1947 1981
A Memory of Mitcham.
I was born in Mitcham in 1947. We lived at the Gun Site which was situated next to Mitcham Station. There were still some soldiers there when I was born, they were separated by a wire fence. They were the days of freedom when children could play out without any fear. There was a house at the entrance of the site next to the railway station, a deaf lady used to live there and I remember being scared of her because she made funny noises. We lived next door to a blind lady who used to make cakes and always stuck her finger in the mixture to taste it. There were a lot of children living there, it was quite a little community. The doors were always open, and everybody helped each other. The ice cream man used to come round on his bike and the rag and bone man with goldfish and balloons. We had a tin bath, no bathroom, and my dad kept chickens in the garden with one rooster. My sisters and I went to Hackbridge Corner School.
In 1955 we moved to Mitcham into a new block of flats they were building called Beaumont Court, on the Laburnam Estate. What luxury to have a bathroom and a separate toilet. I remember the trolley bus and trolley lines on the London Road, the toilet block next to the clock and a news stand next to it where you had to run across the road to get to it in fear of the traffic. I went to St Mark's School, my class teacher was Mr Freemantle, who insisted that I stand in a corner and learn my nine times table until I knew it off by heart. Miss Bowlie made me sit at dinner time until I had eaten all the gristlely meat until my plate was empty. Does anyone remember Miss Feather the needlework teacher? I used to love the frothy cream on the butterscotch tart! I have a photo taken of the children in about 1955, unfortunately I don't remember any of the names. If you are interested contact me at mail@isabeljarrett.co.uk and I will send you a copy. I have many memories, too many to list.
Add your comment
You must be signed-in to your Frith account to post a comment.
Add to Album
You must be signed in to save to an album
Sign inSparked a Memory for you?
If this has sparked a memory, why not share it here?
Comments & Feedback