Sue Wilkinson interviewed by Ian Reynolds 28th June 2018
I was born on 13th April 1952 in the Robson Maternity Home in Stockton, then we lived in Eastbourne Avenue. There was my nana, my sister and myself. I lived in Eastbourne Avenue for about eleven or twelve years until I went to the comprehensive school. It was a beautiful house, we were very happy there. Do you want to know about the house?
You used to go down the garden path, it had a front door with a big bay window. You went down the side and there was another door that went into the back. You went into a scullery-cum-kitchen, there was a window with the kitchen sink underneath. On the other side my nana had a mangle. There was a cooker, there was a table, there was a pantry and then there was a coalhouse, and that was your kitchen. You went through another door and you went into where we lived. There was a dining-room table, a three-piece suite, a television in the corner and a window that overlooked the garden. Through another door was what you’d call the parlour these days, and in there we had a three-piece suite, a great big fireside with a fire in it, a big grandfather clock, and a chair in the window. Down the corridor and up the stairs there was three decent sized bedrooms, a separate toilet, and a bathroom. They were all pretty big, it was a pretty big house.
It was number 2 Eastbourne Avenue. You went out into the garden, we had a little square lawn with a massive pear tree, my mam used to give them to Binch’s in Yarm, and a big hedge that separated us from our neighbours. We had a front garden which had some flowers and another hedge down the other side. And that was Eastbourne Avenue.
We used to get bathed in a tin one in front of the fire in winter, in what we called the living room. For a lot of years people only used tin baths. Some of those houses down there didn’t have bathrooms. You used to have to go outside to use the toilet. My aunt Nellie was on that row of houses where you [Ian Reynolds] live and there was no toilets in any of them, and no bathrooms either. They had the one room upstairs and the living room. My auntie used to sleep in the front room. Then you had a parlour, like a place to put all your pots and pans and groceries and things. There was a kitchen sink and a little table. But whenever you had to go use the toilet you had to go outside. The paper was hanging on a hook with a newspaper print or that Izal stuff. There was none of your luxuries or Andrex you have these days, definitely not. Oh, and it was always full of spiders, and I hate spiders. I had to be really desperate to go. They had those chain pulls in the toilet, I remember my aunt Nellie’s, very much so. Going over the cobbles in the freezing winter to go to the toilet.
My nana was the cook. We used to eat everything that nana did, she was a lovely cook, but then again, they knew how to cook in those days. We never went out and bought anything out the shop, my nana used to make it all. Pastries, cakes, dinners, soups. There was always a pan of soup on the cooker. If you dropped a sweet out your mouth you just picked it back up and ate it, you didn’t bother running it under the tap. I don’t think there was so much on the health thing when we were younger. You’re pressurised to eat healthy and do all this, that and the other [nowadays], but we weren’t as children.
We used to have to put a boiler on, because there was never any hot water. I don’t know if we had immersion heaters, I can’t remember that. Me and my sister, every other Monday, at alternate times used the poss tub and the mangle in the washhouse in the back garden. You had to be careful that you didn’t get your fingers in the mangle, because if you did by God you knew about it. So, one week she would use the mangle and I would make sure the water went in the poss tub. We had a poss tub, but it was used for killing cats really, because there were thousands of them. My nana used to poss them, and then it was used for washing up! Oh, and that mangle, oh was it hard work, especially putting sheets in. You see, they used to boil everything, there was no washers or anything like that.
The next Monday my sister would take the mangle, and I’d see if I could catch her fingers in it! The water would come in the poss tub and at the end of the day you took the poss tub outside and emptied it in the sink. And that was your wash day. Your whites, you used to have on a great big thing on the hob, and you used to put your whites in there. It was an all-day job was washing then. In the winter the mangle used to come into the kitchen. The mangle used to fold down as a table as well, it was like a piece of furniture, and you could use that as a table. These days my kitchen is full of things you just press buttons. If I couldn’t press a button, I wouldn’t do it.
