- Contributed by听
- cornwallcsv
- People in story:听
- Liz Hurst, Uncle Joe, Harry Bradford
- Location of story:听
- Eastbourne, Sussex, East London, Kennaway Hall, Stoke Newington
- Background to story:听
- Civilian
- Article ID:听
- A4521070
- Contributed on:听
- 22 July 2005
The following story has been added to the website by 大象传媒 Radio Cornwall Action Producer Nina Davey, on behalf of Liz Hurst the author. She understands the site's terms and conditions.
I hope the following is of interest. It's an aspect of the war which isn't thought of much.
At the beginning of WW2 my parents lived in Eastbourne in Sussex. My father, Harry Bradford, worked in a large grocery store called Elliot's. Sixty miles away in London many of the teenagers were getting into trouble on the streets and causing mayhem, playing around on dangerous bombsites etc. It was particularly bad in East London which was affected very badly by the Blitz. It was decided to take over a large rambling mansion called Kennaway Hall in Stoke Newington, East London and start a youth club to keep the teenagers off the streets. Without my father's knowlede my mother's cousin who lived in London and was involved in youth work put my father's name down to become warden of this youth club and then informed my father that he'd got to come up for an interview. My father had been involved with the cubs and scouts for most of his life and had organised many different activities for them and despite stiff opposition he got the job. Consequently my parents, plus my brother who was 6 years old and my older sister who was a babe in arms, moved from a lovely home in Eastbourne to a flat in an old Victorian house in Crouch End,North London - in the middle of the war!
Even though my father's name was Harry the club members affectionately called him 'Uncle Joe'. He organised such a wide range of activities for them all, they looked forward to meeting together at Kennaway Hall and membership grew to almost 150 members which meant that that many teenagers were being kept off the streets. After the youth club closed late in the evening my father had to walk home through the 'black-out'. There were no lights anywhere only white painted kerbstones and white painted crosses on tree trunks as his guidance.
Each evening after the youth club closed my father would walk the same route home through the 'black-out' and the air-raid wardens from that area got to know him well. If ever the wardens needed help in any way at the time my father was passing he would give a hand e.g. He would assist the wardens to catch looters who were trying to steal items from bombed houses. Unfortunately looting was prevalent in some areas of London although it's not an aspect of the war that people like to talk about much these days. On another occasion when a bomb had hit a house but failed to explode he helped the warden to rescue an elderly couple from the house who were injured and traumatised. For this he got an official commendation.
After the war had finished he never did return to Eastbourne and the grocery shop; he had found his vocation in youth work and thus I was born and raised in London. Twenty years after the war a lady who had been a former member of the youth club and had emigrated to Canada after the war came back to England for a visit and made enquiry after enquiry until she traced my father to let him know that at a time that was so traumatic for Britain and especially London, how happy she had been in that rambling old youth club and she had wonderful memories which would stay with her forever and it was all down to my father. I hope this is useful for your war memories.
Kind regards Liz Hurst.
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