The Morecambe Flip …… and other stories

Memories of the Milk Maid in Piccadilly will fast be fading from living memories.

The Milk Maid, 1906

Mine is sitting in the Milk Maid looking out onto the bus station with the gardens beyond.

It specialized in milk shakes, along with frothy coffee and sweet things.

The bar was light, spacious and had a figure of a milk maid picked out on the tiled side wall.

I doubt many others will remember the place.

Or so I thought but over the last few days people have messaged me with their own fond memories.  “Pancakes”, “frothy coffee” and “wonderful ice creams”, seem to be uppermost in what many remember, along with calling in after shopping or waiting to get the bus home. 

And for one it was “tomato soup with a swirl of cream followed by a cake” which characterized the place.

We frequented it in the early 1970s, usually after a day at the College of Knowledge on Aytoun Street.  What we had is lost in time, but I guess it would have been during my frothy coffee period.

I do remember the tiled figure of the giant milk maid.

Just when it opened and when it closed I have yet to discover and I still travel in hopes that someone will have a picture.

So far, I have not found an image of the place, but yesterday an old Union colleague phoned to tell me about The Morecambe Flip which was another of the Milk Maid’s specialities which was a pancake served with shrimps in a sauce.  Now Ray is from Morecambe and couldn’t resist asking if the shrimps were Morecambe Shrimps.  I think he already knew the answer which was confirmed when the member of staff just looked back with an expression of incomprehension.

The Golden Egg, circa 1960s

But he got me thinking again about little history, those events and memories which can claim no great place in history.  They are not high matters of state, earth shattering discoveries or the reverberations of war or natural disasters which roll down the generations.

Instead, they are the trivial recollections of the lives we have led.

They can be seeing the old Queen’s coronation on the telly, remembering exactly where you were at the news of the death of President Kennedy or Ottis Reading, or that first date which turned into a long and happy relationship.

And behind those memories are the bits of our own collective history.

The Ceylon Tea Centre, undated

So, in the case of the Milk Maid I am fairly convinced that it was run on behalf of the Milk Marketing Board, one of the state agencies set up to promote British agriculture alongside the Egg Marketing Board. 

Back then plenty of government agencies both here and abroad vied to entice hungry customers to sample the produce.

In St Peter’s Square there was the Ceylon Tea Centre and on Deansgate the Danish Food Centre, and across the city and beyond there were multiple UCP outlets.

It was years before I realized that UCP stood for United Cattle Products which made sense when you walked past the trays of tripe, sausages and black puddings.

The Golden Grill, Woolwich, 1979

And in the more affluent decades of the mid-20th century there were those other chains of new cafes and restaurants, from Wimpey to the Golden Egg, and out on the main roads the chain of Little Chefs.

What they all had in common was that they offered up  uniform regular dishes, the same whether you were in Scunthorpe, Manchester or London.  

Food purists might dismiss them but for a generation on the move with more money in their pockets than in previous generations they represented all that was new and exciting about the 1960s.

Of course they didn’t have the monopoly, mum would regularly go to a Lyons Tea House in the 1940s, and the Kardomah chain had been selling that blend of food, coffee and light entertainment from the early 1900s.

The lost Kardomah, South Mill Street, 2021

The Manchester Guardian in the 1950s carried several adverts for staff to work at the Market Street Café, which in 1952 was offering a successful applicant between £5-£10 for a 47 hour week, spread over 5½ days.  

No experience was required because “full training will be given”.*

All of which makes me think perhaps I will come across someone who worked at the Milk Maid and if pushed might offer up the answer to Ray's question of where the shrimps for the Morecombe Flip came from.

We shall see.

Location; anytime between 1900 and 1980

Pictures; The Milk Maid, from a 1906 picture postcard from Tuck and Son, courtesy of Tuckdb, https://tuckdb.org/  The Golden Egg menu circa 1960s, courtesy of Andy Robertson, the Ceylon Tea Centre, date unknown**, and the rival The Golden Grill, Woolwich, 1979 and the entrance to the Kardomah, South Mill Street, Manchester, 2021, from the collection of Andrew Simpson,The Kardomah, Market Street, 1958, m62093, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass 

The Kardomah, Market Street, 1958

*Wanted, Manchester Guadian, October 26, 1955

**Vernon Corea’s visits to the Ceylon Tea Centre at 22 Lower Regent Street London, https://vernoncorea.wordpress.com/tag/ceylon-tea-centre-lower-regent-street-london/

London Road …….. January 24th 1959 …………..

This remains one of my all-time favourites from Eddie Johnson’s book on Manchester Railway Termini.*

Until recently I had not got round to asking for permission to reproduce it, but after a nice conversation with Eddie, here it is.

