Growing up in Eltham in the 1950s ......... stories by Eddy Newport no 13 ..... gettiing married

Another in the series by Eddy Newport taken from his book, The Newport’s 1951 at No. 58 Rochester Close Kidbrooke SE3...........

I married Janet Paice from Plumstead in St Barnabas Church Well Hall and the reception at the Rochester Way Social Club.

The day started well and I was worried that our suitcases might be tampered with. (We were honeymooning at a Butlins hotel in Margate.) I decided to take the cases to Woolwich Arsenal station and leave them in the left luggage office for safekeeping.

The job was done and was now looking forward to the wedding.

I met my brother David (best man) at the back door of the church and went in, failing to realize that the photographer was waiting to take the usual groom and best man shots outside the church. He thought we had not shown up. He was in panic mode. By the time he found us, it was too late. The bride was on her way.

Then the weather changed, it rained, and it rained at exactly the time the bride was entering the church it came down in buckets. The bridesmaids got soaked. In the rush to get into the Church the hoops supporting Janet’s dress were bent out of shape and the dress was misshapen. Janet was not pleased.

The bridesmaids came down the aisle looking like drowned rats. Just as Janet got to me at the altar she said, through clenched teeth. “The bloody hoops are bent”.

The day was off to a bad start. The service went well and during the blessing, the sound of the rain beating on the church windows and roof almost drowned out the service. I realized that it would not be a good idea for the photos to be taken outside the church. So after some discussion, it was decided to get the guest to the reception hall as soon as possible. The rain was relentless. Hair styles were ruined and dresses were soaked. .

The reception was held at the Rochester Way Workingman’s Club in a hall above the club, which, as luck would have it had a stage. So it seemed a good idea to use the stage as a backdrop for the photos.

Unfortunately, the caterers thought we were ready to start eating and wanted to serve the soup. We managed to stop them and asked then to hold off until all the photos were taken.

The photographer had no idea how to control this type of event. Nothing had prepared him for anything like this. Chaos ruled with lots of advice coming from various members of the family as to who should be standing with whom and where.

Subsequently, the resulting photos look like the final curtain call of a very large stage production (see below). Janet and I felt we were standing somewhere at the back of somebody else's wedding and in the photos it’s hard to see the bride and groom.                  


The band turned up and the evening got under way with everybody having a great time. Later we decided to leave for our honeymoon.

So with the usual goodbyes and to the sound of “For they are jolly good fellows” off we went. We were taken to Woolwich station only to find that the man who had the only keys to the left luggage room had gone home’ and nobody could open it to get our cases out. By this time Janet flipped.

She had the station master the ticket man and the ported in a row and explained to them in no uncertain terms what she thought of British Railways and their left luggage office. Janet by this time was not speaking to me, as what seemed a good idea at the time was in retrospect a rather bad one.

Under no account was she going on her honeymoon without her cases. We were told that we could pick them up in the morning (Sunday) at about 9:00 when the man with the keys was back on duty. So after calming Janet down, we decided to go back to the party and work out what to do next.

When we got back we caused quite a stir with lots of people offering us their house for the night. This was just too embarrassing for words. So we decided to go back to our new flat with the bed still unwrapped, No food and all the cooking utensils still wrapped up as wedding presents. The family rallied round and we were supplied with tea and food for breakfast.

I had a secret worry. Inside my case were a few packs of contraceptives. The pill was still in its infancy and not as popular as it is today. Also, the condom slot machine had not been invented yet. So I discreetly asked my male friends if they could oblige me with a pack of three. I even went out with Tim to find a late opening chemist shop but no such luck.

I was getting desperate until my new wife's uncle slipped me a pack and said. "Have this as a wedding present from me." To this day, I never understood why he would have a pack of three with him.

We decided to stay right up to the end of the evening and were, in fact, the last ones to leave the hall. Our friends Tim and Maureen took us back to our flat and helped us assemble the bed. The next day we finally went off, collected our cases and caught the train the Margate.

