Our favourite Memories

Holloway Sanatorium c1955
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On August 13, 1961 I took up residence as a student nurse in Lindsay Smith House across from the hospital. It was the day the Berlin wall went up, and, as I recall, the day before the grouse shooting season began. I was 19 years old. Miss Goodyear was the Matron. Miss Lemon was Assistant Matron; Miss Mitzi Tauber was Assistant Matron (rumoured to be the cousin of Richard Tauber the singer); Miss Cottingham was Night Sister. I wore a blue cotton dress, a white apron (fresh daily), a plain cap, black stockings and shoes. I was also issued a navy blue cape with a red lining. It was so cold dressed thusly, I made a red flannel petticoat and combinations to keep war. We were not allowed to wear a cardigan, unless by special dispensation, like when the boiler was not working. We worked 12-hour shifts from 7am to 7pm for four days. One day, we were on at 10 am. On our days off we were served breakfast in bed by Italian maids. The trays had a full complement of food, hot, cereal, tea, and little jugs containing milk. We spent three months, on probation, took a state exam after one year, and as part of the four-year course, transferred to general nursing at St. Mary's Hospital in Paddington. The qualification of Registered Mental Nurse required three years at Holloway. I have so many memories. Turning our cloaks inside at Christmas time out so the red... Read more

Carlton Hotel c1965
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My family ran the Carlton from the early 1970s. We lived there for a year or two in the flat which was on the right where the garage is in the picture here. I remember cycling around the place on my blue plastic tractor (I was born in 1971 was I wasn't old). We found that some guests came into the flat and used our bathroom so we hid a fake rubber severed hand poking out of the toilet. They never came in again. Mike Ward used to play the Hammond Organ in the Caribbean Lounge (which was once a snooker room). The Lions Club would come in and I would try to win a huge lion every week but never did. After years of trying they presented me with a small one which I still have!

Winkups Camp c1955
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I grew up in Towyn and lived in the same bungalow on Towyn Way West until I got married in 1985 at the ripe old age of 31 and moved to Rhyl. My Great Aunt Sarah owned Browns Holiday Camp with Mr Brown from before the Second World War and my mother and father worked on the camp until it was sold in the 1960s. It was just like 'Hi De Hi' in those days, my father did everything from organising the sports days, cinema, fancy dress competitions, Friday night dance to building chalets, emptying the bins, mowing the grass and general all round jack of all trades. My brother and I played on the Camp (as we called it) and made many friends. I remember some of the holiday homes were old trams, not like the modern caravans of today. There used to be bikes to hire and Mr Lord would take photographs of the holiday makers and sell the photos from a booth on the Camp. My father used to grow his own veg etc and used to go around the Camp with a tray like a cinema usherette selling his tomatoes, beans, peas and flowers. When the Camp was sold my parents started up their own business next to our bungalow, a Garden Centre called Rest Haven Nurseries. They used to work together happily in the garden but it was hard work. I remember that... Read more

High Street c1965
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I always think of East Ham at Christmas, going to the Co-op to see Father Christmas, it seemed like magic how they did it. Then when older I remember my dad sat down our shed at 61 Stokes Road plucking chickens, he kept chickens in our small garden along with rabbits and canaries in an avairy. He would be all done up in scarf and big coat, with a lead going down garden with a light on the end, no health and safety then. The chickens were then displayed in the kitchen and all the neighbours bought one for Christmas dinner. It made up the Christmas money. I remember New Year's Eve out in the street having a good old knees up and listening to ships' horns going off at midnight at the Albert Docks. They can never recreate those days. Happy Christmas to all that remember good old East Ham.