Ninety - nine stops ….. heaps of stories …. and a favourite tram destination

The publication of our first book in the new series on The History of Great Manchester By Tram has stirred the pot with plenty of people commenting that it’s a novel way to record the past. *

Arriving at Deansgate Castlefield, 2023

After all there are ninety-nine tram stops across the network and each one will have its own history.

Shudehill after the trams have gone, 2023

And so, Peter and I have decided to explore the entire Metro system, travelling the routes looking for interesting pictures and bits of history.

Peter will paint a picture of the stop and surrounding buildings, and I will find stories about each stop, which will build into a mosaic of tales about Greater Manchester’s past.

And it occurred to me that along the way it would be fun to find out which metro stop comes out as a favourite of those who use them.

I must confess to having several. 

Cornbrook is one because it affords fine views of two canals and the changing landscape as each year more new apartment blocks replace the old industrial brown field sites.

But then Deansgate Castlefield, also has a canal, the old Knott Mill Railway Station and is just a few minutes’ walk away from the city’s own Heritage Park, along with some fine bars and historic pubs.

Sneaking up on Mr's Pankhurst in St Peter's Square, 2022

And both of these stops vie with St Peter’s Square, which has a popular open space from which to take in Central Ref, the Town Hall Extension, the Midland Hotel and Mrs Pankhurst addressing an audience.

In addition, we are close to the Cenotaph, the site of the Peterloo Massacre and that other square which boasts a collection of statues.

Peter is attractedto several but it would be presumptuous of me to reflect on just why Shudehill and New Islington are on his list.

So, that is it.

You can nominate your own selected stop, including a picture and a  few sentences which can be sent to us as a comment via, the blog, social media or an old fashioned postcard.

Busy tram day, Deansgate Castlefield, 2023

Missing the tram from Cornbrook, 2024

Location; Ninety- nine spots in Greater Manchester

Pictures; my tram stops, 2018- 2023, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

*Trafford Bar to East Didsbury, The History of Greater Manchester By Tram, The Stories At The Stops, Andrew Simpson & Peter Topping, 2024.  

The tourists at St Peter's Square, 2018

It is available from Chorlton Bookshop, and from us at www.pubbooks.co.uk, price £4.99

The unremarkable reveals its secrets ...... at Chorlton station in 1911

This is one of those pictures which don’t get included in the collections of Chorlton.

And you can see why of course.  There is nothing here at first glance which anyone would recognise so there is no point in trying to match it with the present.

Nor do we know who any of the four are and given that the photograph is over a hundred years old I doubt that we ever will.

So most of us would pass over the image and if pressed would label it “four men outside a brick hut, possibly industrial, date unknown.”

For me that is pretty much the attraction.  The date is given as circa 1909 and we are down at the Goods Office by Chorlton Station.

And with that small piece of detail the photograph begins to make sense and I think  starts being interesting.

Look closely and to the left there is a carriage no doubt waiting for someone off the train, while directly in front of the hut is the Public Weighing Machine and to the right the offices of the coal merchants.

In 1911 there were five of them working from the yard by the railway line along with J. Duckett & Sons, building merchants, and J. A. Bruce Alexander, nurseryman.

We may even be able to date more accurately when the picture was taken because according to the 1911 directory one of the firms working in the yard was a Frank Tinker and it is his name which appears above and on the office to our immediate right.

And so to the four. I still don’t know who they are, but one  is wearing a railwayman’s cap with the letters CLC, for the Cheshire Lines Committee which will take me down the route of searching out their staffing records.

The two in the doorway judging by their clothes may be clerical staff which I is confirmed by the sheaf of papers held by one of them.

So the brick hut will be connected to the Public Weighing machine, these are employees of the railway and we are down by the station in what is now the car park of the supermarket.

And looking back at the directories for the years before 1911 there is evidence that the number of coal merchants has grown reflecting I suspect how populous Chorlton was becoming and how successful had been the railway in the 20 or so years since it was opened.

And not long after this was posted I got one of those helpful comments from John Anthony Hewitt "Not really a public weighing machine Andrew Simpson, although it could have been used for that purpose as well as railway duties. 

It was most likely used for sale of coal and other materials, by weight, to local merchants. 

They would weigh-in empty wagons, weigh-out the same wagons laden with coal, etc., and calculate the bill. 