Spot the bride and groom on the stage at Rochester Way Social Club Eltham.  Looking; at this photo now. I can’t help noticing how everybody looks so pensive and fed up.


© Eddy Newport 2017

Pictures from the collection of Eddy Newport

Growing up in Eltham in the 1950s ......... stories by Eddy Newport no 12 ..... following my friend to Crawley and beyond.

Another in the series by Eddy Newport taken from his book, History of a War Baby.

Crawley, 2007

My friend Peter Sales (lived in Tilbrook Rd) had moved to Crawley in Surrey with his family as his dad had started a new job there.

Crawley was a new town development with new council house estates and coupled with plenty of jobs encourage Londoners to move out and start a new life in these towns. Stevenage, Harlow, Milton Keynes were some of them.

Peter and I were friends out of school as we lived very near to each other. We would spend time just talking sitting on his front doorstep and I got to know his mum who would give us drinks.

I was going to miss him when he left and it was suggested that I go and visit him during the summer once he had moved down there.

The summer of 1955 and on my own with a road map and some sandwiches I set out. This was going to be the longest cycle journey I was to undertake ever, and I was a little apprehensive to what was lying ahead of me.

The journey took me onto the A20 down Wrotham Hill to join the A25.  I went through Seal, Sevenoaks, Westerham, Redhill, and Reigate. Pass the new Gatwick airport and finally, on to Crawley I must have been in the saddle for about three hours.

To me, this was a horrendous trip and by the time I got to Peter’s house I was knackered. Peter was pleased to see me and after a quick meal, Pete wanted us to go to Brighton on our bikes.

Woolwich, 1950s

Another bike ride was not what I had in mind, but I did not have the bottle to say no as Pete had made up his mind that this is what we were going to do. So on our bikes we went and cycled down the A23 for another 30 miles to Brighton.

How I did that journey I do not know to this day. Once we got there, Peter had the bright idea to go on the roller skating rink and we had a session. After a while, we rode back to Crawley and finally, I got to bed. I was really knackered by this time.

The next day we spent some time exploring the local area and said my goodbyes and cycled back home to Kidbrooke.

I never took that trip again as I was not sure if Peter would put me through all that again. I did not see Peter until many years later when my wife Jo and I were invited to his 60th birthday party in Crawley in 2000. Since then Pete and I have been pen pals via the internet, he now resides in Florida USA. I asked him for any memories he had of the Poly and this is his reply.

The following is an extract from his letter. January 2006.

Woolwich, 1950s

“I had to leave Woolwich Poly early. I can’t say I was ever ‘athletic’ as a boy. I remember well doing that weekly run around Well Hall, at the Poly’s sports ground; starting down Westhorne Ave., through the alley by the railway line and past the Well Hall park area.  I also did play Rugby for a while as a wing three-quarter. I was even roped into a hockey team for a short time.  

Yes, Sid Sillett and I were in the same class. I regret that I was a lazy student; easily distracted and became one of the ‘terrible four’, comprising Sid, Leonard Borrow and Fred Dolling. We were always mucking about and getting into trouble. 

If you remember we were in the Poly ‘extension’ on the opposite side of Powis Street and the main building.  If you came out the gate and turned right there was a ‘sweet shop’ on the corner which was strictly ‘out-of-bounds’ during school hours. The only time I was caned was the day we broke that rule, and got caught!

If I remember correctly, we had a teacher called Mr. Bird. {Me” Mr Bird was, in fact, Mr Starling ‘Birdie’ was his nickname”} He was a little weak on discipline and we made life miserable for him with bird whistles’ and other rude noises!

Probably my worst ‘prank’ was at the end of one term, which you remember was traditionally a day off (after making that cycle or bus ride to school for assembly).