Adjoining us was Mrs. Harrison. On the other side was Mrs. Hall. Then there was Mrs. Tessimmon, then Mrs. Wardle, then Mrs. Bowes, then Mrs. Biggs, and I don’t know what they called the lady at the top, but she was lovely. On the other side there was Annie Kerr, then the Frasers, then the Andersons, then Miss Chalmers, then the Durhams, then the Robinsons, then the Marshalls, and then there was the Boroughs. And that’s all of Eastbourne Avenue for you.
May Fenny was round the corner. I can’t remember what they call that road, near where Colin Hyde lived. That was where May was living, around there. I didn’t like death as a child, still don’t to this day, but I know she used to lay out dead people. There’s one or two of them in the village that used to do that.
I went to the village school when it was the old school, and a bit further down we had a big Nissen hut. You used to go in there for Sunday school and some lessons. In the school we used to go to the Brownies and the Guides. I went to both. Later on, we came out of the school and we went over to the rectory and did Brownies. Some years after that there was a playing field at the back of the school where they put this great big hut thing. It had these tables all adjoined, with your inkwells in, and you used to go in there for lessons as well. Of course, you had your playground adjoining the school. We had some good times there. You had your own little desk and your stool to sit on when you were in school. We had a great big hall there that was divided for some lessons and opened up for others. It had great big fires at both ends, and in the winter, they used to put the milk round it and you used to sit and watch the cream rising to the top. Oh, that was beautiful, that was a treat. You used to suck all the ice out of the cream and it was lovely. That’s how you used to have your winter months. Those great roaring fires. Mr. Jackson used to sit at a great big desk right in front of you. When you stop and think about it we had a fantastic childhood. Better than now with these handheld things. I’d rather go back to the village times. We had a good laugh, a good childhood, all of us in the village.
The only two teachers I can remember are Mr. and Mrs. Jackson, but I think one of the teachers there was called Mrs. Leadberry, she was lovely, but the rest of the teachers I can’t remember. Maybe Ros could tell you a little more about that. But there was definitely Mr. and Mrs. Jackson.
The lessons were good if you paid attention. I loved the village school, I loved everything about the village. There was an atmosphere when you went to school, I loved going to school when it was at the village, absolutely loved it. You had your lessons, you had your playtimes, but you all mixed and everybody knew everybody. It was a lovely school to go to. A proper village school. It was lovely. But yes, the lessons were nice. The older you got the harder they got, which was only natural because they were getting you ready to go to secondary school. I loved school when I went to Egglescliffe very much.
Me and Colin Wood did the maypole. Mrs. Jackson used to do the maypole and woe betide if you didn’t get it right. You used to go off to the garden fete and you thought you were the bees’ knees if you got asked to do the maypole, you were important. Me and Colin Wood, naturally there were others but my partner was Colin because you always had a boy as a partner. Me and Colin did the maypole together, I loved it. I did that at the garden fete.
There was Ros and Diane, there was Christine Fraser. So many people came from afar, I’m trying to think of the village ones that went. I’m sure David Hardy went, I think Philly Binch went. My sister went. I’m trying to think back to my year but I can’t remember much more of it. If I’d known I’d have the photograph of everybody in the school. Brian Robinson, he went to the village school. But I can’t remember many, I’m going a bit too far back for that.
We used to play on the village green, we used to play ball games and one thing and another. Adjoining to Smith’s farm there was a shrubbery, and you all had your own tree, and we used to play houses. I used to go everywhere on this three-wheeler bike that ended up in Smith’s pond on their farm. It could still be there for all I know! When we’d finished doing that we’d come down and make mud pies and pretend we were having a picnic. That’s what we used to do in the shrubbery.
We used to go onto Mr. Smith’s farm and he had an orchard, where I’m afraid I was very naughty, along with the rest of us, and we all used to go pinch his apples and pears off the trees and get into trouble for it. He used to shout at us, but it never stopped us going back! There were some allotments in the village as well where we used to pinch peas and things. On the whole we weren’t bad kids, we were just mischievous. Where the Pot and Glass is, where all the big houses are now, Arnie Marshall used to have a small holding. Instead of guard dogs, he had geese. And whenever you went past, they used to frighten you to death. It was a good deterrent, you never tried to get in there. You weren’t going to get into any mischief with Arnie’s geese.