The person holding the papers could be one of the merchants judging by the non-railway style of hat being worn. 

He is also looking slightly bemused [at the bill], whereas the railway clerk has a broad smile on his face."

Location; Chorlton

Picture; from the Lloyd collection, 1911

Recreating the lost Well Hall House with Edith Nesbit

Well Hall House from Well Hall Road, 1909

Well Hall House has passed out of living memory.

It was built in 1733, was home to some Eltham notables and was demolished in 1930.

It stood between Well Hall Road and the moat and replaced the Tudor manor house which Sir Gregory Page knocked down to build his fine 18th century house.

But a building which dominated Well Hall, and was known by many seems to have left little trace.  There are a few photographs a handful of maps and the land records of the tithe schedule.

Wll Hall, 1874

Together these show a tall building which ran to three floors, had a wing on each side and was set in an estate of about 33 acres including a front garden, a walled garden to the south, the moat , three ponds, a stream and much meadow and pasture land along with the farm buildings which included the present Tudor Barn.

A little to the north were Well Hall Cottages which in the 1840s had been a complex of six properties but by 1911 seem to have become a farm house and one cottage.

But Well Hall house was sufficiently enclosed that I doubt the cottages proved much of an intrusion, and so within its grounds the occupants of the big house got on with their favoured lives wandering the fourteen rooms and looking out east across the fields and west across their gardens.

Judging by the photographs I am not sure it was a place that would have caught my fancy.  It was tall and the design fitted that classical style of balance so that what you saw on one side was replicated on the other.

All of which is not much for a house which stood for just under two hundred years, but as these things work there is one other source of information, and that comes from Edith Nesbit, the novelist who lived in the house from the late 19th century into the twentieth.

Contained in some of her books are references to Eltham, Well Hall and the house itself.  And of these it is The Red House written in 1902 which provides some wonderful insights into the place.

The back of Well Hall House from the Paddock and moat, 1909

The book itself is a light account of the lives of a newly married couple who inherit the Red House and choose to live there.

In the course of the year that follows Ms Nesbit describes in some detail the house, its gardens, the nearby cottages with references to the village the parish church and offers up walk on parts for both Woolwich and Blackheath.

But it is the house which draws you in, with its panelled rooms, great hall, vaulted cellars and kitchen still with the equipment which would have been in use through the 18th and 19th centuries.

Added to this there are observations about the rooms which had been much messed about by changing fashion.

The front of Well Hall House, date unknown

Now like all such descriptions I suspect there will be points when the Red House departs from the actuality of the original, but I am confident that there is more that will have been the same than less.

This in turn stretched to her descriptions of the gardens, including the walled one, the presence of the railway with its station and embankment and the parish church.

Edith and her husband Hubert had taken on the house and 7 acres of the land.

Of course there may be more sources of information sitting in the Greenwich Heritage Centre and in the letters of the people who visited Edith and her husband at Well Hall which included the Webb’s, H.G.Wells and Bernard Shaw but in the meantime the Red House seems to have done the old place proud.

Location; Well Hall, London


Pictures; Well Hall House circa 1909,  from The story of Royal Eltham, R.R.C. Gregory, 1909 and published on The story of Royal Eltham, by Rob Ayers, http://gregory.elthamhistory.org.uk/bookpages/i001.htm and Well Hall House, from The Edith Nesbit Society, http://www.edithnesbit.co.uk/ map of Well Hall from the OS Map of Kent 1858-74

On Chorlton-cum-Hardy Railway Station with Edwin Casson

Now it is rare that you can identify an individual on a picture like this.

But I know that the man sat down, fourth from left in the middle row is Edwin Casson, who continued to work for the railway company well into the 1920s.

And I know this because yesterday I bumped into Steve Casson who is the great grandson of Edwin and promised to send over a series of family photographs.

I don’t have a date for the picture but I do know that Black and White the photographers, were active in Manchester in the early 20th century.

In 1903, they had studios at 62 Oldham Street, 208 Oldham Road, and 93 Oxford Street.

I can’t be more precise, but they do not appear in either the 1895 directory or the 1909 one, so we have a limited time frame for our picture.

The railway station at Chorlton-cum-Hardy had opened in 1880 and proved very popular, particularly with those who lived in Chorlton and worked in town.