Woolwich, 1950s

The ‘terrible four’ decided we would take a look around the store Cuff’s right on the corner of Powis Street.  One of us shoplifted a water pistol much to the shock of the others, and of course, the idea of us all grabbing the same so we could enjoy squirting water at each other became paramount. 

As I remember the first three were easy pickings, but number four needed a careful diversion – the operation was successful.  

We played around all day and I remember that on the way home my prime concern was “I can’t take this pistol into the house as Mum will want to know where it came from?”   

The pistol was either thrown away or stored somewhere – can’t remember but I always regretted that incident and feel guilty about it to this day!”

I remembered another story at, or at least outside the Poly. At lunchtimes, the terrible 4 would sometimes catch the Woolwich ferry one way and walk back under the Thames in that pedestrian tunnel.

It was around Guy Fawkes that I remember we were walking in the tunnel when, if I remember rightly, Leonard Borrow actually let off a 'banger' in the tunnel.  The resulting explosion was amazing and the few people in the tunnel 'ran for their lives', including us.  How we got away with that I just don't know – we ran up the stairs to avoid the lift attendant and caught the boat back.
Peter Sales

The last year at the Poly was the best. I was doing well and at last, the teachers starting to treat us as if we were adults and school was a more relaxing experience.  We got on with our homework and put in the effort.

By this time the examinations came round I was put in for the First Year National Certificate and a few Royal Society of Arts examinations. I passed most of them but failed English and Maths. The Nat. Cert. was the most important to me as it was now a dead cert that I would get my apprenticeship at Kolster Brands. I had an appointment with the firm towards the end of the summer and duly left school in 1956.

As nothing was going to happen for a few months dad had found me a job to go for. He said “If you think you are going to lounge around all summer then you better think again”. and followed up with” I want you to start work, now!”

Another in the series by Eddy Newport taken from his book, The Newport’s 1951 at No. 58 Rochester Close Kidbrooke SE3...........


© Eddy Newport 2017

Pictures;Queen's Square, Crawlwy, 2007, Hassocks5489 at English Wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crawley and Woolich in the 1950s, Beresford Square, date unknown courtesy of Steve Bardrick

Growing up in Eltham in the 1950s ......... stories by Eddy Newport no 11 ..... .Neighbours and friends, and holidays at the Kent coast.

Another in the series by Eddy Newport taken from his book, History of a War Baby.

Living on the other side of the path that separated the bungalows was Mrs May Brooks and her son Bill.

She was very often popping in to see mum for a chat. Her husband had left her for another woman, and she was very bitter about the way she was treated.

She was obviously lonely and needed to talk to somebody about her life. Mum was a great listener and did not have the heart to send her away. She would come over at some inconvenient time and it seemed to me that she was always there.

To me, she was a serial moaner and went on and on. As she came into the house I went out. To be fair, she was good hearted and Mum liked her. Her only redeeming feature to me was her son Bill. Bill was about 23 and he played the piano in a musical act with a guitar player.

They did gigs and shows all over London and the South East as semi-professional musicians. I never went to see them play as a group. They sang and played in close harmony and were, by most, considered to be a class act.  I am not sure but their stage name was “The Bell Tones.”  (I Think).

At Christmas time, mum and dad would invite May over in the evening to join us, and if Bill was around he would come too.  Now dad’s playing on our piano was not very inspiring but when Bill sat down to play I was overwhelmed by the power and excitement of his playing on our upright. I was so amazed that our piano could produce the sound he got from it.

The music bug hit me hard and set the spark that would lead me into the wonderful world of musicians later on in my life.  Bill went and worked at the Telecom factory with dad and ended up a manager.

The other side next to us was the Stark family and they had a daughter Olive and a younger son Peter. Olive was the same age as David and so he became a playmate of hers. Olive’s dad had his own business.

He was in the clothing trade and they were a lot better off than us; he had a motor car and a caravan at Seasalter in Kent.