The caption says, "London Road, January 24th, 1959.  This view at London Road presents an almost Christmas card like scene, a splendidly pictorial effect which no doubt had the operating authorities cursing.  The overhead electric catenary reveals this to be the eastern side of the station, at the end of platform 3”.

There is more, but I will leave it at that, and instead just point out for those who do not remember, or never knew, Piccadilly Railway Station was once called London Road.

And the rest is just snow, which at 73 still delights me and makes me a kid again, which of course pictures of steam engines also have the power to do.

Location; London Road, Railway Station, 1959 

Picture; London Road, Railway Station, 1959, M.S. Welch from Manchester Railway Termini

* Manchester Railway Termini, Scenes from the Past: 3 E.M. Johnson, 1987

At Manchester Airport with Les Entremets et Canapes

Now I first flew in 1982 and I have to admit I was 33 which these days is I guess quite old.

But my dad was in his mid 60s and my mum and three of my sisters never took to the air.

So by the time I walked through the doors of Manchester airport it had become a big place and today is even bigger.

I was reminded of all of this when I came across a menu for the restaurant at the airport which I think dates from either the late 1950s or early 1960s.

And right away we are in a different era, for the whole thing is in French with of course an English translation. So the Les Entremets et Canapes [sweets and savouries] consisted of 21 dishes including Parfait Ringway [Vanilla and Strawberry Ice, Cherries, Chopped Nuts, Fruit salad], Campe aux Sardines [Sardines on toast] both at 3s 6d.

There was a Guide to Culinary terms and that invitation to elegant dining with the food “cooked beside your table” which included Tournedos Ringway at 10s 6d, Poulec a la Broche at 21s and Steak Tartar for 12s 0d

There was “VIN EN CARAFE, Rouge [red] at 10s 6d, or 5s 6d and Blanc, [white] for 10s 6d or 5s 6d”

Now I am fascinated by the firm who did the catering.  This was The House of Smallmans who were based in Rushholme and in 1962 at Heald Green, and will be worth a little research.

But in the mean time I shall close with some other images of the airport in the 1950s  ranging from the restaurant to the departure lounge.

Pictures; menu cover, courtesy of Jan Crowe, and airport pictures, Manchester Restaurant, m6219, and Manchester Lunge at Passenger Check in, m62618, 1953, Courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council

Derrick Lea …… the Manchester artist comes out of the shadows

 For nearly two decades I have tried to discover the life story of Mr. Derrick Lea who painted and drew some fine pictures of Manchester, including Chorlton.

Greetings from Manchester, undated

And for most of those two decades I was unsuccessful. 

The search had turned up a conversation with some one who vaguely remembered him and an address of a property on Ryebank Road in Chorlton and because Chorlton featured in many of the pictures he produced I reasoned that he may have lived here, but that was it.

So, I used the images gave full credit to Mr. Lea and hoped that in the fulness of time I would discover more.

And that more came in the form of a series of messages from his son and daughter in law which in turn led to a meeting.

In the course of an hour and half Jon Lea shared three folders full of his dad’s work and gave me an insight into his dad’s life.

Derrick and Dorothy Lea, undated

This he followed up with a heap of scanned images of Mr. Lea’s work and this short biography.

“Derrick was an accomplished artist born in Manchester 1920 on Guy Fawkes night. His career began in the Second World War where he served n the RAF as a wireless operator in Africa. 

RAF Tabora circa 1944-46

There, having his camera stolen, he resorted to illustrating his journey across the continent where he then developed a skill for capturing landscapes and people. 

On returning, Derrick married his true love and embarked on illustration for advertising. 

Unfortunately, Derrick suffered from a brain tumour which thanks to brilliant neurosurgery, he survived and found his passion for recording his convalescence by illustrating the staff and patients at Barnes hospital and the Christie hospital.

Although ill health persisted, Derrick homed in on his commercial illustration skills and produced many fine pen and ink works mainly in the Chorlton area, these were often produced as Christmas cards as well as sold in card shops and travel outlets. 

Troops, undated

I hope to produce a web site to include all his work”. 

Young patient at the MRI, date unknown

And so, I now know so much more about Mr. Lea, and that is important because it offers up a context to his work.

All too often you come across images posted on social media, which offer no date, no location and no indication of the source.  The images are often accompanied by some vacuous comment along the lines of “Chorlton in the olden days” or “When we lived here it was different” and most banal of all, observations about how few cars there were back then.

None of which helps with understanding the image in front of you, but with the help of Jon and his wife Hazel I can now view the pictures of the Horse and Jockey, the Lloyds and the Rylands Library on Deansgate with a greater understanding of when and why the images were made.