The journey took less than fifteen minutes and so for some it was possible to come home for dinner.

Location; Chorlton-cum-Hardy

Picture; Mr. Edwin Casson, on Chorlton-cum-Hardy Railway Station, circa 1903, from the collection of Steve Casson

Friday morning at Cornbrook …..

Cornbrook is one of those switching hubs on the network, which offer up the chance to head to south Manchester, west to Salford, Eccles, and Trafford Centre, or Altrincham.

Missing the tram. 2024

Alternatively, it is the gateway on into the heart of the city centre and out east and north to the edges of Greater Manchester.

And it is one of my favourite interchanges which offers up views of two canals, heaps of brown field sites and the growing story or the redevelopment of the area.

That said it can be a pretty draughty spot to stand.

But I like it, and like the other stops where you can jump on different trams there is a buzz about the place.

And that is it. 

Yellow spots at Cornbrook, 2024

Other than to add a few pictures of a Friday in April at the stop just after the rush hour has come and gone.

Bound for Excchange, 2024

Location Cornbrook

Pictures; Friday at Cornbrook, 2024, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

The Albert Club ..... a history and an insight into West Didsbury and beyond ...... over two centuries

Now I am looking forward to reading The Albert Club, A History, which has been written by Jim Machin.

It is one of those books which combines the story of one sport's club in West Didsbury which was established in 1874 and along the way offers up a wonderful social commentary on both the area and a picture of life over two centuries.

Jim Writes, 

"Pre-order your copy at the Albert Club now, over the bar for £10. All profits will go to the Albert Club. 

The Albert Club started in 1874 as a gentlemen’s club for the wealthy merchants, industrialists, and professionals of late-Victorian Manchester, especially those living in West Didsbury, Didsbury and Withington.

It is now a thriving community sports and social club at the heart of West Didsbury life.

Designed by leading Manchester architects of the time, it is believed that the club is the oldest lawn tennis club, still using the same original clubhouse and grounds, in the world.

How did this happen? Who were the gentlemen? How were they connected? How well-known were they in Manchester and Britain? What was club life like? What were the clubhouse and grounds like? How did the sports develop? How does the club’s story reflect the social history of Manchester and Britain? How long did it take women to be allowed full access? And how did that happen?

There is tragedy and comedy, and evidence of other forgotten Manchester histories. The social norms and dialogue of the earlier eras are often shocking, but sometimes surprisingly similar to the modern day. Some things don’t change!

Written in the style of a reference book, the reader can select those subjects and periods they are interested in, from 1874 right up to the last 35 years.

You can also find out if an early Albert member (1874 to 1924) lived in your house, and what they did for a living.

The book is in Royal format (9" x 6"). The main content of the book is 300 pages long, with another 70 pages of appendices, references, index and introduction".

Here’s what the Albert’s proof readers have been saying:

"Meticulously researched and well written, it brings to life the many generations of Albert members.

It made fascinating reading. You have worked wonders researching the lives of all those amazing early members.

You've done a great job mate! Looking forward to reading the rest.

A fantastic read, absolutely amazing to find out about the history of the club and the courts, you’ve done a fantastic job here and should be really, really proud of yourself!

A love letter to the Albert. Tears in my eyes. Amazing!

A fascinating insight into the people and history of Didsbury.

Undoubtedly the best book about the Albert Club that I have ever seen. I picked it up and could not put it down. Must have been the super glue.

Amazing read. Well done! You must be proud and relieved to have finished.

Hear, hear! Brought tears to my eyes."

The Albert Club, 39-41 Old Lansdowne Road, West Didsbury, Manchester M20 2PA

thealbertclub.co.uk

When the past stubbornly hangs on …..

There will come a time and I am guessing it will not be too long when all those old Chorlton street names will have passed out of living memory.

A little bit of the past, Regents Road, 2024

And that would be a shame.

At present Highfield Road, Regent Road, Church Road, and heaps more cling on remembered by those who knew them.

But that won’t be forever, and then the only record will appear in old directories, some maps, and the former road signs.

And so it is with Regent Road, now Reeves Road, although I doubt this one will last for much longer.

The renaming of many of Chorlton’s roads seems to have occurred in the late 1960s into the 70s and I suppose was about eliminating duplication.