They became good friends of mum and dad and in the summer they would let us have the use of the caravan for a week to have a holiday.  We had many holidays at Seasalter and Mr Stark would take us down and bring us back in his car, I think it was a Riley to me a very exciting trip.

We would go down into Kent on the A2. On reaching Rochester and going across the Rochester Bridge, we had pointed out the castle, the cathedral and the flying boats moored in the river at the Shorts aircraft factory.

Once we got to Seasalter we settle in and start having fun. Mum and Dad were very fond of cockles and Seasalter was famed for them. Dad, David and I would go out with a bucket and as the tide went out we would gather them up and bring them back to be cooked in a big pot.

With a drop of vinegar and pepper, Mum and Dad would tuck into a feast. The evenings were spent walking around with mum and dad stopping by at the local pub “The Blue Anchor” for a drink, David and I would sit outside with our lemonade and packets of Smiths crisps.

Then it was back to the caravan and to bed. Those days were to me, wonderful, hot summers and a sense of freedom to do just what you liked.

A day at the seaside 1947

The photo shows the Newport's on holiday at Pegwell Bay, with me aged 15 growing up with a crew -cut haircut and thinking that I knew it all.

Mother with the box brownie camera.

© Eddy Newport 2017

Picture; from the collection of Eddy Newport

Growing up in Eltham in the 1950s ......... stories by Eddy Newport no 10 .... night school dancing lessons and a mission accomplished

Another in the series by Eddy Newport taken from his book, History of a War Baby.

I went to a night school in Briset Road that was very near to where I lived.

The school was opened in the evenings and I enrolled to join the dance, table tennis, and radio classes.

These evenings were a good social and educational outlet. I built a valve radio and it worked much to my amazement.

The class I looked forward to was the dancing and it was held upstairs in the top hall. Our dancing teacher would teach us how to dance the quickstep, foxtrot and waltz just enough to get by at a social dance. We were not into taking medals examinations. We had a pianist who played for the dancer’s as well as a record player. The music was on old seventy-eight RPM records. Victor Sylvester and Jo Loss dance bands were the most popular.

During the breaks, some pupils had brought their own pop records to play Rock and Roll and we developed our own versions of the jive, this was much to the annoyance of the teacher who thought it was never going to catch on.

At the end of the term, we had a dance on a Saturday night. I got a ticket for Terry [Schoolmate] and off we went to the dance dressed up in our suits and ties and shiny shoes. The four piece band consisted of our regular pianist with a drummer, trumpet and saxophone player.

These guys played all the dances we had learnt and we had a great time with the girls dancing the night away.

During the evening, the band attempted to play some rock and roll and we had the opportunity to show off our new dance. I was far too shy to ask a girl out and never did, but later on, I was happy to know how to dance properly.

The photo shows the Newport's on holiday at Pegwell Bay, with me aged 15 growing up with a crew -cut haircut and thinking that I knew it all.

Mother with the box brownie camera.

© Eddy Newport 2017

Picture; from the collection of Eddy Newport

Growing up in Eltham in the 1950s ......... stories by Eddy Newport no 9 .... new friends and Count Basie

Another in the series by Eddy Newport taken from his book, History of a War Baby.

My stay at the Gordon school was to last for two years.

New friends were made during which I met a boy who was to make a big influence on me David Burt. He had a freckled face and a mop of red hair. He and I became best friends and socialised outside of school.

We would cycle off into the country to explore fields and places sometimes visiting members of his family who lived in Plumstead.

David introduced me to the habit of smoking. He had an uncle who played the drums in a band called Cyril Bodkin’s and his dance orchestra.

My interest in drumming was rekindled as David’s uncle played records by Count Basie, Benny Goodman and Duke Ellington. Duke Ellington’s “Skin Deep” with Louie Bellson playing the drums was a firm favourite.

That was just the best there was in classic jazz drumming. Buddy Rich and Gene Krupa both highly acclaimed drummers in America and an inspiration to any budding drummer. These moments were to spark an interest in jazz that was going to stay with me for the rest of my life.

