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Longton, the Church c1955
Longton, the Church c1955 Ref: L541014
Memories of Longton, the Church
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 Longton, the Pottery Kilns 1955 (ref: L541015x) |
Year: 1930s
BELCHER'S
Running parallel at the back of this church [St James] runs High street, where I was born as generations of my family were. The two pot banks on the right represent a fraction of the "Belcher's" that existed in Longton in the 30s/4os, they dominated everyone who lived amongst them with their endless stream of black smoke belching six days a week and covering all the buildings with soot and dirt. Night time brought short relief, until the next firing. Wash days were a nightmare, clothes went on to the line clean only to be covered later on with black spots that poured down relentlessly from the heavy smoky skies. White washing was unheard of in the Potteries until the eventual closure of the pot banks. Perhaps on reflection in the late evenings when the kilns stood like silent sentries, silhuette outlines in the night skies, we should remember the generations of potters who worked endlessly in all this grime who gave us once an industry 2nd to none ......... Each photo is a lasting memory ............. A Longton Lass. Barbara. Last edited: 25/02/2008 09:41 by Barbara Johnson |
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My early years in Longton - 1870s to 1940s
I was born in Longton in 1933 at 151 High Street Post Office, Longton. All my childhood was spent there with my grandmother Sarah Wright and my great aunt Matilda Ward (my grandmother's sister). Between them they ran the Post Office until the middle years of the Second World War. Before it was a Post Office, my great grandfather William Ward had a tailoring business there, from 1871 until it changed to the Post Office around about the early 1900s. This is when his two daughters took over and carried on with the family business. Next door at 153, my great grandfather's son William Ward junior ran a mens' hairdressing shop and a newsagent ...approx c1900. It really was the happiest time of my life with so many friends around me. The High Street was one great big family with many shops that stretched on either side of the street. It was a great place to live, and I feel privileged to have lived there at this time. The war years were to bring many changes - black outs, no street lights etc, and I have a very vivid memory of a poster in our shop telling us "that walls had ears" so you did not pass secrets on to anyone... All very exciting when one is a very small child! Games of hopscotch drawn on the pavement with chalk taken from the broken saggers of the local potbanks. Marbles played in the entry that ran down the side of 155 where the Crooks family lived in the sweet shop. This does evoke recollections of penny chocolate bars etc. The skipping rope, and top and whip, another game to keep you well occupied all day, not forgetting the excitement of coloured chalks bought from Gothams toy shop to colour the tops in bright and colourful patterns. The competition between us children was high! Ball games were also very popular at this time, every one seemed to possess a ball in those days, how could any one be bored!! I don't recall ever being so... The war years with the ever threat of a German invasion made our very fertile minds revolve around spys, secret dens, plots, and obvious intrigue. Around this time "Ourgang", Alan Crooks (who was the leader being the eldest), Geoffrey Emery from 158 High Street the outdoor shop that sold crisps and drinks, Stuart Bourne from the Royal Oak Pub, Graham Walker and Mervin Walker (unrelated). Graham I think had connections with the chip shop across the road ...I have another recollection of taking a bowl across the road for chips and pouring so much vinegar on to them they actually drowned them. To this day I still do the same... We were the High Street gang, and remained so until our early teen years when we went our separate ways. Money cannot not buy any of these precious memories: they are preserved in my thoughts along with many others to this present day. Unfortunatly, some of us are not around any more but no one is forgotten and the High street will live on, hopefully, as memories are passed down to our children. Stoke on Trent and its six towns is unique. The people and its pottery industries will long be remembered. I liken my hometown as "being an island with out water". We have a wealth of history and heritage, and in those days it seemed we had closer communities - before this so called "modern age" appeared. We didn't like change and were well known for that, but change inevitably has had to come so we go along with it even if deep inside us we don't always agree, we will keep are past and memories with us. The middle years - School My first school was High Street Infants, sadly not with us any more, my regret is I