That said it is not new.  Cross Road was variously Cross Street and Cross Lane, while Beech Road was once Chorlton Row, and the start of Whitelow Road was originally Lloyd Street.

Oak Bank, 1959

So never pass an old road sign without recording it for posterity or anyone else.

Location; Reeves Road, 

Picture; When the past stubbornly hangs on, 2024 from the collection of Andrew Simpson, and Oak Bank, 1959, now Silverwood Avenue, A.H.Downes m17489, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass

With Reg and David on Chorlton station in 1925 and memories of a book stall in Varese

This is just one of those short little stories which feature some of the people and an unusual scene from the 1920s.

We are on Chorlton railway station beside the W.H.Smith’s bookstall and it is 1925.

On the right is David Ball who was the manager and on the left is Reg Croton who ran a taxi and lived on Sandy Lane.

By the time this picture was taken Reg was 36 and was running the family business.

His father would have made the move from horse drawn cab to motor car and was listed in the 1911 telephone book at Chorlton-c-H 481, CROTON, Chas, Coach Proprietor ...Sandy Lane.

And by another of those links with the past the family home had been a farmhouse and by the 1920s may have been a hundred years old.

But it is also the bookstall that fascinates me.  In their way these kiosks have changed little. To quote another famous retailer the simple approach was to “pile 'em high and sell 'em cheap.”  There is here everything the train traveller might want, need or just be seduced into buying.   So, there are piles of books, pencils, crayons, what look like paint brushes, and piles of books and magazines, including the latest issue of the Strand Magazine with a story by P.G.Woodhouse.

And as ever it is the adverts that draw you into the period.  Amateur Garden at 2d, with articles on "Bedding Plants, Dahlia Culture and Melons and Tomatoes" which underlines the growing leisure time that some of our new residents could enjoy.  But for me it is the WHS Pen in its smart case that intrigues me along with the ad “BOOKS WE’D LIKE TO BURN”

These old fashioned kiosks on stations have pretty much vanished as railway stations become just long empty and soulless platforms where even the waiting room is now a glass sided box.

But they live on in other places.

At the bottom of the road in Varese close by our usual bus stop is just such a kiosk where everything seems available, including English magazines and hard by the station is an even busier one which has the added bonus of a taxi rank next door.

Pictures; from the Lloyd collection and the collection of Andrew Simpson

Ghosts ....... a different Camp Street

Now I am fairly confident that this picture of Camp Street will not chime with many people.

Camp Street, 1966

It is still there, running from Deansgate down to Lower Byrom Street, but the properties which stretched along it, and the streets to the south which included Severn Street and Eltoft, have all gone.

The area was redeveloped in the late 1960s and early 1970s and that consigned all of those streets as well as Dumville and Gillow Street pretty much to the memories of those that lived here, and on old maps, and pictures.

I often walk what is left, but that older network of narrow streets and old buildings was unknown to me.

Leaving me just to use the the OS map of 1951 as a guide.

Cam[p Street, 1951

Although I am confident that friends like Alan will soonoffer up their own memories.

Location; Camp Street, 1960, and 1951

Picture; Camp Street, 1960, and 1951  "Courtesy of Manchester Archives+ Town Hall Photographers' Collection", https://www.flickr.com/photos/manchesterarchiveplus/albums/72157684413651581?fbclid=IwAR0t6qAJ0-XOmfUDDqk9DJlgkcNbMlxN38CZUlHeYY4Uc45EsSMmy9C1YCk 

200 Upper Brook Street ...... a life style choice and a mystery

Now I have become fascinated by the pictures from 200 Upper Brook Street which were taken in 1968.

I had hoped that I might be able to report on who lived there the year the pictures were taken.

That search led to the 1969 street directory which was the last to be published.

But alas by the time the list was compiled the last residents had moved out and the whole of the stretch of Upper Brook Street from Brunswick Street to Grafton Street were devoid of occupied properties.

So in the fullness of time I will return to Central Ref to explore the earlier directories and I suspect the property will have been in use as flats which were how Mrs Moseley was making a living back in 1911.

So for now it is the rooms and that living room.  I doubt that today there will be many houses which still have this heavy old furniture which were probably quite old when the picture was taken.

And I rather think the combination of the armchair; settee and table in an upstairs back room suggest that in 1968 our house was still in multi occupancy.

The room with its gas fire and period wall paper remind me of so many places I spent my early years in the city.