Added to which I now have a record of Mr. Lea'a travels across Africa, his time in hospitals in the 1950s and some fine illustrations of people he encountered. 

Abdul, Billet Boy, Madagascar, 1945

Added to which I now have a greater knowledge of the man who produced them.

St Peter's Square and Cenotaph, Manchester, undated

And that can’t be bad.

Location, Manchester, Africa, 

Pictures; the work of Derrick Lea, 1943-1959, courtesy of Jon and Hazel Lea

Derrick Lea ….. the man who drew Manchester

Today I have been reunited with Mr. Derrek Lea who drew Manchester in the 1950s and 60s.

St. Ann's Square, Manchester, circa 1950s-60s

His images include many of our iconic buildings as well as Chorlton where he lived and out into the leafy suburbs.

Piccadilly, Manchester, circa 1950s-60s

His work is instantly recognisable and crops up across social media, and yet most of his pictures are not attributed, and that is a great shame.

I first came across a collection of his Chorlton and Didsbury scenes which had had been marketed as picture postcards, and a few more from a calendar and while Mr. Lea was credited I could find little about him.

From the style and the clothes and cars I guessed most were drawn into the 1950s and into the next decade, but apart from a reference in a directory to an address in Chorlton he remained an elusive fellow.

Not that it stopped me reproducing his pictures on the blog and while I credited him no one came forward to tell me more about this remarkable artist.

Until a few weeks ago when the wife of his son contacted me with "Hi Andrew - you have written a blog about my father-in-law … Derrick Lea.   His son has tried to contact you. I thought it was wonderful that someone had looked and researched the life of Derrick and I knew it would be amazing for you to actually meet Derrick's son".

Mr. Derrick Lea, undated

And it was, because Jon Lea not only filled me in on his dad’s life, but shared three albums of Derrick’s work.  They spanned his war time service with the RAF in Africa, his stay in various Manchester hospitals and of course those prints of the city.

Piccadilly, Manchester, circa 1960s

He was a prolific artist working in water colours, line drawings and prints which are accompanied with letters, official notes and his own observations and comments.

It was a smashing hour and half in which the conversation ranged over his dad’s early life, his work as a commercial artist and the question of how best to preserve the collection.

And Jon followed it up yesterday by sending over a wide selection of scanned copies of the pictures.

In return with Jon’s permission the images will be posted on the blog, and unlike some artists I have featured, Mr. Lea went out and drew and painted his pictures in situ which makes them a wonderful historic record and unique in that they are not based on photographs and so add to our knowledge.

John Rylands Library, Manchester, circa 1950s-60s

The difficulty then became what pictures to use for the first of the series.  I know I should have asked Jon and Hazel and for future stories I will approach them, but today I just chose four that resonate with me.

Leaving me just to thank Jon and Hazel for making the effort to contact me and then to share this wonderful collection.

Pictures; St Ann’s Square, Piccadilly and the John Rylands Library, circa 1950s-60

Next; Mr. Lea's life

Walking the streets of Hightown .... a full century ago

I remain in awe of those writers who can sum up someone in a few simple sentences.

Outside lavatory, Back Percival Street, 1951

Dickens could do it, and today I came across a short description of a Mrs. Poyser which is up there with the best.

It comes from the novel, Magnolia Street by Louis Golding, which was based on the streets in Hightown in Manchester during the 1920s.

These were the streets he remembered from his youth, and in particular the uneasy relationship between Jew and Gentile.

He was born in the city in 1895 to a Ukrainian-Jewish family, described his politics as “strongly to the left” and in 1938 wrote The Jewish Problem which was published as a Penguin Special.*

The Jewish Problem, 1938

The book examines the history of antisemitism, and Zionism, against the backdrop of “The Nazi Horror” and concludes with a final chapter on  “The Future”

But he was also a prolific popular novelist, and I can see why, because his description of Mrs. Poyser  who ran a grocery shop on Magnolia Street perfectly recreates one of those people we have all come across.   “The Jewish women met socially in Mrs. Poyser’s grocery shop, facing the Lamb and Lion.  

There they forgathered in between the washing up after one meal and the preparation for the next; or they called in on their way from the market, to show what a fat chicken they had picked up or how fine a silver hake for chopping and frying.

On a certain Sunday morning in May in the year 1910, there was news and news of the Mrs. Poyser’s sort.  News was, in a sense, Mrs. Poyser’s prerogative.  She weighed it, she sorted it out into bags, she handed it over the counter, along with a pair of kippers or a pound of sultanas”.**

Back Percival Street, 1951

The book, which was written in 1932, had its roots in a series of short pieces he had sent into the Manchester Guardian a decade earlier, describing life from the Jewish side of Magnolia Street which the newspaper had rejected as “nonsense”.