© Eddy Newport 2017

Picture; from the collection of Eddy Newport

Growing up in Eltham in the 1950s ....stories by Eddy Newport ......no 8 a bike, a paper round and King Alfred's cakes

Another in the series by Eddy Newport taken from his book, History of a War Baby.

My paper round was going strong and I wanted a new bike, the fashion then was light weight frames narrow wheels and drop handlebars. Dad took me to a cycle shop in Woolwich and I chose a BSA Armstrong sports model colour red and black with Stymie Archer gears.

If cost about £25 and dad put a £1 down and signed the hire purchase forms and said I had to pay the monthly payments. I had by then changed my paper round employee to a man who ran a business from his garage in Ross Way,

I was on a wage of 9 shillings and sixpence a week (£0.755 pence). My new bike was to cost me six shillings (£0.30 pence) a week so I was still in profit.

The bike took me two years to be pay off with interest. Every week I would go into the shop and pay it. That bike was to take me all over the place and play an important part of my life.

Experiences at Ealdham Square:-
Also, my artistic appreciation started to be stimulated as we were subjected to various musical enlightenments from our music teacher Miss Skelton.

She was very fond of choirs and classical music, and would have the class sit down on the floor in the assembly hall and play to us 78 RPM records.

She also had a habit of keeping a handkerchief in her knickers and her hand would creep under her dress and pull out the hanky to blow her nose.

This habit to us children was fascinating and a snigger went round the class when she did this. She was very fond of the Welsh male voice choir singing “The Lamb of God” We had to learn it to sing at the Christmas parents evening. One year our class had to put on a performance to entertainer the parents.

Our form teacher Mr Evens decided to get our class to act out “King Alfred the Great” and the burnt cakes saga.

The bulk of the class were to be the chorus and various pupils were selected to play the main roles. It was based on a famous poem which told the story of Alfred losing his kingdom to the evil Danes and in retreat, he forgo his kingly robes and put on peasant's clothes and went off on his own whereby he met a peasant family.

The woman of the household instructed Alfred to look after the fire where some cakes were cooking. Unfortunately, he fell asleep and the cakes were burnt.

He incurred the wrath of the woman and she chased him out of here home. I did not understand the significances of all this and what it had to do with Alfred suddenly decided to make up with the evil Danes, but that’s how the play came to an end and we all took our bows. I was a member of the chorus until I was thrust to stardom when Richard Atkins (the lead player) went sick and could not perform it for the parents evening.

Mr Evens asked if any of the class knew the lead part I put up my hand and was to take over the role with only one rehearsal to do the main performance. So I was King Alfred and did (I thought) a flawless performance.

Stage fright and overcoming the nerves were all there. But when the applause died down and we took our bows the feeling of excitement and exhilaration was wonderful.

I was stage-struck. It was to be forty years before I was to perform on a stage again. Richard came back to perform the play in front of the school children and to my delight, he forgot his lines and had to rely on Mr Evens prompting him.

© Eddy Newport 2017

Picture; from the collection of Eddy Newport

Growing up in Eltham in the 1950s ......... stories by Eddy Newport no 6 a garden, some vegetables and the rabbit

Another in the series by Eddy Newport taken from his book, History of a War Baby.

Dad became a keen gardener and worked hard to establish a well laid out garden.

He built paths around the bungalow and elevated the   lawn, as the garden was about a hundred foot long he cultivated a vegetable patch at its far end.

I would try and help out, but when it came to digging I managed to drive a garden fork through my boot and luckily the prong went between my toes.

Dad grew mostly potatoes and cabbage.

He did keep some rabbits for a while in a hutch behind our shed.

This was fine until he decided to have one killed for the pot. He could not do it himself, so a friend came round in to do the dispatching. I was fascinated by this. The friend went out to get the rabbit and holding it by its ears did the rabbit chop to the back of its neck. It was not a clean kill and the rabbit made some noise.