All very familiar but what puzzles me is the bathroom.  It looks pretty ordinary and the fittings could date back beyond the Edwardian period, with that bath panel hiding the claw legs of the cast iron bath with its solid taps which look to have received the “chrome treatment”.

But the lavatory offers up a mystery, because I see no pipe connecting to the tank which held the water to flush the thing.

It’s location under the window precludes one of those tall tanks, but then the more modern variation which would be just above the seat is also missing.

So dear reader how did it work?

And that seems a good place to close, leaving me only to thank Neil Simpson who has shared the images from a new project working on the Town Hall Photographer's Collection Digitisation Project in the Central Library, which currently is volunteer led and volunteer staffed.*

The negatives in the collection are dated from 1956 to 2007 and there are approximately 200,000 negatives to be digitised at three minutes a scan.

The plan is to gradually make the scanned images available online on the Manchester Local Images Collection Website.*

So that really is it, although I do wonder just what stories there are lurking in those rooms, but of course that I guess we will never know.

Stop Press:  And as ever Neil and Bill were on hand to suggest an explanation for the mystery which is no mystery at all.

Bill writes, "Simple stuff Andrew, the high level toilet cistern is up on the left hand wall and is connected to the toilet by a lead flush pipe that curves behind that washbasin to the back of the toilet pan, a very common practice where a window is above. 

The bath is not cast iron and neither does it have a panel. 

It is a pressed steel enamel coated bath, a cheaper and light weight alternative to cast iron and plastic of course was not available then. I have fitted and in later years ripped out many of these."

Location; Manchester

Picture; 200 Upper Brook Street, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass

*Manchester City Council Archives+ Town Hall Photographer's Collection Flickr Album, https://www.flickr.com/photos/manchesterarchiveplus/sets/72157684413651581

Something is stirring down in Cornbrook .........

I say something but that stirring has been on the go for a decade and a bit and amounts to a sort of Renaissance for this stretch of Chester Road.

Coming into Cornbrook and on to the south and west, 2023

For many of course the name is just a stop on the Metro network, but a pretty important one given that it is a switching hub, where passengers can change for trams going into the city and then out to the eastern and northern ends of the complex, or alternatively choose destinations to south Manchester, Salford, Eccles, Trafford Centre and Altrincham.

At Cornbrook and onto Bury, 2023

And for those idly waiting for their connection the stop offers some fine views of the new residential developments which have begun to transform the area.  

Every year sees more rising from what were brown sites and echoing those earlier acres of terraced properties which vied with factories, a chemical works and the Ship Canal.

I only know the area after most of the houses and the industrial units had been cleared, leaving behind a mx of landscaped stretches which ran into just acres of wasteland, all waiting for something to happen.

And as I write I know that many of my friends will remember that older Cornbrook which fizzed  with business and have their own tales of nights in The  Railway and Pomona Palace or of stories about Pomona Docks.

New apartments, 2023

Not that there will be anyone today who can boast of visiting Pomona Gardens with its mix of attractions including “the magic bridge, Gymnasium, flying swings, bowling green, rifle shooting, romantic walks and a promenade for both adults and juveniles as well as boat trips on the Irwell.”   

 In the summer of 1850 it pulled out the stops with its “Splendid representation of the ERUPTION OF MOUNT VESUVIUS, as it occurred in 1849, the most terrific on record.”   Here was the “magnificent Bay of Naples, painted and erected by the celebrated artist Mr. A.F. Tait, and extends the whole length of the lake covering upwards of 20,000 yards of canvas and is one of the Largest ever Erected in England.” *

It had opened in the 1840s but couldn’t better its rival at Bell Vue and finally succumbed to a land grab by the Ship Canal.

All that was left of the Railway, 2003

The area takes its name from the Corn Brook which according to that excellent book The Lost Rivers of Manchester "rises in Gorton and follows a tortuous path through Manchester’s southern ‘inner city’ suburbs and empties itself into the Ship Canal at Pomona Docks”.

For anyone who as not discovered this gem of a book it is well worth reading, more so because it’s author Geoffrey Ashworth recently revised his 1987 book with additional material. 

And it will feature in the new book being written on The History of Greater Manchester by Tram which will explore that section of the network from Cornbrook via Deansgate Castlefield and onto Exchange Square. 

