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

A new history of a Manchester children's charity

Now it is quite something to be invited to be part of the 150^th birthday bash of a children’s charity which began in Manchester in 1870.

In just three years time the Together Trust will be a 150 which deserves a special celebration.*

It had begun as a rescue operation offering destitute boys from Manchester and Salford a bed and a meal for the night quickly extended its work to include girls as well as boys, and provide more permanent homes offering training for future careers along with holiday homes.

Emma before admission

It also campaigned against some of the worst cases of child exploitation taking negligent parents to court and arguing against the practise of employing young children to sell matches on the streets of the twin cities.

Back then it was known as the Manchester & Salford Boys’ and Girls’ Refuges and Shelters and in 1920 changed its name to the Together Trust and moved out to Cheadle.

And today it continues to help young people and their families.

I first came across the Trust five years ago and have been writing about its work ever since.

As a historian my interest has been with its history and here I have had tremendous help from the Trust’s archivist who as well as maintaining the charity’s extensive archive also produces a blog and works with families who have been helped passed through the care of the Together Trust.**

Emma after admission

This I know because some of those families have expressed to me their appreciation of the work done by Liz Sykes in locating a relative and supplying details of the care they received.

So I have long wanted to be involved in writing the history of the Manchester & Salford Boys’ and Girls’ Refuges and Shelters and its story since 1920.

And this week we have confirmation that the project will go ahead with a planned publication date of 2019.

Next month Liz and I will begin the detailed preparations for the book and already we have had some exciting ideas about how the book will not only celebrate the work of the Trust but will be a practical guide as to how people can begin the journey of searching for a family member who stayed in one of the charity’s homes, was helped with industrial training and in some cases were assisted to move to Canada.

Thomas Bowers a success story

It will go a long way to describing the charity’s work but also reflect the history of how vulnerable young people and their families have been helped in the course of a century and a half.

Now all that has just got to be exciting.

Pictures; courtesy of the Together Trust

*The Together Trust, http://togethertrustarchive.blogspot.co.uk/p/about-together-trust.html

**Getting Down and Dusty, http://togethertrustarchive.blogspot.co.uk/

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

One hundred years of one house in Chorlton part 81 ...... the story the house won’t reveal

The continuing story of the house Joe and Mary Ann Scott lived in for over 50 years and the families that have lived here since.*

The fuse box, 1915-1985

Now I fully accept that it is a nonsense to suggest that the house has some part to play in my failure to uncover much about the lives of Joe and Mary Ann.

But that said they remain elusive sitting somewhere in the historical record but as yet stubbornly refusing to come out.

I know when and where they were born, when they got married and the address of their first home, and I know that they lived here in this house from 1915 till they died.

In the case of Mary Ann that was in the September of 1973 but Joe’s date of death has yet to be revealed.

And that is where I left it a full five years ago, and today I have had no more luck.

I did rather think that I might find a clue in Mary Ann’s death certificate which lists a George Kenneth Lowe as the witness but he too has proved impossible to locate.

Inside the fuse box

There was a George Kenneth Lowe born in 1920 and died in 1993 but that is all there is.

As you do I pondered on whether he was the son of one of Joe’s four sisters given that he was described as nephew but so far the records do not reveal that any of them married a Mr Lowe and Mary Ann’s maiden name was Tyldesley.

There are still some people who remember Mr and Mrs Scott but sadly the stories are fragmentary and have yet to offer up any detail.

He was a “good landlord,” “she was small but nice,” “they had no children” and when Mary Ann died “the house passed to an animal charity” who promptly sold it.

It’s not much for what amounts to 50 years in the same house, more so because with the advance of online research the lives of past generations are in many cases an open book.

MEM 15A fuses

And so once again I have to concede defeat leaving so many unanswered questions, from just what did they look like, to what Joe did in the Great War and Mary Ann’s involvement in the community

The answers are out there but as yet remain to be discovered.

And as you do I decided to let the house show off at least one of its secrets.

This is the old fuse box which was original to the house and which was only replaced in the 1985 a full seventy years after it was installed.

We may have lost some of the period features that Joe installed but sitting now in pride of place is this box along with a few other odd bits and pieces.

They may not seem much but the romantic in me likes them.

They are after all something that Joe and Mary Ann would have recognised and used and that will do for me

Location; Chorlton

Picture; the fuse box circa 1915 from the collection of Andrew Simpson

*The story of house,
http://chorltonhistory.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/The%20story%20of%20a%20house

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

Mr Harrop, a tank and a day out in Oldham

Now the tank in question was one of those porcelain souvenir ones which were made and sold in huge quantities during the Great War.

It made perfect sense for the ceramic industry to switch from porcelain models of Blackpool Tower and Ann Hathaway’s cottage to war time themes.

The actual figures were pretty standard but wither it was a tank, or an ambulance, or even a battleship they could be marketed in towns and cities across the country with just the addition of a transfer coat of arms.

And that is where Mr Harrop comes into the story because he has quite a collection of tanks and ships carrying the badges of Manchester, Liverpool Southport and here Oldham.

Not that he is a stranger to Oldham.

It is a town he visits regularly taking the tram which now runs on the Second City Crossing east from Didsbury to Oldham.

I could at this point fall back on stories of his adventures in the town but am content with mentioning  the exhibition he mounted of a few years ago featuring some of his collection of memorabilia from the Great War.

And will close with another outrageous plug for the book Manchester Remembering 1914-18 which amongst the many objects included in the story are another tank and battleship both bearing the coat of arms of Manchester.

Location; Oldham and Manchester

Pictures;  Mr Harrop's superior porcelain souvenir tank, circra 1917-18, and the tram that takes him to Oldham, 2017 from thecollection of Andrew Simpson

Manchester Remembering 1914-18 by Andrew Simpson was published by the History Press in February 2017

Order now from the author, or the History Press, http://www.thehistorypress.co.uk/publication/great-war-britain-manchester-remembering-1914-18/9780750978965/ and Chorlton Book Shop, info@chorltonbookshop.co.uk 0161 881 6374



*A new book on Manchester and the Great War, http://chorltonhistory.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/A%20new%20book%20on%20Manchester%20and%20the%20Great%20War

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