Eventually, it was declared dead and brought it into the kitchen where he started to skin it. I was amazed as the organs that appeared from the animal also the blood being collected into a basin. I was not horrified to all this just fascinated by it all. I think it upset Mum and Dad as he soon got rid of the all the rabbits.

© Eddy Newport 2017

Picture; from the collection of Eddy Newport

Growing up in Eltham ......... stories by Eddy Newport ...... no 5 a new home, a baby brother and a new Queen

Another in the series by Eddy Newport taken from his book, The Newport’s 1951 at No. 58 Rochester Close Kidbrooke SE3...........

Mum

Mother was a woman that everybody wanted to have as a friend. She had an open house for anyone to visit and many did for cups of tea and chats. During that time, her work was cut out with her two boys. Shopping expeditions were to the local parade of shops about a mile away along the Rochester Way.

There was a public house there called “The Dover Patrol” So going shopping there was referred to as “Going up the Dover”.

No such things as supermarkets, these were for the future. The main grocery store was called Perks Ltd and you could get all you wanted, provided you queued up for it. Everything had to be weighed out and put into paper bags.

There was still rationing and our ration books had to have the coupons cut out so to prove that you had had your quota. There was a baker, butcher, hardware, newsagent, fish and chip shop, off-licence and a drapers shop all in a row. One thing I will never forget was the smell of the hardware shop; it was a mixture of paraffin, tar and detergents all mixed together and unforgettable."

I was settling into Ealdham Square School and David was soon to follow. It was soon realised that Rochester Close was not going to be big enough for a growing family. It was possible under the London County Council that tenants could exchange properties if all was agreeable. In the area, there were a lot of council houses being built. Dad and Mum put in for an exchange and managed to do a deal with an older couple living at 98 Birdbrook Rd. And so we moved once more the year was 1951.

The eleven plus examinations were looming the King had died we had a new Queen and her coronation was a near future event. Life was going to change.

Dad

Once we had moved into our new home at number 98 we soon settled down. The big news of the day was the coronation of Elizabeth II at Westminster Abbey on June 2nd, 1952. Dad being in the Saint John’s Ambulance Brigade had a duty to attended to.

He was to stand outside Westminster Abbey. He had a fantastic view of the all that went on. We had befriended our new next door neighbours Mr and Mrs Parsons who had a television set and on the day, we were invited in to see the unfolding events.

Mrs P had set up benches in two rows for the children to sit on. I found the whole thing very boring, the only time it became exciting was when in the distance a black uniformed man with a white bag over his shoulder came into view. He said later that the only causalities he had that day were trying to sober up drunken Lords sipping their hip flasks during the service.

Note:- this photo was taken in the garden of 58 RC. in the background is the main road Rochester Way, that house is still the. taken 1952

Geoffrey born 27th Oct 1951.  Now we are five.

Life carried on in this way until 1951 when another addition was added to our family. On Oct 27th, our brother Geoffrey Alan was born. That night David and I were woken by a lot of activity and told to stay in our beds.

Geoffrey aged 8 months

The midwife was sent for and later a baby was heard crying. We were summoned to our parent’s bedroom and introduced to Geoff. Weighing in at 6 lbs. Mum looked pleased and dad was so proud to have witnessed the birth.

The prefab we lived in was Geoff’s birthplace and is now an open space area (Kidbrooke Green).

I went back some time ago to try and judge the spot where we had our bungalow. I came to the conclusion that if Geoff ever became famous and the country wanted to put up a blue plaque where he was born, they would have to nail it to a park bench.


Mum used to ask Dave and me to do the shopping and take Geoff in the pram to carry it in. I hated this chore.

