大象传媒

WW2 MY PRE-SCHOOL DAYS IN DURHAM I was born in 1933 at Shield Row in Northern England. When my sister was born, in 1935, we moved into a brand new council house, with penny-in-the-slot meter for electric light in every room and - luxury of luxuries, something none of our relatives had, a bathroom with running water, heated by an open coal fire which burned brightly only on Mondays, for the washing, and Fridays, for bath night. The fire was always a problem to light, pages of old newspapers screwed into batons, heaped together with a few thin sticks of wood and a few nuts of coal brought up the steps in a galvanised bucket from the coal house in the back yard.

My father, who was skilled in the old crafts of woodwork and metal work, made a BLAZER, a two feet square of metal, with a small loop of metal attached to the centre by which it could be lifted onto the top bar of the grate. Across the blazer he would spread a large sheet of newspaper that helped to draw the flames upwards, thereby pulling in air from below. He had no bellows so became a dab hand at blowing the smoking screws of paper into life. At bedtimes, he would carry a shovel of burning embers to start a fire in the small hearth in my bedroom.

When my sister outgrew the drawer being used as a carry cot, my mother presented me with a single bed and told me, 鈥淵ou are a big girl now, I have bought you a bed to sleep in.鈥� I think that bed must have been bought second hand because the next thing I remember is waking up in Lanchester Isolation Hospital, in a cot, one of many a strange room. I was furious! My first thought was, 鈥淲hy have I been put back into a cot?鈥� I pulled myself onto my feet and SCREAMED!

I had Scarlet Fever and was quite ill. When I recovered my mother had my photograph taken. The photographer gave me a large, colourful ball to hold but I threw it away. This happened several times until the photographer was able to capture the rebellious stance and mischievous smile that still epitomises my character. The 1936 photograph was enlarged, hand painted and now shines down from my stair well.

My father was invalided out of the coal mine. Fathers brother, my Uncle Tommy, was a miner all his working life and gave us much of his coal allowance. My father brought coal across the fields from Co-operative Villas, in a sack slung over his bicycle.