Were you at Berridge?


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Thank you for the welcome. I'm glad I stumbled on this site. It happene because I booked to come up and look at the old place and bring my wife and granddaughter to show them where I went to school etc.

As I said I started at Berridge infants in 1945. That was in the days when you still had to take your gas mask with you!

I remember some of the teachers that have been mentioned on here. I remember Mr. Reid being a kind but strict teacher. There was also a Mr. Dougan who taught French but he strangely disappeared suddenly.

Remember too "running the gauntlet" I think I got it,ore than most for the simple reason of my fathers job. He worked for the Education Department and was what called a "School Board Man" if anyone missed school in Berridge and they had a visit from a board officer I got the blame because it was thought I had reported them. In fact he had nothing to do with our school. Not complaining, just passing on memories.

Truth is my father was a very cruel person and anyone who knew me back in those days would agree. Beat me regularly but back in those days no one believed you if you reported it, especially the police. Moan over.

When I left school I went to work at Boots until 1958 when I signed up to join the navy which I did in February 1959. Did ten and a half years in the Fleet Air Arm. I settled here in Weymouth and went to work at RNAS Yeovilton doing the same job as I did in the Navy.

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Through this door...and it's the original, although painted black in my day...I walked with my mum one cold morning early in 1962. I was just 4 years old. The door led to Miss Smith's office and my mu

Lovely visit to Berridge yesterday and nice to put faces to names. Planning a few things I could talk to the children about and sort out my school photos it made me realise that it was 59 years since

Yes, it was emotional. I stood outside the Brushfield Street gate earlier in the morning and the memories came gushing back of my mum who passed on 9 years ago.   Oddly, I've discovered that

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Thanks for the welcome Michael.

Pity I didn't know about this site years ago, but never mind I've found it now. i will very much enjoy reading all the posts and subjects. Who knows, I may even find someone who remembers me.

I was brought up on Churchfield Lane. i did Google the post code a couple of years ago and the house where I lived has been extended. I intend to drive round there when i come up in a few weeks time just to have a look.

I also intend to drive down Knighton Avenue and round the bottom part and up Radford Grove Lane. The reason is that on V.E. day night there was a huge bonfire in the middle of the road. I remember we stayed up all night. I don't know if we went to school the next day or not. Anyway, the bonfire burnt a big hole in the tarmac as you can imagine. It was left unprepared for ages but when they did repair the road they used a different coloured tarmac where the fire had been. I suppose in memory of the fire that had been there and the reason it had been there.

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I was at Berridge both as an infant and a junior, in the late 60s. I recall Mr Baugh well. He was a kindly and gifted teacher. Omnipresent smell of cigars! I recall Mrs Green, who terrified me, and also Mr Anderson, who I knew well as I was friends with his son. Mr Anderson would not have got on in teaching nowadays as he made a lot of children uncomfortable and may have been a little too fond of children, if you get what I mean.

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I spent about 18 months at Berridge in the 50s- - I remember the English teacher was Mr Merrick - Art Mr MacFarkand I think

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Interesting to read MercuryDancer's comments about Mr Anderson because, as a 10 year old, that's exactly what I sensed, without really understanding what it meant. I have often wondered about him since and am slightly relieved to learn that it wasn't just me who noticed it!

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many a great time spent in those wooden shacks, or were they classrooms, lol, chandler,parr,kempy { could give you a good rap on the knuckles with his cellotaped double ruler} anyone here ever get that treatment ? mr baugh, headmaster, mr tt williams, brill teacher and great games master, noel james, colin hudson,trev huddlestone, jane topham, susan mcdermott, bernice bond, sabhjit gill, mickey brennan, me best mate, jane humphries,jill sparrow, loads and loads of good times there, rennie carruthers, brill athlete, chris riley, kevin burgin, kev green, kenneth williams, colin simpson, etc etc, i joined berridge when i was 4 back in 62 i think till 69, great years

Is that Mick Brennan lived on birkin avenue

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Awe Noel james was is my cousin 2yrs older than me would loved to have seen that punch ... my mum gave Mrs Platt a beating cause she made me cry .. looking back this was the best time of my life my best friend was katalina Bradley if any one can remember her she was a Irish lass. did not stay at the school long as th we family went back to Ireland they lived on Gregory boulevard ... I lived on kirkstead terrace ...

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On 3/12/2013 at 11:19 AM, Jill Sparrow said:

Well done, Pidge Pie. All these names bring back warm memories.

I once punched Noel James on the nose (look out, it's confession time) because he was irritating me in the playground. His nose poured with blood which was a slightly different colour from what was usually escaping from his nose! (Do you mind, I've not had my breakfast yet!) He ran off to Mrs Platts who was on duty (and we were all terrified of her) to report what I'd done and she refused to believe him. You see, I had the reputation of being so well behaved that I couldn't possibly punch a little boy on the nose...see what you can get away with when you look angelic?

I am still in touch with Jane Humphries who was my best friend through Berridge. Also spoke to Mr Williams a few years ago when he retired from teaching. I was amazed that he remembered me!

So come on, Pidge Pie, let's have some more memories out of you. What about Miss Smith (top infants), I remember you and she had the odd run in but by no means as regularly (or as painfully) as some.

 

Awe Noel james was my cousin he's a bit older than me would loved to have seen that punch ha ha ha ... my mum had a go at Mrs Platt gave her a hiding for making me cry .... oh but they was the best days back in the day .... I lived on kirkstead terrace .... then moved to Shirley terrace ... park is where my house used to be ... my best friend was kathlina Bradley if any one remembers her she was an Irish lass did not stay long as they went back to Ireland she lived on Gregory boulevard...