His response was in his own words “to mobilise the Jews on one side of the Street and the Gentiles on the other side and make of them – and this is a thing which has been ignored in references to the book – a study not of Jew-Gentile problems but of the problems which assert themselves when two communities are found in close proximity to one another.  The sort of thing which happened in Magnolia Street to the dwellers on one side or the other are what happened exactly in a street in Belfast in which Orangemen lived one side and Catholics on the other and in Tunis where at the end of a certain area the French lived on side and the Italians on the other”.***

At present I am only on chapter two, with a full 500 pages a head of me, and not wanting to spoil the experience, I haven’t turned to the back, but my spoiler alert, with help from another Manchester Guardian article is that Didsbury features along the way.

Percival Street, Holt Town, 1953

Well, we shall see.

What did intrigue me, was that Mr. Golding was participating in “the formal opening of the new library set up by Messrs. Kendal, Milne and Co. in their Deansgate establishment [to a large audience] “on The workshop of the novelist’s brain”.****

Now that I would have liked to have been part of.

And in a sort of way I should also have liked to have walked those streets in Hightown that he knew so well.

Of course, they have mostly gone, cleared away in the clearance programmes of the second half of the last century.  But there are a few pictures, and in particular the two that appear here.  Both are of Back Percival Street, a small slip of a place which didn’t warrant a listing in the directories and doesn’t get recorded by name on the maps.

But my Facebook friend Bill Sumner, swiftly located the street where I thought it might be beside Percival Street, which was off Waterloo Road which in turn connected Bury New Road to Cheetham Hill Road.

Leaving me just to reflect on those two images of Back Percival Street, which are a powerful reminder of just how tough the area could be, whether you were Jew or Gentile.

Location; Hightown

Pictures; Outside lavatory, Back Percival Street, 1951, m08286 and m08291, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass, cover from The Jewish Problem, 1938 and extract from the OS map showing Percival Street in Holt Town and surrounding streets

* The Jewish Problem, Louis Golding, November 1938, reprinted, November 1938, and January 1939

**Magnolia Street, Louis Golding, 1932

***The Making of a Novel - Mr. Louis Golding and “Magnolia Street”, Manchester Guardian, March 9th, 1935

****Ibid The Making of a Novel

Lost and forgotten streets of Manchester ........ nu 91 .........Higher Temple Street

You won’t find Higher Temple Street.

It went in the clearance of 19th century houses which also did for the surrounding network of streets in this bit of  Chorlton on Medlock.

But I have found it on the old maps, and so know it ran south from Rusholme Road down to Brunswick Street.

Back at the beginning of the last century there were 86 properties on Higher Temple Street, ranging from shops to houses, the odd industrial site and the HQ of the local Conservative Association.

By 1959, when the picture was taken some of those buildings had gone, and judging by the boarded-up shop, these properties would also soon be gone.

That said, despite the grand plan, the newsagents clings on, still no doubt dispensing, newspapers, cigarettes and ice cream to any one left to buy them.






Location; Chorlton-on-Medlock

Picture; Higher Temple Street, 1959, "Courtesy of Manchester Archives+ Town Hall Photographers' Collection", https://www.flickr.com/photos/manchesterarchiveplus/albums/72157684413651581?fbclid=IwAR0t6qAJ0-XOmfUDDqk9DJlgkcNbMlxN38CZUlHeYY4Uc45EsSMmy9C1YCk 

Lost and forgotten streets of Manchester .... nu 64 Little David Street, a lost canal a cafe and a plan

Now I doubt that anyone takes a picture of Little David Street.

Little David Street, 2016

It's off Chorlton Street, is very narrow and is closed off by a big gate.

It doesn't seem to have excited any interest and I have yet to find anyone who took a picture so in there interest s of history I did.

Little David Street runs besides that building on the extreme right with the very impressive arch way which around 1972 into 1973 was the library for the old College of Commerce and as such was a place I knew well.

Little David Street, 1849

A century and half before that Little David Street was fronted on its east side by a row of fourteen back to back houses and ran parallel with Back Canal Street.

And both gave access from Chorlton Street to a branch of the Rochdale Canal which stretched from the main canal almost down to what is now Whitworth Street.

The route of this arm of the canal is now underneath the car park and tower block of the Aytoun Street Building and explains why the back of the Minton & Turner warehouse and the one next door open out onto nothing more than an open space.

The canal with the arm off to the left 1955

I can’t say that during my three years in the Aytoun Street Building or as it was then the College of Commerce I knew that under me was that lost bit of canal.