The embarrassment of pushing the pram was horrendous to me, so I would push it out in front of and let it freewheel for about 10 yards and when I caught up with it I pushed it out again. This was fine until the pram hit an obstruction and it tipped over and Geoff did a somersault on his rains and all the shopping went over the pavement.  It worried me at the time as was relieved that Geoff was strapped into the pram and did not sustain any injury. However, I did not do that again.

I was settling into Ealdham Square School and David was soon to follow.

It was soon realised that Rochester Close was not going to be big enough for a growing family. It was possible under the London County Council that tenants could exchange properties if all was agreeable. In the area, there were a lot of council houses being built. Dad and Mum put in for an exchange and managed to do a deal with an older couple living at 98 Birdbrook Rd.

And so we moved once more.  The year was 1951. The eleven plus examinations were looming the King had died we had a new Queen and her coronation was a near future event. Life was going to change.

© Eddy Newport 2017

Picture; from the collection of Eddy Newport

Growing up in Eltham in the 1950s ......... stories by Eddy Newport no 4 at the bottom of our garden

The Government Training Centre is now the Nelson Mandela housing estate. 

You can see in in the background of my family photo. That was taken in the garden of the bungalow

.At the bottom of our garden was a large fence, the other side of it was a Government Training Centre.

An establishment set up by the government to help men after the war to get some qualifications to acquire skilled jobs like plumbing carpenters, electricians, gas fitters and hairdressing.

The later being the most popular with the local establishment. Volunteers were asked to be victims to the trainees for practicing their hair cutting skills. On Saturdays, the children were allowed in to have their haircuts.

We would queue up at the gate and then taken through to the large room with all the prospective barbers would be waiting. Depending on who you got, and how much experience he had, you either had a good or bad hair cut.

All this was for free so our parents did not worry, too much, as to how us kids looked like when they came home".

© Eddy Newport 2017

Picture; from the collection of Eddy Newport

Growing up in Eltham in the 1950s ......... stories by Eddy Newport no 3 Lassie and 58 Rochester Close

Another in the series by Eddy Newport taken from his book, History of a War Baby.

This photo shows the garden of 58 Rochester Close. My brother David and next door neighbours daughter Olive Stark, who was the same age as David.

The dog was our pet Lassie and her pups. How she came to join our family is related below.


Dad was still working in Greenwich and cycled to work every day. One day on his way home he was followed by a stray dog. It turned out to be a wire-haired terrier bitch.

Dad brought her into the house and fed her. It was a mystery as to where she came from. He took her to the police station in Eltham and reported her as a stray. She was not claimed by anyone and so she became an addition to our family.

We named her Lassie. She went with us everywhere. We loved her she had a lovely nature, but she also had the roaming instinct and a couple of time we lost her, but because she had a name tag on her collar we got her back.  She had three lots of puppies at various times from different dogs. Dad had to find homes for all of the pups which he did.

Dad about this time enrolled me in the Cub Scouts. The scout hall was adjacent to the church of St James’s in Kidbrooke Park Road. St James’s church had a very tall spire but was bombed during the war and was just a shell of a building.

Next door was a prefabricated building which was used for the services. Mum had Geoffrey christened there and once we reached a suitable age David and I were sent off to the Sunday school.

What I remember of my time in the cubs was good. I enjoyed the games and I was taught a lot of necessary things to get a badge to sew onto my green jersey.

I managed to become a sixer which meant I had two silver stars on my cap. I felt confident and important and good about myself. That was until I went up into the scouts proper and I could not handle the bullying and complexity of what I had to learn there so I left and that was the end of my scouting days.

© Eddy Newport 2017

Picture; from the collection of Eddy Newport

Growing up in Eltham in the 1950s ......... stories by Eddy Newport No 2 School and things

Another  in the series by Eddy Newport taken from his book, History of a War Baby.

After my spell in the infants I moved onto the primary school. At this school my reading improves and things started to make sense. I received my first caning from the headmaster. He was a formidable man very tall and had a bald head. He took the morning assembly and we all had to stand and listen to him making his announcements.

