I was born on the tenth of March 1919 in a terraced house near to Old Hill Church, when at that time the roof was stripped off and was being repaired. This I suppose gave me an early start in life to enjoy the fresh air. In those days the houses were built with cast-iron open firegrates in bedrooms and downstairs rooms, but the only occasion when a fire was lit in the bedrooms was if someone was ill. The reason in our case was that we could not afford the cost of coal to that extent.

The main room downstairs had a firegrate with side oven, which was very good for cooking, providing someone was able to attend to it and keep a good fire going. But this had to be kept clean, so we had no fire, thus no heating until this was laboriously cleaned with black lead to make it shine. The coal was delivered in loads of a ton or more in front of the house and on the road. This then had to be carried in buckets, tin baths or arms to the back of the house to the coalhouse. As soon as you were old enough and in all weathers this job had to be done by all children and mothers; fathers of course were working.

The lavatory was away from the back of the house where all waste products dropped into the soil pit which was emptied occasionally by council workmen, wheeled and dumped on the road, and loaded onto carts. This was generally done very early in the morning. Eventually this was converted to a W.C. when I was about five years old.

The back yard was shared by four houses which was typical of this type of terraced houses in the street. Therefore the children all played in groups, in one open area, generally having a good time. The parents of these families, generally, were good friends, most having similar work and hobbies. Some kept pigs, others kept chickens, pigeons, cats or dogs, and so there was lots to talk about amongst parents, together, after work or at weekends. We lived in this house with my grandparents, aunt and cousin, so, with my parents and two sisters, that made nine in all to share three bedrooms. We had a lively upbringing. Another brother died at the age of five, who I never knew, and a sister died at the age of two, who I just remember.

I began school at the local infants’ school when I was five. This school was only a short distance from the house, and I attended there until I was between eight and nine. The only thing that has remained in my memory while there was one day when I was smacked on the arm when the boy next to me told the teacher that I had bobbed out my tongue to her. This was not so, as I was only moistening my dry lips, as I was no doubt waiting for our free milk which we had at playtime. My playmates duly sorted out the informer when we went out at playtime.

I was seven years old at the time of the 1926 General Strike and I remember picking coal from the railroad which ran along the end of the street. The track was raided every time a train passed, little pieces of coal being jolted off. We filled our buckets quickly and ran off home before the policeman caught us. The police station was very close to our house, so there were policemen always not far away.

My mother had worked before having children at the nearby foundry works, and was accused with others of playing pranks on their blind employer, such as placing obstacles in the way for him to fall over. Several years later when I was eight years old, it was the common daily sight to see this former employer of my mother walk back from the works at lunchtime to his home about a mile away. His habit was to walk in the middle of the road. It was very rare for motor vehicles to pass through our street, so a motor horn from behind could scare anyone. So on seeing blind Solomon coming up the street, I and others occasionally crept up behind and made a bad imitation noise of a motor horn. This of course made old Sol' jump sideways and wait for the passing car which never came. This happened once too many times for him to endure and being close to our house he turned and came to see my mother, asking for her by her maiden name. My mother was absolutely dumbstruck when he said it was her son who was responsible for playing tricks on him. With carefully chosen words to Sol' from my mother, and a few threatening words to me, the episode was forgotten and not repeated.

There were many hawkers around the streets in those days, all with either a handcart or a horse and cart. Besides the bread cart, the milk cart came daily with milk sold right out of the churns. There was ice cream sold in a wafer, cornet, or a tea cup. The scrap man came occasionally with a cart fitted with a roundabout. For some scrap you could have a ride. Another visitor was the ironmonger, with everything on his cart from a candle, to saucepans, a bucket or a bath. Then there was the salt lady who brought huge blocks of salt to sell. The grocer who was blind came with all the provisions in the food line. There was a scissor grinder, and a line prop dealer, a fishmonger and a chimney sweep, just to name a few. The only trouble was that most people were not very well off.

It was about this time, when I was eight, that I had to change schools. This school was in the opposite direction, and just a bit farther away. I stayed at this school for about two years. My only memory of note was taking a mirror to school to sketch your own portrait. My effort was not much of a likeness. From then on I loved to play football whenever I could. My father had a wooden scooter made for me by the carpenter at his work which gave me lots of pleasure until it wore out. Then I was fortunate enough to have a treadle scooter given to me by my mother’s domestic employer. This was a big improvement as it only required the treadle to be pressed and released to propel it along, the back wheel being turned by engaging a ratchet wheel. It was a pleasure trip to go on errands on that scooter.

Other hobbies were collecting cigarette cards to make a set of fifty. The subjects were birds, animals, football players, film stars and many more. I still remember the many film stars, although I rarely went to the cinema. Marbles in different designs were also collected. We played games with our marbles which we called Chuck in the hole or Shoot the ring. Both games were played to win or lose more marbles. With the cigarette cards our game of Picture or Print required one to call which side of the card would land uppermost when flipped into the air by your opponent. Again, they were won or lost, so it was luck that decided how long it took to get a set. In the warmer weather we played cricket, hopscotch, skipping or rounders. My mother never saw much of me as long as I could play outdoors.

My father at this time was gravely ill with cancer, so after a lot of medication and nursing my father died when I was only eight. This was a great loss to my mother, my sisters and I. It left my mother to struggle to keep us, but that she did quite well, working very hard. It was a real setback for our education because we could no longer afford any books.

In the school summer holiday my mother took us to the hopfields near Worcester to pick hops. We used to stay three or four weeks on this working holiday. The farmer paid a few pence for each basket picked, so we helped a little until we became tired, but mother carried on working until five o ' clock. Not being very much help as a hop picker my mother sent me back to the farmyard to light the fire for the evening meal. After the meal there was very little to do so most pickers went back to the barn sleeping quarters to talk or have a sing song. Men, women and children all slept on the floor close together. It was really a rough and tough life, but everyone seemed to enjoy it and felt better for it, going back year after year.