I was there from 1969 to 72 and while some called it Colcom we were happier with the College of Knowledge.  The irony is that part of what I was studying was both Manchester and the Industrial Revolution but that fact that a bit of sat on my doorstep passed me by.

Looking back we could perhaps have been a bit critical of the course which failed to point any of that out but
I suppose back then the landscape was still dominated by so much from the Industrial Revolution it was all just taken for granted.

In time I will go looking for the inhabitants of Little David Street.  They won’t feature on any street directory but they will be on the census returns, and the key will be the landlord of the Mechanics Arms which is there in the first picture and was offering up pints in the 1850s.

The Mechanics Arms and Cafe, Chorlton Street, 1959

So identify him and with a bit of trawling we will find the people of Little David Street.

In the meantime I can’t leave without reflecting on some of the other changes since I was in the College of Knowledge over 34 years ago.

Back then Canal Street was just a street linking Minishull Street with Princess Street, and it was a drab little road made only interesting if you liked canals.

Of course now it is the heart of the Village and part of its space is occupied by tChurchill's.

I remember that corner as the cafe.  I never went into it, pretty much took it for granted and had completely forgotten its existence until now.

And as I posted, Antony sent me this from the MEN, Developers'plans to transform 'Hidden city' city centre into new £150 m district.*

And a full six years later the plans to revamp our little street have come to fruition, hence the re-run of the story ..... proving that all stories are worth revisiting.**

 Location; Manchester

Pictures; Little David Street, 2016 from the collection of Andrew Simpson, British Waterways narrow boats, proceeding to Hassall's Warehouse, Ducie Street, leaving Chorlton Street Lock, 1955, m54248  Mechanic’s Arms, Chorlton Street, H W Beaumont, 1959,m49952, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass and Little David Street, 1851 from Adshead’s map of Manchester 1851 courtesy of Digital Archives Association, http://digitalarchives.co.uk/

Tomorrow; Living in Little David Street

*Developers'plans to transform 'Hidden city' city centre into new £150 m district, MEN, Katie Butler, April 30, 2015  http://www.manchestereveningnews.co.uk/news/greater-manchester-news/manchester-city-centre-kampus-development-9149071 

**The secret cobbled street in the city centre brought back to life, Louisa Gregson, September 19th, Manchester Evening News, https://www.manchestereveningnews.co.uk/news/greater-manchester-news/secret-cobbled-street-city-centre-21595202

What a difference half a century makes

Just 46 years and about a mile separate our first two pictures but in almost every other respect they are world apart.

In the July of 1958, A.P. Morris was out on a Saturday afternoon on Market Street and captured the pull of the ice cream man.  

What is more remarkable is that it was not raining.  

Now I say that not to feed the popular myth about Manchester and rain but because 1958 had been a wet year with “heavy and persistent rain with many severe thunderstorms through the summer months, with April, May, June, August and September with rainfall three times the normal.”*

But July was dry, and the crowds were out. And so were the Italian ice cream men.  Most of our ice cream was made by twenty or so Italian families who had begun to settle in Ancoats during the 1860s.  The core of the settlement was around Jersey Street and the area not unsurprisingly became known as Little Italy.  And those of you who want to pursue the story can either read Antony Rea’s book or visit his web site.**

And on that Saturday afternoon there were plenty of takers.

Not that there weren’t plenty of other attractions, this was after all Market Street and it was as full of crowds then as it is today but with that added dimension that traffic still flowed along it.

Look at it closely and it is the clothes that draw you in.  Our two girls on the right are wearing light fashionable skirts and blouses while an older generation have turned out complete with overcoats.

And here I think is one of those fault lines which separate us from them.  The 1950s were a period of growing prosperity.  It might all still have been relative, with the gulf between the rich and poor still a chasm, but there was more of it about.  And of course it was the young in full time employment with few serious responsibilities who could spend their money on clothes specifically designed for them.  But there are still those in the picture wearing suits not unlike their father’s.  And of course it would be totally unthinkable that that father and son would go out in jeans and casual shirts which were almost undistinguishable.  That would have to wait for the baby boomers born in the late 40s and early 50s to reach middle age and who could see nothing wrong in Denham and hoodies.

Nor can we ignore the Kardomah.  Eating here or in that range of smaller cafes was nothing like our own cafe society.

And that brings me to my second photograph, taken on Deansgate in the summer of 2009.  The contrast could not be greater.  It is early in the afternoon and while there are plenty about on the street there are plenty sitting on the street doing what might be done on the pavements of Paris, Rome, or Milan, which is just sipping coffee, casually talking to friends or just watching the crowds pass by.