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I was there 54 - 57 before passing my 11+ and moving to FFGS.

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Welcome cazann. You're a bit younger than me but I well remember your cousin, Noel. I hope his nose has stopped bleeding!

You may remember John Heawood aka Pidge Pie, who also lived on Kirkstead Street now long gone.

Look forward to sharing your memories of Berridge.

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Noel was, like all little boys back then, a member of the short trousers brigade. He also wore a grey jumper most of the time.

I remember him playing marbles around a metal drain cover in the playground at playtime along with Michael Brennan, John Heawood and others. Scrabbling about on the ground with the marbles resulted in dirty knees and crusty scabs! Noel flew a bit close to the wooden rulers at times but always had a smile on his face, except when I punched him on the nose of course! I often think about those boys who were constantly on the receiving end of the cane or, worse still, Miss Smith and her roller towel and marvel at how cheerful they all were. The explanation has to be that they got regular whackings from their parents at home and no one thought there was anything unusual or wrong in it.

How times have changed, eh? Can you play marbles on an X box?

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Never tried to play marbles on a games console... so true how times have changed .. noels sister Julie was in my year funny when memories come to mind as he lived up to his name as he lived on .Noel street ... I loved playing marbles on the cobble roads bare in mind we was a lot safer in them days ...

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Thinking about parental discipline brought back a vivid memory of a trip to Woolworths on Radford Road when I was around 3 years old. Oh yes, I can hear all the psychologists out there protesting that no one can remember what happened to them prior to the age of four, but I can assure them that my recollections stretch back to sitting in my coach built pram. Just don't ask me what I did last week!

In 1961, mohair coats were all the rage and, not to be outdone in the fashion stakes, my mother had one which she greatly prized. It was fairly generously cut with large fabric covered buttons down the front in a pale cream colour, purchased from Anne Brooks, further up Radford Road.

It should be remembered that Woolworths of this era had bare wooden floorboards from which rose the solid, dark wooden counters, far too high for a small child to see over, with green bevelled edge glass panels around the goods on sale.

My mother was a regular customer and I was familiar with the layout of the store, my main area of interest being the biscuit counter to which I have alluded elsewhere on Nottstalgia. Mmmmm, the lure of those caramel coated shortbreads. No surprise, then, that the first word I ever uttered was not "da da" or "ma ma". Oh no. It was "biccies!"

On this particular day, mum had taken me into Woolworths. Only recently released from the tyranny of reins, pink fleece lined leather with a silver bunny rabbit etched on the front, I must have been suffering from wanderlust. Following the mohair coat along the aisles, I was more interested in the huge mirrored construction suspended from the ceiling which, with hindsight, I suppose enabled the staff to spot the light fingered fraternity.

We had meandered around the entire store when, suddenly, a face peered quizzically down at me from above the mohair coat. A face totally unfamiliar to me. For a second I pondered how and why a strange female came to be wearing my mother's precious coat, before screaming blue murder at the prospect of being lost and abandoned.

Within seconds, mother appeared, wearing her own mohair coat and administered a slap round the back of the legs for wandering off!

Of course, the reins went back on again until I could be more attentive and, worse still, there were no caramel coated shortbread biscuits that day!

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I can remember right back to being about 2 yrs old we had real snow it covered us and as for fog wow didn't we know it was that thick year in year out could not see a thing in front or behind ... winter no matter how bad the snow piled we had to walk to school ... kids have no idea the fun we had out doors oh how I miss those days and feel so disappointed on what the kids of today miss out on

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A stone's throw from Woolworths and on the other side of the road was one of my favourite childhood haunts. Ford's. I absolutely adored that place. Until I was older, I had to be carried up the steps because they were so high my little legs couldn't manage them. Once inside, however, it was a paradise of glass fronted counters and ranks of drawers from floor to ceiling, all containing neatly folded items of underwear or linen. Vests, pants, bras, baby clothes and let's not forget the dreaded liberty bodice which I was forced to wear until I went to grammar school due to my tendency to develop bronchitis every winter. Ford's had drawers full of those! Corsets galore. Cushion covers, striped flannel sheets, pillow cases to match...all squirreled away in glass fronted drawers set in oak framed counters. I can't imagine what it would cost to fit out a shop to those standards in today's chipboard, MDF, plastic-obsessed society.

Then there was the aroma of linen mixed with polish. I can smell it now! Mum would ask for what she wanted, state the size and an assistant would dive into a drawer under the counter or sometimes shin up a ladder on wheels to a drawer near the ceiling. I was all attention, I can tell you! After Woolworths biscuit counter, it was the place I wanted to work when I grew up!

Once retrieved from a drawer, the item would be spread out on the glass topped counter for inspection. Nothing was wrapped in a plastic bag and there were no bar codes. Each garment had a tiny price ticket attached with a pin. I recall that most things cost 2/11d or 1/6d! If mum purchased, the item was wrapped in a brown paper bag. If not, it was folded neatly and returned to its drawer.

Lovely shop. Doubtless the building still stands but, like everything else, the craftsmanship which created those fascinating little drawers will have been ripped out of it!

Ford's was a chain of stores and they were to be found all over Nottingham but I loved the Radford Road version because of the multi coloured tiles beneath the windows and the ornate brass handles on the door. I don't buy liberty bodices any longer but I still miss that shop!

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