大象传媒

This story was submitted to the the People's War site by Stoke-on-Trent Libraries on behalf of Geoff O'Connor and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

I was born in 1935 in Stoke in Cornwallis Street. My Dad was a miner and mother was a very skilled cup handler working for Spode. Things changed dramatically for us. Mother ended up moving from a good job on the pots to working on the bins.
I remember the total darkness of the blackout, but us kids still played out in the street. I have really good memories of playing tick - never any girls playing out; they were kept in. We used to make little burners out of old tin cans filled with coal. We'd light them, perhaps with a bit of paraffin, and wander round at night swinging our lights. We used to play a game called 'Dickie Dickie Shiney Light' where we'd flash torches at each other.
The Red Lion pub (now at the Tram Museum in Crick) was open one night. A chap went in one night and had a few drinks and got kicked out. He went wandering round the churchyard and back in again. This happened several times and when the landlord finally ordered him out the chap asked, "Do you own all the pubs in Stoke?" The pubs opened on a rota basis when they had beer. My father always said that the busiest pub in the city was the Wagon and Horses in Meir. It was suppled by Bents Brewery in Stone and of course, loads of Yanks based at the aerodrome used the pub.
There was a building in Stoke that was one of the old underground shelters - the old PMT Social Club basement. This was used by all the people in the streets around us in Cornwallis Street. I only remember going to the shelter about three times but the smell stays with me. When I was about 4 or 5 I lost my shoe round there - I dreaded telling my mum.
As kids we used to jump on the back of the open backed buses. One day the bus ran over my foot (my fault, not the driver's!). My aunt pushed me all the way up Hartshill Road to the accident unit in an old pram.
Mother always shopped on a Friday night. The shop was known to us as Hands. It was on the corner of Cornwallis Street and Bowstead Street. There was always a chance there might be a luxury like a pork pie. Mother would occasionally delve in to the black market. Sugar was her weakness. She had connections in the Uttoxeter area. She'd go there on the bus and come back with the loveliest butter, new laid eggs and home-cured bacon. We always had meat on the table. Father worked funny shifts and he always had to get two buses to work either at the Glebe, then at the Mossfield. He was a drinker, my dad. He'd go out early on day shift and be back about 2pm. He'd be in the pub by 6pm. He wasn't unusual; lots of men spent every night in the pub.
I went to the old St Thomas' School in Knowl Street, Stoke. The infants was run by nuns. My education was haphazard at best. Never took a test in my life! School dinners were at Cross Street, so we all had to walk in to Stoke. We used to play in the shelters. One day we found a load of savings stamps which we shared out between us.
I remember listening to 'Happy-drome' on the radio with Ramsbottom, Enoch and "Me". There were two toy shops in Stoke - Mould's and Berrisford's. There was a fantastic Woolworth's on two floors!
The interesting time for me was after the war as things were getting back to normal. Stoke City had a good football team then. Lots of people came to the match on bicycles. Living where we did people used to pay us 2d or 3d for looking after their bike while they went to the match. The most I made in a day was 拢5! Quite the entrepreneur!

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