I used to dress our cat up and walk it up and down Eastbourne Avenue in a doll’s pram. Poor cat! Diane and Ros’s dad used to have a fish round, he used to have a stall in the market. We used to go camping in his fish van. The rectory used to have a great big brick wall, we used to camp in Diane and Ros’s fish van and frighten ourselves to death as if someone was coming over from the rectory. We were that frightened we didn’t dare sleep half the time, but we had fun.
There was a big village hall adjoining the allotments where there used to be bands playing. Of course, we were always too young so we used to go sit on the railings with our noses pressed up against the window hoping we would get in, but we never did. My sister was always there because she was older than me. Colin Beaman, John Hibbert, I can’t remember the others in the groups, all I can remember doing is singing Poison Ivy at the top of our voice. We used to listen to them rehearsing. They used to do a youth club, but we weren’t old enough. But it never stopped us. We used to get chased away but we went back again, just to hear the music.
These boys, Colin and all them, they used to go in and practice in a band. There used to be railings right opposite, and we all used to sit like birds in a row! We used to sit there and have a dance, because there was nothing else to do in the village. But as I say, they wouldn’t let us in because we weren’t old enough, but it didn’t stop us going and listening to the music.
It was a social event, the village green bonfire. Everyone used to put their old things on it that they wanted to get rid of. The Smiths put things on it as well. Where the guy came from nobody ever knew, but they always put a guy on the top. The Smiths used to come and light it. You used to sit and watch all the fireworks going off. When the embers got there, they put your jacket potatoes on. Further down the line they used to have toffee apples and all that kind of thing, but it wasn’t a lot later. Everybody used to get together and gather around the bonfire and it was a social event. Of course, they moved it onto Smith’s farm years down the line.
Oh yes, there was all kinds of things going off, one thing or another. It wasn’t like a display, but there were fireworks round and about, I suppose it was people letting them off in their gardens and things like that, by what I can remember. It was dangerous because it was massive. It was a good bonfire. It was always well turned out.
Sally and Rachel had the post office. It being a village, they had a back way into that shop. If you ran out of anything after hours you used to just go knock on the back door and Rachel and Sally would let you have it. There was no qualms, you used to pay for what you wanted. You never used to worry about running out of things because you always could go to Rachel and Sally, and they would let you get anything after hours. I can remember you used to go in there and see what you could get for your money, to see which pen’worth or hap’worth you could get more of, to make sure you got your money’s worth. But they were really nice people. They had Black Bullets, I can remember them, and Highland Toffees in a bar. There was sweets on the counter on a shelf, and then behind the bar they had them all in jars. On the other side I think they had chocolates or cakes, or something like that. You were always too busy to find out what you could get the most of for your money! There was all the old-fashioned sweets like mint humbugs and all that kind of thing. I can remember the Black Bullets, they used to be one of my favourites. At the back of Sally and Rachel Doughties’ shop they had a garden with a hut full of rabbits. They were David and Carol’s pets. I don’t know how it came about, but I can remember to this day, David Hardy and Philly Binch chasing us round the green with a dead rat, because we wouldn’t come and see the rabbits. I can remember that as plain as the nose on my face
I remember the tannery in Yarm, it used to smell horrible, absolutely, because you could smell it from wherever you were. You didn’t have to go down to the tannery to see it because you could smell it. It was the most horrible smell you could ever imagine. It always used to drift up. I remember that, and the vinegar brewery that was on the corner. Winnie Dugan and her mother – there used to be two little old cottages, a one-up two-down kind of thing, those houses were adjoined to the vinegar brewery. Then Winnie and her mam moved up onto Millfield Estate. Then the little old lady on the corner, she was the weeniest little thing you’d ever seen in your life. She had a plait all the way down her back. I used to take her paper, I used to deliver papers around the village. She was lovely, canny little thing she was, in fact her hair was longer than her.
