everybody! :biggrin:

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1 hour ago, jonab said:

I worked on Gregory Boulevard 1964 - 1974 and watched it (and Forest Fields) deteriorate from a nice affluent area to the beginnings of a revolting ghetto - this was the time I considered that it was becoming an unsafe place to be in. I did, though, move to live on Second Avenue (just behind the Boulevard) in about 1972 and stayed there until 1978 when I left Nottingham. Even at that time there were the rumblings of unrest and a rapid deterioration in the quality or standard of life which, as we all should know culminated in the Hyson Green riots in 1981. Even though those riots were described as being in Hyson Green, I understand that the civil disobedience extended as far as Sherwood Rise - very close to where I had been living.

 

My other memories of Gregory Boulevard (apart from Goose Fair) are being a patient at Forest Dene (my dad had TB and I had to have a 'special' BCG vaccination - which made me quite ill and left quite a severe scar on my arm). That was when I was thirteen(ish). At 25 or so I became a victim of the leprechaun dentist (butcher) of  Gregory Boulevard, Ronald Acton - who has been spoken of at length on these pages

 

I remember being taken by my mother to a dentist on the boulevard, a large house on the left up from Alfreton Road but not as far as the forest in late forties or early fifties.

I remember running from his dental surgery up the stairs in the vestibule to escape, followed by the dentist with a amalgam to fill my tooth cavity. I believe he was bald and could have been the butcher of Gregory Boulevard.

Whimp or what?

 

Due to immigration Hyson Green and everywhere else was changed for the worst for forever .

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Your dentist doesn't sound like Ronald Acton. He had ginger hair and a temper to go with it.

 

There were several dentists along Gregory Boulevard. Yours may have been Mr Booth, whose surgery was roughly where you describe. Booth was widowed in the 1950s and married his receptionist. Violet Booth was a friend of my mother's. What Booth was like as a dentist, I don't know but doubt anyone was as bad as Acton.

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16 minutes ago, Jill Sparrow said:

Your dentist doesn't sound like Ronald Acton. He had ginger hair and a temper to go with it.

 

There were several dentists along Gregory Boulevard. Yours may have been Mr Booth, whose surgery was roughly where you describe. Booth was widowed in the 1950s and married his receptionist. Violet Booth was a friend of my mother's. What Booth was like as a dentist, I don't know but doubt anyone was as bad as Acton.

 

Many thanks, Jill.

I now remember he was Mr Booth. His name had escaped my memory.

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Barrie ! I've never known my birth parents, and I've only recently seen my mothers birth certificate, and she had me at Norton St. 

We may have the same dad. We could be related.  You could be my older brother! LOL

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My grandma lived on Henry street, off the middle of Norton st., on my mams side. How do you know I'd  be older ? Could be younger or even a twin. Where abouts on Norton street were you?

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You've often told us you're 76. I was only 74 a fortnight ago. I can't remember what number on Norton St I'm afraid.

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My cousin, Brian Burton, lived at 50, Norton St. when he got married. That would be in the 50’s. I also remember  Wyche and Coppock, the dinghy builders at Norton St. Mills. I saw one of their boats, a National 12, in Albert St. Antiques, Newark, last week. It looked like new and I was very tempted!

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Didn't know that, FLY2. Were you adopted? 

 

Remember Norton Street well. Walked along it en route to Garden Street.

 

There must have been many children born as a result of wartime liaisons. Figures for children fathered by GIs are incredible. 

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Fly, Didn't  realise I'd  said it that often. If anybody asks me my age, I'll  plead the fifth amendment,  if we have that in England.

If you were a youngster when on Norton street, did you attend boulevard school? Or have I  got that arse about face.

Jill, if you walked up Norton st.to Garden st, you must have been on Hartley road side of Denman st. Up past the Sir Garnett pub.

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Yes, I was adopted in Mansfield when I was a few weeks old, so never lived in Radford. Although I did live on Bridlington St, from 1954-59 approximately.

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As a child, I thought it must be really exciting to find out you were adopted. I remember asking my parents over and over again whether I had been adopted, to the point where my exasperated father retorted "Unfortunately not. You're ours. I tried to swap you for a dog when you were born but the dog owner said the mutt was better looking!"

 

In more recent years, during the course of my work I have come to realise the often traumatic nature of the stories behind adoption and the devastating effect this must have on those who can access it once they reach adulthood.  Wisely, there are restrictions and support networks for those who do so.  Most of the time, it's not 'exciting' at all.  I certainly wouldn't want to have read some of the horror stories I've come across as part of my job and known they were about my parents.

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In the 50s and 60s my doctor's surgery was on Gregory boulevard next to a bank on the corner of Radford rd, number 45 I think, a large Victorian  semi with a stone eagle statue atop the gate pillars. It was very old and basic inside. The Mary Potter 1960s building across the road further down was far more appropriate being purpose built. Externally those houses in those days were of their original appearance but imo they've been unsympathetically altered for commercial use since then.

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I remember the Mary Potter Health Centre being built. It was quite unusual of its time. As WW says, most GP surgeries were to be found in old Victorian houses and there were a number of them along Gregory Boulevard, including Dr Kelleher whose practice was in a similar house with a blue front door, across the road from Mary Potter. I believe he eventually moved in there.

 

Our surgery was on the ground floor of a Victorian house near the Le Grand pub on Alfreton Road. Drs Kelly, McGrath and Halley. Irish, every one. Drank like fish and smoked like chimneys. They also had a practice in Bulwell. 

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I had a "drive" along Gregory  boulevard using Google earth for comparison (with Nottingham Post) and the overall impression of some of these houses shows that above the normal mundane, parked-car-strewn, busy-busy eye-level the elegant Victorian building details and decorations are largely intact, proud, everlasting and confident, still watching over the human machinations below. So it's not all doom. (Architectually speaking).

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