I was born in 1954, at 990, Middleton Rd, Chadderton, Oldham. In those
days it was not unusual for babies to be born at home, in the presence
of a midwife.
I can’t remember much about living in Chadderton. We lived in a small
terraced house with a coal shed in the back yard and a small front
garden. I remember the roses in the front and my mother spraying them
with soapy water to kill the greenfly. My bedroom had patterned
wallpaper with nursery rhyme characters on and it had been decorated by
my father. I never liked that wallpaper. I think I considered it
babyish.
Often my mother used to take me to my paternal grandparents’ house or my
grandad came to pick me up. It seemed like quite a long walk and I
remember having to walk down a back entry past all the yard gates. At
one particular house, the Slacks’, there was a black Labrador called
Satan, who used to bark from behind the gate at people passing, and
although I knew that he could not get out, I was always scared passing
that house.
Often my mother used to take me to my paternal grandparents’ house or my
grandad came to pick me up. It seemed like quite a long walk and I
remember having to walk down a back entry past all the yard gates. At
one particular house, the Slacks’, there was a black Labrador called
Satan, who used to bark from behind the gate at people passing, and
although I knew that he could not get out, I was always scared passing
that house.
Every weekend, we went in the car (Standard Vanguard shooting brake) to
my other grandparents. They lived in a bungalow in another part of
Oldham with a big garden and a field at the bottom with a horse.
Strange, but I remember very little about the inside of my grandparents’
houses, yet I remember their gardens quite clearly, including what
flowers were there. Nobody I knew had a phone in the house, nor a TV,
except for my Grandma and Grandad Tat (Tatlow.) My grandad always seemed
to be watching sport, especially horse racing. With hindsight, he
probably used to bet on the horses, although that type of thing was
never spoken about.
I always loved books, especially Enid Blyton (no longer encouraged these
days): Noddy and Mary Mouse when I was little, then later on when I
could read myself, Famous Five and Secret Seven and numerous others. I
did have dolls and a dolls’ house which my father had made for me, but I
think I preferred my teddies and animals. I also had a collection of
matchbox cars, which looking back was probably unusual for a little girl
at that time, and I remember my father saying, “I think she’s nearly old
enough for a train set.” He said it a lot, and my mother was always
dismissive, and the train set never materialised, although I did quite
like the sound of it.
The September after my fourth birthday, I started at Baytree Avenue
school, a short walk away. I don’t remember much about it, except that I
sat next to an American girl and she used to give me bubble gum. I’d
never had it before; it wasn’t allowed. I think I probably had to hide
it from my mother. Any child who had done something wrong (like talking
in class) had to stand on their chair with their hands on their head
until the teacher decided they could sit down again. I used to look out
of the window and always felt happy when I saw my mother coming to pick
me up. We didn’t wear a uniform and I remember my grandma Tat always
used to buy me pretty summer dresses.
When I was five, we moved to Cumberland as it was then called, as my
father got a job in the nuclear power station at Sellafield. We had
already spent a holiday there, in a caravan at St Bees on the coast, and
it was very different from Oldham. We drove there, and it was always a
journey I dreaded, which improved years later after the M6 was
completed. It seemed interminable, and I was always travel sick. I would
be placed in the back, with a potty for vomiting. I used to be given a
travel sickness tablet. They were called “Sea Legs” and they clearly
didn’t work!
Female, Born in 1954, North England
July 2021
"Sea Legs"