Of course people in 1958 did drink coffee, and might have sat on a rickety chair pulled out of some storage cupboard and placed on the pavement as a nod to a sunny day, but I don’t think this matches our Deansgate experience.  Coffee might not have been the instant variety but it still came with lots of milk, and if you were very unlucky was that odd concoction known as Camp Coffee.  Nor sitting on your rickety chair could you expect to have been served wine, for that it was the pub and like as not a smoke filled room which would not have looked out of place in some movie from the Second World War.

Unfair?  Well perhaps a tad, but I remember the milky brown stuff, the maghony coloured walls of some city pubs and above all the UCP snack bar on Market Street.  Looking at pictures of it in the city archive I am not sure this was the one I ventured into in 1969, but a UCP restaurant on Market Street I did once eat in.

Not that I ate the tripe which in the case of beef tripe is made from the first three chambers of a cow’s stomach.  I could go into more detail but am not going to.  Suffice to say then that UCP stood for United Cattle Products and was a chain of shops and restaurants in the north of England which specialized in tripe dishes.  As the UCP supporters site records,

 “In Lancashire and other parts of the North of England in the 1950s there were 146 UCP shops and restaurants, specializing in tripe dishes and with long queues for seats. ..... UCP also provided ox tail, cow heal and other bovine extremities.”***

Now before someone writes in, tripe is also eaten across mainland Europe and no doubt where ever there are bits of a cow to dispose of.

All of which is a long way from where we started.  But then perhaps not, I doubt that tripe is on the menu at the Starbucks on Deansgate or for that matter any of the cafes, bars and new beer houses which stretch out from Beech Road, along Barlow Moor Road and out on either arm of Wilbraham Road.  Of course I might be wrong, but on this one I would prefer to remain in ignorance.

Picture; Market Street on a Saturday afternoon in July 1958, A.P. Morris Courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council m62093, and street living, 2003, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

*Sutton, J. M., Agricultural Records 1969
**Rea, Anthony, Manchester’s Little Italy, 1988, and Manchester’s Ancoats Little Italy, http://www.ancoatslittleitaly.com/index.html
***UCP Tripe, http://www.unitedcattleproducts.co.uk/index.php

In the kitchen ……………. in 1959

Now I had all but forgotten this metal food processor.

Long before the swish big electric models, most homes had one of these.

Ours was used to mince the meat from the Sunday roast, and I suspect everything else.

It was made of metal, was operated by hand, and sat on the kitchen table.

Unlike this one, ours had a clamp, which meant that when it was not in use it would be stored away, freeing the table for other uses.

And like so many objects from the family home, I have no idea what happened to it.

I do know that in the fullness of time the basic gas cooker on the left of the picture was replaced by a similar model on the right.

Mum and Dad, I recall bought into a Cannon cooker around 1963, which survived the move from Peckham to Well Hall and lasted well into the 1980s.  Its novel feature was that it had the grill above the hob, which at the time we thought was quite neat.

All of which leaves the source for the picture, which comes from Manchester and was one of three featuring the food processor.

I am not sure why they were taken but I suspect they were part of a series focusing on modern kitchens.

In these energy conscious days, I rather think I would like a hand operated model, if only because they were so easy to use.

At which point I am sure someone will provide advice.

And they have, Barbarello pointed out that a modern version is now being sold, and more than a few have pointed out that we called them a "mincer" which I thought was just a name unique to our family.

Then to finish off Chris Payne sent over a picture of his family mincer, which I instantly recognised as the model we had in or house.

Location; Manchester

Picture; the food processor or mincer, 1959,"Courtesy of Manchester Archives+ Town Hall Photographers' Collection", https://www.flickr.com/photos/manchesterarchiveplus/albums/72157684413651581?fbclid=IwAR0t6qAJ0-XOmfUDDqk9DJlgkcNbMlxN38CZUlHeYY4Uc45EsSMmy9C1YCk 

 , and the more humble one, from Chris Payne, 2020

Two pictures …. a memory …… and a lost landscape

 Memories fade and eventually are lost and so these two images of Manchester on August 1st, 1957, are a powerful reminder of what the city was once like.

Two for one, a panorama of destruction, 1957

Both pictures were taken from the old BBC Building in Piccadilly and look out across the Gardens towards the Town Hall and the business sector.

Looking towards Portland Street, 1957

I would arrive just twelve years later, and Manchester had already shed many of those temporary car parks which were former bomb sites, replacing them with new builds of concrete and glass.

And while I was born and grew up in London, I can remember similar scenes.  

As kids we played on bomb sites and occasionally came across lost treasures pulled from the ground. 

Those open spaces would soon be home to cars and later still towering blocks of offices.