The first Trafford Bar to East Didsbury was published on Monday and is already proving a popular read.

It is available from Chorlton Bookshop, and from us at www.pubbooks.co.uk, price £4.99

Location; Cornbrook

Pictures; Bits of Cornbrook, 2023, from the collection of Andrew Simpson, and All that was left of the Railway, 2003, courtesy of Andy Robertson

* Slater’s Manchester & Salford Directory 1850

**Ashworth, Geoffrey, The Lost Rivers of Manchester, 1987, updated, 2023

***A new book on the History of Greater Manchester By Tram, https://chorltonhistory.blogspot.com/search/label/A%20new%20book%20on%20the%20History%20of%20Greater%20Manchester%20by%20Tram

Waiting for that fast service to Central ................ standing on the platform at Chorlton-cum-Hardy railway station

Now I am part of that generation that grew up with steam locomotives.

And I don’t mean those special heritage steam trains I mean the full on thing, when everything from the intercity express down to sedate suburban commuter links and the humble unromantic goods locos were all steam powered.

All of which makes this picture postcard of our station one to cherish particularly because there are very few of the inside of the station.

I don’t have a date for this one but it will be before 1926 when an aerial picture shows the station without the footbridge which the historian John Lloyd says was removed “to save the expense of maintaining it and the public had to use the road bridge.”**

So we have just 40 or so years to play with because the station was opened in 1880 and judging by  the quality of the picture postcard I am guessing we will be sometime in the early years of the last century.

And that quality allows you to focus in on the detail from the iron work under the bridge to the signs advising passengers to use the foot bridge to cross the tracks which proved particularly relevant after the death of Mary Jane Cockrill of Oswald Road in 1909 who was run down by "a fast train approaching the station."***

I don’t think you have to have an over vivid imagination to put yourself on that platform just over a century ago.

The place is empty save for the staff and the chap in the bowler hat who I suspect runs the kiosk, so we must be in one of those in between moments and given that there are no passenger either a train has just gone through or this is that long wait between the morning commuter rush and the evening return.

And for anyone who has ever been alone on a warm summer’s day waiting for a train the scene will be all too familiar.

There will be that silence punctuated by the odd noise from the road in the distance the clunck of a shutting engine and the sound of the platform clock.

And if you have timed it wrongly there could still be a hint of steam left from the departing train and the last solitary commuter making their way out up the approach path to Wilbraham Road.

Which means that you are left to idle the time away looking at the headlines from the newspaper posters, ponder on the promises being made by the adverts and perhaps spend a penny on that weighing machine.

Location; Chorlton-cum-Hardy, Manchester, date unknown

Picture; Chorlton-cum-Hardy Railway Station, date unknown, courtesy of Mark Fynn***

*Looking Back At Chorlton-cum-Hardy, John Lloyd, 1985

**Woman Killed at Chorlton In front of a railway train, Manchester Guardian, January 11, 1909 although to be accurate her death was a suicide

***Manchester Postcards, http://www.manchesterpostcards.com/index.html, 

40 years ago ……. Manchester pictures from the archive …….

It is a salutary lesson on the passing of time that four decades have passed since I took these pictures, with the obvious observation that heaps of those that were marching through Manchester will be retired,  and that those in the prams will have had their 40th birthdays.

A Conservative Government was presiding over a tide of rising unemployment, and was pursuing a policy of cuts in public expenditure, set against a hardening of the Cold War with the USA and the Soviet Union developing and deploying a series of new missiles capable of carrying ever more powerful nuclear war heads.

Location; Manchester

Pictures; 40 years ago ……. Manchester pictures from the archive ……. from the collection of Andrew Simpson

Watching the unthinkable ……………….. Manchester 1960

Now, as unhistorical as it is, sometimes you have to speculate on the origins of an unknown picture.

In the case of this one, the information is limited to the date it was taken which was 1960.

Other than that, it is pretty much a mystery.

I don’t know where this group of people were, or what caught their interest.

Suffice to say, it is evening judging by the overcoats, a night in the cooler months of the year.

There are two shots of the group, but no caption, and so we are left wondering.

That said in the same batch, there are a series of pictures of what looks to be a staged rescue of an injured man from a tall building, along with a few of men in uniform.

