My Memories Of Perivsle

I was born in Acton in January, 1933, and my family moved to 35 Federal Road, Perivale, when I was two weeks old. We lived almost opposite the Perivale primary schools, which had been erected as temporary buildings, and I believe I was four-years-old when I joined the infants' school. The lovely Miss (or Mrs?) Painter was my first teacher, and I was heartbroken when I had to leave her class, presumably a year later. Miss Betley, I think, was my next teacher, and my next memories centred on my time in the junior school. I did not enjoy continuous education there, having had to move to Wales, and then to North East Scotland, as my Mother followed my Stepfather's Royal Navy postings. I somehow dodged school in Wales, but education finally caught up with me after a long spell of 'freedom' in Scotland. I can't remember when I arrived back in Perivale, but my memories include a continuous smell of left-over milk, and being caned two or three times by Charlie Neville, who used to go to school wearing a leather-like flying helmet. Living opposite the school, it was easy for us to quickly get into the air raid shelters, built on school land, almost before the warning sirens had finished. Later, we had a metal Morrison shelter installed in the house. The area was particularly dangerous because of the nearby Hoover factory - now, I believe, a Tesco site - which had been turned over to producing aircraft components, and was a target for German bombers. I am told that they made more holes on the local golf course than in the factory building! I also remember the noise of an anti-aircraft gun, or guns, which we referred to as Big Bertha.

Re the above, I omitted to identify myself - I am Terry O'Gorman. I would love to hear from anybody who remembers me, though coming up for 84, I wonder how many of my old school chums are left. After the war, I was a paper boy at Youdons the newsagent, and was later allowed to work in the shop before going to higher schools, first in Ealing, and then Acton. I used to be in the shop at 0530, and somehow always managed to arrive at school in time. On Saturdays, I helped the milkman, for the princely sum of twopence (in old money).