All of which makes me think my generation will be the last to remember that time when the last war transformed our cities and towns leaving acres of prime development sites.

But also, had created those gaps between houses where a single bomb had obliterated a home. In some cases, giant timbers were still in place shoring up the properties on either side, or the remaining houses had been given a skim of cement.

And so back to the two pictures.  

Piccadilly Gardens, the bus terminus and the future  hotel site, 1957

It is fascinating now to view the sheer scale of the devastation in just one part of the City and likewise what appears to be the random nature of the bombing, and what survived.

I won’t be alone in seeing pictures published in the early 1970s of the bits of Back Piccadilly ablaze from end to end which back in 1940 the censors deemed likely to undermine morale.

Now some I know will focus on the soot clad surviving buildings or wax lyrically about the former Piccadilly Gardens which is OK but detracts from pondering on the scale of the war damage, and the relative speed of the rebuild.  Added to which there is that very personal elephant in the room which for me is that simple observation that if you can remember such scenes, you are indeed very old.

Ah well such is the dichotomy from being a baby boomer with one foot in the late 1940s and early 1950s and the exciting and changing times of the decade to come.

Location; Piccadilly Gardens, Manchester, 1959

Pictures; Piccadilly from the BBC Building, August 1st, 1957, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass

Of polo mints….. chewing gum ….. and Five Boy’s chocolate ….. the vending machine ...no. 1

Now at 74 those modern vending machines which are built like a house, offer infinite variety of things to eat do rather challenge me.

Polo mints in Chorlton, 1958

All of which is an alert to a grumpy story, which was brought on by the discovery of the DVD, “Classic Vending Machines of the 1960s. Film, Refreshing Look, Features Footage Of Classic & Vintage Vendo Antique Vending Machines For Cola, Soda, & Soft Drinks”.

It was rated as having 4 out of 5 stars, but alas was unavailable.  I doubt I would ever buy it, but it did rather fascinate me, and set me off thinking about those vending machines of my youth.

They were far less complicated than their great grandchildren and the earliest I used dispensed polo mints, chewing gum and Five Boy’s chocolate.  

They were sturdy, no nonsense machines, which made no demands on you other than put your money in the slot, turn the handle and watch as the item fell out.  

There were no flashing lights, no messages about how much money had been fed in, and no window to watch as the product made its way down from the holding position to the flap where it could be collected.

A slew of machines, on Princess Road, date unknown

Instead you put in the money, turned the handle, and waited, and if you were lucky you heard the mints or chocolate land with a thud where upon you could retrieve it. 

But sometimes you got nothing because the machine had not been refilled and like as not you didn’t get your money back either.

Added to which there was no guarantee the product was still within its sell by date.  

Too many times on deserted and grim railway stations the vending machine offered up bars of chocolate which were crumbly at the edges, covered in white dots and tasted stale.

I was too young to use cigarette machines, but by the end of the sixties there were those tall and robust machines which delivered cartoons of milk and orange juice., which were a life saver at the end of the day when all the shops had closed.

So, in memory of some of those machines, this is the first of a short series on those simpler style of machines.

Location; Manchester

Pictures, polo mints at 362 Barlow Moor Road, A H Downes, May 1958, m17608, and a slew of machines Princess Road, date unknown, Courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass  and https://www.flickr.com/photos/manchesterarchiveplus/albums/72157684413651581?fbclid=IwAR0t6qAJ0-XOmfUDDqk9DJlgkcNbMlxN38CZUlHeYY4Uc45EsSMmy9C1YCk

Remembering Byrom Street in Manchester in the 1950s

Byrom Street, 1944

It is easy to over romanticise life in the narrow streets of places like Castlefield, Hulme and Ancoats in the middle decades of the last century.

There was certainly a sense of community and a willingness to stand by each other, but that can’t really compensate for homes which long ago had passed the test of decent places to live, areas dominated by noisy factories and the smell of all sorts of industrial workshops and where there was very little in the way of open spaces, grass and flowers.

Many of us are aware of the awful conditions of parts of Manchester in the 19th century but pass over those middle decades of the following century.

Not only were many of the worst properties still standing but the war had put on hold the slum clearance plans as well as actually creating a housing shortage.

So today I want to concentrate on the memories of Lisa’s mum who was born in 1946 and grew up in Byrom Street just behind Deansgate.

Today it is a mix of new inner city living, and swish office blocks.

Some of the first new residential properties were built at the southern end of Byrom Street in the 1970s soon after the courts and alleys filled with houses from the late 18th and early 19th centuries had been cleared away.

The more elegant town houses of John Street and part of Byrom Street have now all become offices and exist beside new commercial properties which have gone up at the beginning of this century.