During this time, a boy in the row in front broke wind and I and two others thought this to be very funny and started to giggle.

Mr Froom stopped speaking and pointing to us three and were told to get out and wait outside his office. Off we went, very embarrassed, and waited with a sense of fear, as to what was going to happen to us.

Soon he came along and called us into his office and proceeded to tell us off for making a disruption in assembly. He then took out of a cupboard a long thin cane. He asks us to hold out our right hand and with a quick swish and a pain I shall never forget, got a full strike on the palm. Then he did the same to the left hand.

When we got back to our class we started to cry. I went home that night and told my mum and she sent me to bed as a further punishment. I learnt then, that if at any time I got into trouble, I did not tell Mum or Dad about it.

I was punished a few more times whilst I was at that school. One teacher was very fond of the slipper across the backside, and that was really painful. I made some very good friends at Ealdham Square.  My reading was improving and my education started to gel."

© Eddy Newport 2017

Location; Eltham

Picture; from the collection of Eddy Newport

The Newport’s 1951 at No. 58 Rochester Close Kidbrooke SE3.................

Growing up in Eltham in the 1950s ......... stories by Eddy Newport no 1 .... school and things

The first in a series by Eddy Newport taken from his book, History of a War Baby.

Schooling for me was at first at Henwick Road School, which was the other side of the main A2 Rochester Way, a very busy road.

Mother was not happy for me to go there as it was dangerous crossing the road. I went there for a few weeks but mum managed to get me into Ealdham Square infants School in Eltham.

It was about a twenty minutes’ walk from home, but I did not have to cross any major roads on the way. Ealdham Square was built in the middle of a council housing estate and at a guess was constructed around 1930.

I started in the nursery and thought it strange that we had to have a sleep in the afternoon. Fold up beds were put out and with a blanket, we were supposed to nod off for an hour.

I had far too much energy to do that and I hated it. No way could I fall asleep so I just had to stay there and wait until the hour to end. My concentration on lessons was poor and reading and writing was a mystery to me.

I and a friend went on our bikes for a ride to Woolwich one day. Going there, we had to pass the parade ground of the Royal Artillery with its huge expanse of green and a funny named road called Ha Ha Road.

I found that this it is what a sunken ditch is called to act as a barrier but it did not disturb the view as a fence would. Going past the RA parade ground, we saw the Garrison theatre famous for variety shows during the war.

Following the road into the town centre, we arrived at the ferry terminal. We paid our toll and pushing our bikes we went on board. The ferry was a steam driven paddle boat and it was a big thrill to see the big pistons pushing the paddles wheels round.

The river was very polluted then and when the wheels started to churn up the water the smell was bad. Getting to the other side, we headed east along the river until we reached the northern entrance of the Blackwall tunnel.

The tunnel at that time was a single carriageway with traffic passing each other and very dangerous for a cyclist to ride through. However, we went through and when a London bus passed you there was not a lot of room between its wheels and the kerb. Then it was riding back to Kidbrooke via Blackheath. When dad found out we did this trip I got a severe telling off not to do it again."

Back In 1951, when I was 10, mum and dad took David and I to London to see the Festival of Britain along the South Bank. The space age exhibits were very impressive. They had the Dome of Discovery and the Skylon, this was a cigar shape tube pointing towards the sky and supported on cables. It looked to me like a space ship about to be blasted off.

The Shot tower was used to make the lead shot for muskets and shotguns. This was done by pouring molten lead from the top of the tower and letting to fall into a water tank at the base to produce lead pellets.

The Festival Hall was an impressive building and had been built to be used by the performing arts, and it was to become the newest venue for classical and pop concerts. This is the only building left from that exhibition still in use today.

© Eddy Newport 2017

Location; Eltham

Pictures; from the collection of Eddy Newport

*The Newport’s 1951 at No. 58 Rochester Close Kidbrooke SE3.................