Childhood
Sunniside White Elephant School
By 1923 the number of children attending Marley Hill school was so great that it was decided to open a Temporary Infant School.
It is recorded in Marley Hill School Log Book:-
20th April 1923
Hannah Armstrong, Head Teacher, Lesley Cuthbert C.A. and Ethel Smith P.T. finish duty today and will commence on the 23rd at Sunnisice Temporary Council School. The Sunniside children have been transferred to the Temporary School, and the other children remain as an Infant class or in the Mixed Department.
Consequently the temporary school opened, with 62 children on roll, on April 23rd 1923 in the Sunniside Church Hall of St. Cuthbert's Church, Marley Hill, which was situated on Gateshead Road.
The hall, which had been built in 1914, was of pebbledash construction, consisting of a T-shaped hall with a stage. It was rented to Durham Authority at a 'pepper corn' rent of 1/- per annum. A temporary action to fulfil a need, which lasted 40 years!
In the beginning the school was heated by a coke stove, which appeared to have caused major problems. Many references are made to this.
7th December 1925
The temperature at 9 a.m.was 34º. The essential subjects were taken and the rest of the morning was spent in marching and exercises to warm the children. Mrs. Jobling sent over a large milk-can ful of cocoa. This we dispensed to the children who were exceedingly cold by 10.30 a.m.
23rd February 1931
A new boiler was installed.
Even in 1945 low temperatures forced the Head Teacher to close the school.
February 1962
At 9 o'clock the school was filled with smoke fumes. the boiler registered 90º and the temperature in school was 34º.
14th January 1963
School supplied with two oil heaters as water system was out of commission.
This building, being a church hall, was also used for various activities in the evening, namely Church Lad's Brigade, Youth club, Sunday School Meetings, etc. Several incidents of damage to equipment are recorded.
In 1955 an H.M.I. report reads:- (41 on roll)
"Recently various alerations have rendered the premises more suitable for school purposes. These have includede the paving of the playground, the repainting of the interior of the building in light colors, the installation of extra heating apparatus, the partitiioning of an alcove to form a staff room and the removal of material unconnected with the school, which has given better facilities for the storage of equipment. The two teaching spaces in the hall are separated by a curtain. There is a scullery for use with the school meals, which is prepared at a central kitchen (Burnopfield) and served in the hall to about 12 children each day. Cloakroom and sanitary provision are adequate in amount, but there is no constant supply of hot water to any of the pupils' washbasins.This is a very pleasant school in which the children rapidly acquire confidence and a keen interest in their work."
The school enjoyed a stable staff there being only three Head Teachers, during its lifetime. Namely:- Miss Hannah Armstrong 1923 - 1948, Miss Lesley Cuthbert 1949 - 1951, Miss
Mabel Davison 1951 - 1962. Finally Mrs.A Grant saw the school closed 31st May 1963 with only 15 pupils on roll.
What happened to the building afterwards? For a while it stood idle and then it was sold by the church on the 25th November 1965 to the Dumigan brothers. They tried to develop it but were refused planning permission. It was then sold to Mr. McClennan, a Heating Engineer, who used it as a depot/warehouse. It was burnt to the ground in a spectacular fire on 7th March 1975. Eventually Mr. H. Brown bought the site and built a bungalow 'High Trees' in 1984.
Why the 'White Elephant School'? Who knows? Perhaps it was because so many varied activites took place there, one being a "temproary" school.
Swalwell School
Swalwell Board School was opened in 1874/5 by Whickham School Board, coming under the jurisdiction of Durham County Council in 1904 and Gateshead Metropolitan Borough Council in1974. Having been extended in 1893 it functioned as a school for all age groups until 1964 when seniors attended Whickham school. In 1973 the infants moved to a new school in Southview Terrace and in 1987 the juniors also moved there and the old school was closed and demolished.
Florence Wood's Memories of her father in Dunston Hill Hospital
In 1935 my Father was sent to Dunston Hill Hospital. He had been wounded in France and it was thought they would find something to relieve the pain and inflammation. My mother visited him there every week. There were many men in the hospital who lived there all their lives as they had nowhere else to go. