Castleside, Consett Road c1955

Blackhill (and Stephen yallop!)

Hello Stephen mate.
My name's Paul Hunter, I was born in 1957, I grew up at 6 Bessemer Street, Blackhill. The Jacksons lived at Number 5, Davie Cudden at number four. My dad worked at 'The Company' CIC. I remember the Hadrians Store at the top of the street, and getting my hair cut at Tonys, on the corner. We used to have regular fights with the Catholic kids in the street, the Rogans being the big family. The gates used to seem massive then. I moved to The Dene, about 1965. I started work as an apprentice butcher, in Liptons, in 1972. When I was older I did the pub rounds in Consett, usually ending up in Bottos, very often worse for wear.
We had some great nights in Consett, most of the pub-goers knew each other by face if not by name, and strangers stuck out a mile. Especially in Bottos, if they were from Stanley, or worse, Tow Law, you could guarantee spilt beer and blood. Bottos had these bloody awful plastic glasses that kind of glowed in the fluoro lights, and the floor was constantly awash with beer.
Thursday Night Discos at The Freemasons, with the clock 20 mins fast so last orders was shouted at ten.
Walked many a lass home in my day, and most of them are safely locked in my memory. Some, not many, are best forgotten.
I live in Newcastle now, Ive been to Consett drinking twice in 15 years.
Stephen Yallop, if you read this, hope you're well mate.

Early Days of Blackhill

My name is Stephen Yallop. I lived in Blackhill from the early 1960s. I used to live in Gallagher Terrace. I went to the Tin Mill infant school, I remember the teachers as Mrs Dunne the headmistress. Mrs Ferguson and Mrs Blendal. My father was William (Bill) and my mother Margrett. I also remember the red dust from the iron works. I used to go to the Boys Brigade in Blackhill. I remember the big park where I went with my mates Adrian Pooley and Alan Gray. The park keeper was called Mr Brown, I must admit we gave the poor man the run around, then I went to join the Boys Brigade to keep out of trouble and as I found out my leader was Mr Brown and yet we got on so well. My dad used to drink in the Scotch Arms. My dad and brother are both buried in Blackhill Cemetary. I was born in 1957. I always wondered if the big wishing stone in the park was still there. I always played at the football pitches and above the pitches was some hills, we called them the blue heaps. I also was friends with some lads called Ian Barrett and Glen Hood. It's sad when places change. When I was a kid I always said when I get older I will drink in the Scotch Arms but now I'm older they have pulled it down.

The 1970s

I was born in the 1950s but, despite having memories of happy times spent in the old bus station in the late 1960s, I would class the 1970s as more my era. Us lasses would sport shaggy-cut hairstyles, mini-skirts, hot pants and platform shoes and we'd buy stuff from She Fashions. We would do a tour of the pubs, usually preferring the less classy establishments because they didn't mind if we stuck a few bob in the jukebox and danced in the middle of the floor. So each Friday night, we would all meet up in The Duke of Wellie. Our boyfriends would usually be there too but they sat in their gang and we sat in ours and we didn't really bother each other, but it was a set-in-stone rule  that we would meet up in Testo's Night Club, The Bowl, after the pubs closed.
We went from The Duke to The Coach then on to The Turf for the "Go As You Please". Old Maggie always sang "The Wonder Of You" and I thrilled the captive audience with my rendition of "Paper Roses".
We would  dash off to Testo's at about 9.45 cos it was free admission if you were in before 10! There was always a canny crowd in by then and the regular house band "The Joe Morrell Trio" would be playing the hits of the day. This trio comprised Joe on keyboards, Bill on guitar and Brian on drums. They were also there to provide backing for the cabaret.
We always sat at the same table right next to the main doors and handy for the netty. The "restaurant" was pretty handy too and Sally Rafferty cooked a lovely steak, or a toastie sandwich if you weren't rich enough to afford the steak.
All the lasses drank lager and lime but if a bloke asked if we wanted a drink we would always say "Yes please. Pernod and Grenadine" (cos it was trendy).
We had to make many trips to the "Ladies Room" to check that our false lashes were still in place and to apply more purple eyeshadow and equally purple lippy. We all looked as though we had a bad heart!
The lads would usually arrive after 10, just to give the impession that they were "flush" and had enough to pay to get in. As usual they would all sit in a huddle together. They would get us up to dance though and make it known that we were part of their lives.
Many famous faces performed there as cabaret guests, Freddie Starr, Liz Dawn, Frank Carson, Roy Walker, The Searchers, Susan Maughan and Tony Christie to name but a few.
All of the singing performers obviously felt compelled to sing "Beautiful Sunday" and the house band did the same so it wasn't unusual to hear the same song four times in one night. Even now that song drives me batty!  The place was never over-crowded despite getting in a canny number of people. Everyone knew everyone else too so the atmosphere was homely. If strangers DID descend on the place then they were interrogated by the regulars in a friendly enough fashion and welcomed into the crowd.
Though Friday was our Big Night Out we sometimes went out on a Thursday and Saturday too and everything would be the same.
After a while a band from Teeside called "Pittsburg Steelers" took over the vacant slot after Joe and his band left. I recall the singer being called Alan and he had a fab voice. His verson of The Eagles "Desperado" was wonderful.  So was "Please Stay" (an oldie) and The Animals song " Bring It On Home to Me".
Pittsburg Steelers drew in a larger crowd but then they left too. Now then, this time the resident band became Ocopus  - a very handsome bunch of Maltese guys who were sensational. They drew in many of the "Botto's Crowd" (especially the lasses) who seemed to appreciate their talent.
We would watch the clock and at about 1am our respective boyfriends would get us up for the "smoochie dances" that would be par for the course for the last hour. Many of them had cars and would take their lasses home. But for those who didn't it was a case of toddling across to the Venture Taxi Office on Medomsley Road to book a taxi through a tiny grill type window.  No luxury of standing in the warmth there then. The queue would be miles long and folk would be frozen to death in the winter.
Then, after a couple of tragedies, The Bowl lost its licence. No more special place with a resident band and cabaret artists. It was off to Botto's for us then where we had to learn to dance round our handbags to records like Trammps "Hold Back The Night", The Drifters "There Goes My First Love" and George McCrae "It's Been So Long".
Not quite the same, having to squash past people to get to the dance floor, having to stand 10 deep at the bar to get a drink. And another thing, hot pants, high boots and mini-skirts had now been replaced by "New Length" dresses and skirts that came way down past the knees. Not nice.
I'd give anything to relive those 1970s days trekking fom The Duke to The Coach often taking in The Alex en route and maybe nipping into The Norven and Brit as well.  Then having the entertaining cabaret, dancing and hot meal that The Bowl provided as the big finale to the night out.
Now they were Golden Days.  
I have many memories of my hometown. But the 1970s were very special.
 

Consett in the 1950s

I was a teenager in the 1950s, worked at Consett Iron Company. We were teddy boys, had all the gear, suits, shoes ... Our nights out were Co-op dance Thursday nights. Them that had girlfriends always met them inside. Friday was a late night dance, was 10pm till 2am, we even went when we were on 2pm till 10pm shift, never any trouble but we had a good time. I remember on the Thursday night one of the lads used to play the piano, his name was Freddie Cheeseman, he went on to be famous, Freddie Fingers Lee, a fantastic pianist. We even went to Anfield Plane dance castles, all good nights. Sunday it was pictures, there was several picture houses, Rex, Plaza, Town Hall, Empire, Olympia, Roxy at Leadgate. We used to take our girlfriend, the lads that went on their own used to walk round and round the bus station after pictures came out, as lots of others did, sometimes they got lucky, sometimes they walked home alone. My first pint was at the Freemasons on Middle Street, it's long gone. I remember we went into side room, barman came in, asked what we wanted. I heard some say black and tan, so I said same, a pint seemed huge but we drank them. When barman brought drinks he said 'All 18, lads?' No one replied but he still put pints on tables and took our money. Most of my mates worked at Consett Iron Company earning good money compared to other jobs. Consett has been modernised now and the steel works are gone, old places gone, modern pubs replacing them but there is still top club, steel club where the older men go and they are busy compared to many. The old clock which was at the old bus station is still there next to the new bus station, dance halls have been replaced by modern night clubs, pubs I am told are not as safe to be out at night as in our day, but everything changes, some for the better, some not.

nights out in consett

I have some wonderful memories of nights out in Consett in the sixties. There was a pub called the Masons Arms run by Kevin and Ina Kearney and the barmaid Jenny, I think. It served the most beautiful beer in the world or so we thought, Tuckers ales. On a weekend it would be filled with all sorts of characters, Army Sam, Wilf Patta, Vince Blacky, Willy Dicken, Phil Terry, all supping those big creamy pints, and the girls would join us as well - Julia, Celia, Fred, Cath, Angela - I could go on but they were special. The juke box would be blasting out Beatles, Stones, Dylan, Animals and a few Irish rebel songs Kevin had secreted in the juke box under different names. Such happy times. From there to the Brit , same thing only the beer was Vaux {yuk]. A few in there and then on to the Mount Pleasant as long as Jenny let you in. The occasional band would be playing, mostly rubbish but you did get the odd one that was good but by that time of night who cared. The final port of call was that trendy night club opposite the Freemasons, Bottos. There were always fights on in there but that was part of life in Consett and woe betide anyone from Stanley. A taxi home and do it all again the next day. Happy memories God bless, Sam