Accumulators

A Memory of Newburn.

This would be about 1950. Radio was the in thing, me Nanna and Granda had one that was powered by an accumulator, this was a square glass jar with two elements inside connected to two terminals on the top which would fit and connect in the back of wireless. When the power ran down I would walk from Millfield to Newburn, Walkworth Crescent to be precise, where I would exchange this for a charged one (as you would do now with your car battery). This man had all kinds going on in his front parlour, he would also repair bikes and wirelesses etc. Saturday night was the night 'Dick Barton Special Agent' was on, everybody crowded around the radio for this one.
Lotto was a game that was taking a hold about now and on certain nights people would gather in certain houses to play, sitting wherever there was room. The kitchen, which also held a bath, which in turn had a hinged piece of timber over it to make do as a bench, was a popular place to sit.
Television came in about now and one house in Millfield had it, this was on Francis Terrace, I'm sure it was Hilda Robson's house, we were charged a penny to sit on the floor and watch it for about one hour of children's TV.
The bone shaker was a useful bit of equipment, this was an old bike without tyres, chain, brakes or mudguards. This would be used to collect bags of coal off the pit heap at Lemington, you could get 'half a dollar' for a good bag ( which is twenty five pence in new money). But it was your life at stake on the heap, when two tubs connected to a steel rope from the engine room at the bottom would be hauled up to the top and tipped, with people scattered like flies below, watching for the big stones rolling down towards them. And by, was it cold on the fingers in the winter. The men who worked at the pit got a coal allowance and once a month they would get a load of coal tipped in the back lane next to the coal hole in the wall, this was our coal house which went under the external back stairs, there was a door in the yard where you went in to get your bucket full to take upstairs, it was always wet in there as the rain poured in through the stone steps. The coal had to be shovelled in before nightfall or it would be gone by morning, I reckon the load would be about a ton. The older lads would make a bit of pocket money shovelling it in and often through the night the burglars were out pinching it from your coal house in the yard. But things going bump in the night in them days was easily heard, as the single glazed sash windows never shut properly and bits of paper was stuffed in to stop them rattling. Me Da was a miner so we got the coal, and Ginny Walton from downstairs would often come and buy a few pails of coal from us, it was about a tanner (sixpence), or a bob (shilling) a pail. which came in all forms of colour and sizes.
My bed was in the small room at the back of our three bed upper flat at 10 Millfield Lane and in the winter it was lovely as me bum was snug up against the wall of the fire next door.
One of the tasks put to me was to put the washing line out, we had a pulley wheel above the back door and so did Bryn Winters who lived opposite. I would thread the line over ours walk down to the middle landing, hoy, it over the wall into the lane then over Bryn's wall opposite, walk upstairs, put through their pulley and do the reverse, tie a knot and that was the washing line done. The downstairs had the worst as their line was at street level and when a delivery came in the street they had to run out and lift the washing out the way. Us on bikes often rode through the washing and ended up with some peculiar things around our necks as scarfs. Bryn who lived opposite was about a year older than me and had a brother Clem, who was a year younger than me. Bryn and me used to have about four fights a day but he always got the better of me as his Da had taught him how to box. So! "Reet" I thought, "I am ganna get that Charles Atlas course oot the paper wi me pocket money" -what a load of rubbish, there was about a hundred pages. If I remember reet, we used it to light the bonner (bonfire). Oh, and when I was fifteen I actually got the better of him in the snooker hall in Newburn. I got barred for a bit but it was worth it. Then we became friends because you didn't fall out forever then. His Da was Welsh, hence the names, he kept pigs up the allotments and every week I used to take the peelings from Sunday dinner and you would get a handful of bullets (sweets). We would often go up to the pig sty and he would be in the shed with a big boiler going from a wood fire beneath, the smell of the stuff boiling was lush, it just smelled like broth.

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