Yesterday When I Was Young

A Memory of Wordsley.

I moved to Wordsley when my father died in a tragic motorcycle accident in Old Hill, although I was born in Bradley Rd, Stourbridge in 1948. We moved to Wordsley in 57 or 58. Some of my memories are so vivid of the days I lived there. A truly magical place back then. I remember very well the demise of the papershop owner - they called him sporty - yes it was said he set the shop on fire and committed suicide - whether that was actually true I do not know. I lived with my mother, older sister Maureen six yrs my senior, my older brother Robert, exactly 18 months older than me to the day. We were affectionately called the terrible twins. Yes we probably deserved it! We lived in Chapel St at the top of Wordsley. The Wordsley of today bears little resemblance to the Wordsley of my formative years. I recon if you cut me in two I would have Black Country written all the way through, just like a stick of Blackpool rock. I hope the memories good or bad never leave me. Perhaps I should write the book that supposedly we all have hidden inside. Reg Farwell.