There was two paper shops, Miller’s who I used to work for, and there was Robinson’s. But I used to work for Miller’s. There’s a restaurant there now and then a building society is where Robinson’s was, or it could be one of the charity shops. I used to do it round South View, round Grays Estate, and the village. You had to do it though, to get pocket money. I did papers for a lot of years. I had a couple of rounds and then I got one in the village. I must have done it about three or four years, if not more. It was only maybe £2 or £3, it was a lot of money then. To you as a child it was a lot of money, but it wasn’t an awful lot of money by today’s standards. But it was pocket money for you. To be quite honest, I used to put it away. When I had enough I got myself a leather and suede coat out of Swears & Wells in Stockton. My mam paid half and I used my paper money for the other half. I used to go out in the freezing cold, and my Nana used to shout, “Kathleen! She’s going out without a liberty bodice” or “you haven’t got a vest on”. When you got something, you used to walk around the village like you were the bee’s knees. If you wanted anything, you saved for it. It gave me the value of money, I’ll put it that way.
You were rich if you had a car. I can remember we had a black and white television for donkey’s years. I was 11 or 12 when we got our first colour television. If you couldn’t afford things you didn’t get them, that was the going thing. There wasn’t many cars at all. Our next-door neighbour had a car and we thought he was the bee’s knees. When we were little kiddies I remember Mr. Hall having a car, who lived on the other side of us, but there wasn’t many cars about. Nobody had the money to buy them.
I can’t remember the gaslights in the village, but there was some apparently. As I say, Ros will be able to tell you a lot more than I can, because she’s six months older than me!
There was a little shop in Binch’s where the nursery was. You used to be able to go down there and buy some veg and that kind of thing. It wasn’t a shop in the village, it was round the corner from the village. You used to go down a gravel path and just buy veg, not from Binch’s nursery itself, it was the other end of the village from what I can remember. But it wasn’t a shop as such. They opened another Post Office but it wasn’t a big place, I think it was run from the home..
There wasn’t much went on in the village. There was no big events or anything apart from Bonfire Night, it’s the only thing I can remember where everyone in the village used to come out. Everybody knew everybody, you could go and leave your doors wide open and nobody would even bother. Everybody was friendly, it was a really friendly place to live. Everybody used to look after everyone else’s bairn, there was nobody ever left or anything like that. It was a real village community. It was smashing. But no, I can’t remember anything exciting happening because it was a proper village. Nothing very much did happen.
We used to go tatie picking on the farm. Most of the village kids used to go, for pocket money. We did everything for pocket money. We sometimes used to go play in the hay bales, I don’t think we were supposed to be there. Lady Anne Bowlby had horses there, so we used to go see the horses. I was always frightened of horses, I never quite liked them. At the back of the village there were stables. It was nice, I used to go round with Carol as well, Carol Hardy used to work there. A bit further down there was another stables with Lady Anne Bowlby’s horses. My sister used to go to school with her daughter.
Tatie picking was backbreaking, absolutely. But you knew if you wanted the money, you had to put the labour in. They weren’t out with the whip or anything like that but it was hard work. You wanted it to go to Yarm Fair you see, that’s what you wanted it for. Our mothers didn’t have the money to do it, so you had to go out and do all these little odd jobs. It was what they used to call tatie picking week, but I don’t think we went for the week, it was too much hard work. It was always before Yarm fair, and that’s where you used to get your pocket money. You didn’t get an awful lot, but it was a lot to you. It was money in your hand, you could go out and treat yourself to what you wanted. It was only £2 or £3, something like that.
Yarm Fair was lovely. It was a brilliant place to go, because we had nothing else. You used to look upon Yarm fair as somewhere to go, something to do. You used to go with all your pals and spend your money that way. When you were younger you used to go around with your mother and go to watch the riding of the fair, where they sold all the horses. You picked your night to go, because Saturday was always the most expensive, so you tried to keep away from that night if you could. It still is now the most expensive night to go. You either went down with your parents, or as you got older you went with your mates. You used to get your fortune told and eat candy floss and toffee apples, and get fish and chips to come back home with. Oh, we’ve lived. You used to go on the roundabouts and make yourself sick. You used to run from one to another, it didn’t really matter that you didn’t like it. And come home with a goldfish that never lasted long enough to get its fins wet. My mother used to say, “Don’t come home with a goldfish”, and you used to go home and put it in a bowl, and it was dead the following morning. But to you, you got a pet, you so didn’t really care. We used to drop brandy in ours to bring them back to life!