Byrom Street, 1965

But back in the 1940s and into the 60s this was still a residential area and even after the families moved out little really changed till the developments of a decade ago.

“My mother was one of 14 children. Mum was born at St Mary’s hospital on 15th November 1948, making her their 9th child.

The family lived in the middle of 3, 3 storey houses on Bryom Street overlooking where the playground once stood on St John’s gardens.

My grandparents lost their first born, a son named Joseph when he fell into the canal close to their home. The child was just 3 years old at the time.

He couldn't be saved as his leg became trapped in some discarded machinery which had earlier been thrown in. My grandma worked as a live out housekeeper for a doctor’s family on St John’s Street & my grandfather worked on the railway.

My mum attended Atherton Street School with some of her siblings whilst the others attended St Marys School.

Life was a struggle so Wood Street mission would invite the family to their Christmas parties where mum & her siblings got a gift from Santa.

My grandfather did like a drink & spent many hours in a pub called the Ox* which I think may still be there. [on Liverpool Road]

Byrom Street, 1947

The family had to move around 1957 when the houses were being pulled down.

Mum said they topped & tailed with 4-6 sleeping in each double bed with my grandparent’s coats as covers. 

The fire would only be in use once my grandfather was home and he was always given the best foods. 

However he did protect each of the children & wouldn't let anyone say a wrong word against them.”

*The Ox was the Oxnoble pub named after the Oxnoble potato which was landed at Potato Wharf close by

Pictures; Byrom Street in 1944, City Engineers Department, m78877, Byrom Street, left hand side, 1965 J Ryder, m00691, and Byrom Street, early Victorian shops, 1947 T Baddeley, m00659, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass

When there were cars in St Ann's Square

I like this picture of St Ann’s Square sometime in the late 1950s or early 60s.

It is how I first remember it, all full of cars with grimy soot encrusted statues of the worthy with the memorial to the Boer War away in the distance.

And in its way it is now as dated as those images from the beginning of the last century.

Picture; St Ann’s Square, from the series Manchester, Lillywhite, issued by Tuck & Sons, courtesy of TuckDB http://tuckdb.org/history

Stepping back 65 years ………..Parrs Wood as most people will not have seen it.

Now, I know it’s a cheap bit of history, not to say very lazy, but here on a warm summer’s day is that bit of Parrs Wood beside the Gateway pub.

Today, the spot is dominated by that huge footbridge, which I am the first to concede is entirely appropriate in the interests of safely crossing the road, but how ugly it is.

And how it sets the scene for the surrounding area, which is dominated by entertainment complex, that plethora of road signs and of course the incessant whiz of traffic.

I have been trying to date the footbridge which was not there when I would wander down from Didsbury to sit in the small island of tranquility which was the small park.

But back then there was still a bus garage, the old high school was still new, and the Kingsway was less busy.

So, for all those that share my memory, and for everyone else who might yearn for a quieter Parrs Wood, here is what it was like a full 61 years ago ……. Nothing more nothing less.




Location Parrs Wood

Picture; road works at Parrs Wood, 1959, Courtesy of Manchester Archives+ Town Hall Photographers' Collection  
https://www.flickr.com/photos/manchesterarchiveplus/albums/72157684413651581?fbclid=IwAR35NR9v6lzJfkiSsHgHdQyL2CCuQUHuCuVr8xnd403q534MNgY5g1nAZfY

Walking a bit of our city’s history ……the Rates Hall

For countless thousands of Mancunians over the decades, the Rates Hall, in the Town Hall Extension was just where you went to pay your Council bills.

The Rate Hall, 1959

But I bet a fair few of them took time out to admire the design of the place.

I know I always did, although in my case it was not to settle a bill, just as a short cut from St Peter’s Square, to Mount Street.

It was that mix of wooden counters, period lamp shades and all that gold that I liked so much.

So here, for those who remember it, is a picture from 1959, while for the rest of you there is this photograph of the restored place from the camera of Daniel Hallen, taken in 2013.

The Rate Hall, 2013

The restoration was part of that bigger project to restore and refurbish both the Town Hall Extension and Central Ref during 2010-15 and included the creation of a public service hub, as well as somewhere to sit and admire the beauty of the building.

Picture; the Rates Hall, 1959, Courtesy of Manchester Archives+ Town Hall Photographers' Collection,
https://www.flickr.com/photos/manchesterarchiveplus/albums/72157684413651581?fbclid=IwAR35NR9v6lzJfkiSsHgHdQyL2CCuQUHuCuVr8xnd403q534MNgY5g1nAZfY and in 2017 from the collection of Andrew Simpson and the Hall in 2013, Daniel Hallen, licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license.