do not have a photograph to remind me of those days. My second school that I attended was Uttoxeter Road Junior School. This one I do have one surviving picture taken while it was in use. Also I have a photo of myself and class with Doris Tunnicliffe as May queen, I remember all the children on this photo very well. My third and last school was Queensberry Road Senior School. In my collection there are two or three of Queensberry School. Not all memories of those days were happy - the cane was used consistently. I remember it well, smacks across the back of the heads, this would not be allowed now but on saying that, we all seemed to survive it well..... Winters were harsh but the fun we had in the playground making the longest and most slippery slides were unbelievable, never to be forgotten. Walking home in freezing weather and calling into the shop for halfpenny oatcakes - that really was bliss. I visit my old home town regularly and make a pilgrimage to High Street to look at my old home standing there dilapidated and forlorn, ready I imagine for demolition, but I rememember much happier days. One curious family tale relating to my home was that originally it had been a chapel somewhere around 1812 to c1840s. I have never been able to find any history connected to the three shops, and I would dearly love to know if anyone else has knowledge of its previous history. This building also has its own story to tell of the families who once lived under its roof, and some quite unusal strange happenings...but that is another story. I now spend my time researching my family history from Longton with names .........Johnson .Bryan.......Ward.........and many more. May Longton live for ever Always a Longton lass, Barbara. Last edited: 03/01/2007 22:27 by Barbara Johnson |
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 Blurton, the Old Road c1955 (ref: B746003) |
Year: 1963
Critchlows Corner A memory of Blurton, Staffordshire The building in view was a Post Office and General Stores, the area was known as "Critchlows Corner" after the name of the family that owned the shop. The post office was the only one in the area. At the age of 10 I would cycle to the Post Office to collect our familys child benefit. The bridge in the background was used by railway engines taking coal from Hem Heath Colliery to Florence Colliery. The trains travelled slowly and on many occasions I have "caught" the train to Longton Park as the line passed it. Sadly the shop no longer exists and the gardens in which it stood are now a small housing estate. The rail line is no longer used due to pit closures. Posted: 07/07/2006 02:46 by David Moore |
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Year: 1960
Good times A memory of Huntworth, Somerset We came down from Scotland to Stoke in 1953 as my dad had got a job in the newly opened Pit Hem Heath. As children we used to stay at the house which is sitting in front of the pit . We used to go across the brook on the pipe what ran from one side to the other so we could buy sweets from the pit canteen and wave to the miners, many of who we knew as dads friends and workmates, then back across the pipe to play in the fields all round the house which is still there. Sadly the pit no longer stands but we had some really good times. In case anybody reads this and worked with my dad, his name was Bill Watson. I would love to know if anyone remembers any thing I have wrote about. Last edited: 14/04/2008 13:23 by Pauline Thorley |
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Year: 1930s
Evacuation A memory of Wetley Rocks, Staffordshire My brother and I, aged six and a half and five, were evacuated to Wetley Rocks at the outbreak of war in 1939. We only stayed for six weeks but the time is imprinted on my mind. We were billeted in a farmhouse which belonged to, I believe, the Ridgway family who lived in a grander house nearby, now demolished. Miss Ridgway lived there with her brother. Their father was a pottery manufacturer. The farmhouse had a room with a large table, covered in white crockery, and glass-fronted cupboards containing the same. There was a cowman who I think was conscripted but I was told that his name was Mr Moss and he was still alive in 1991. We attended the village school - mornings one week and afternoons the next. Arriving in Wetley Rocks we were deposited in the school and given beakers of tea and a banana. On arrival at the farmhouse we went to see the cows being milked and coming out I slipped in a fresh cow pat - I was wearing a green gymslip!! There was a walled fruit garden where we children over-indulged in ripe fruit. My brother and I visited the area in 1991 and I was pleased to see that my memory had served me well regarding the farmhouse. Enquiries put me in touch with a Fay Butler whose parents, I was told, owned a shop. Fay moved to Stone. Last edited: 26/06/2007 15:29 by Joyce Sidebotham |
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