And that takes us closer to a possible explanation, because in 1960 we were in the middle of the Cold War, which was that stand off between the Soviet Union and the USA, made more deadly because both sides were engaged in arms race, which included the development of bigger and more powerful  nuclear war heads along with the delivery systems.

Added to which both sides were engaged in proxy wars, across the world, any one of which had the potential to drag the two superpowers and their allies into a nuclear confrontation.

Just eleven years earlier there had been the Berlin Blockade, followed by the formation of NATO and later the Warsaw Pact, while in 1961 tensions were further exacerbated by the construction of the Berlin War, and a year later the Cuban Missile Crisis threatened to plunge the world into a nuclear war.

All of which brings me to the conclusion that our group of people are watching a Civil Defence exercise.

The Civil Defence Corps, had been established in 1949 and was a civilian volunteer organisation whose purpose was to mobilise and take local control of an affected area in the aftermath of a major national emergency, which for most people was an attack by the Soviet Union using nuclear weapons. 

There were the obvious links to how Britain had prepared and coped during the Second World War, when many of our cities, and towns came under regular bombardment by the Germans.

And looking at the faces of the men in Civil Defence uniforms, some well have served in the Home Guard, the Auxiliary Fire Service or as Air Raid Precaution Wardens, while others may been in the armed forces.

I was ten in 1960 and much of this passed over me. B

But I do remember the short television films that showed RAF bombers taking off in under four minutes with their nuclear payload , which those of my age and older will instantly recall chimed in with the “Four Minute Warning” which was the accepted duration of the time between detecting an incoming Soviet strike and its arrival.

All of which brings me to those two counter approaches to the unthinkable.  

On one hand there was the Government line reflected in this Civil Defence poster, and on the other the comic response of Beyond the Fringe which pointed out that when Britain  receives the four minutes warning of any impending nuclear attack. Some people have said, "Oh my goodness me — four minutes? — that is not a very long time!" Well, I would remind those doubters that some people in this great country of ours can run a mile in four minutes”.

All of which might not have been lost on the people watching the Civil Defence exercise on the streets of Manchester in 1960.

Location; Manchester, 1960

Picture; Civil Defence, Manchester, 1960, 1960-3179-1, -3179-51960-3179.8, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass and a civil defence poster produced in 1957 by the Central Office of Information (INF 2/122)Civil Defence is Common Sense, National Archives, https://www.nationalarchives.gov.uk/education/resources/fifties-britain/civil-defence-common-sense/

To keep or throw away things ..... that tell a story

It’s one of those fault lines running through our house.  

I have a tendency to collect which if truth be known is just hoarding and there are others who relentlessly declutter.  It is that age old dilemma of which pieces of paper to keep to throw away?  Now I know it is easier now with paperless bills and emails but it remains a problem for me.

Not only do I have the entire collection of Beano’s from 1985 to 97, assorted runs of Look and Learn but during the 90s I went back and began buying whole volumes of the Eagle comic, which I first read in 1957.
More importantly there are the family documents, nothing I grant you as grand as a signed letter from minor royalty or the plans drawn up by Capability Brown for a new garden estate.  Ours are more down to earth.

They include wartime letters faded photographs and quite a few negatives which I reckon haven’t seen daylight for over 80 years and lots more.  Earlier I wrote about the family identity cards and today I want to share a medical certificate which I guess my father had to possess so that he could carry on working.

It is the International Certificate of Vaccination or Revaccination against small pox issued by the Ministry of Health.  Now I haven’t found out yet which European countries required it but as dad worked across Western Europe it could have been any one of many.  Or it may just have been that because of the outbreak of smallpox here in Britain in 1962 our neighbours naturally enough wanted to be sure he was free of the disease.

And smallpox was still a killer.  Today through the efforts of the World Health Organisation it has been eliminated, but in the early 20th century stretching back into time it was both feared and dreaded.  At best it could leave an infected person terribly disfigured and of course often proved fatal.

Now I remember the 1962 outbreak only because were vaccinated as were thousands of children across the country. Now like all these things there is a blog devoted to the outbreak http://smallpox1962.wordpress.com so I’ll let you go there to get the full story.

But had Dad not kept the certificate and had I in turn not stored it away there would be no record of the impact on the disease on my family.

Not perhaps great page turning history, but history.

Pictures; Certificate of vaccination, 1962, from the collection of Andrew Simpson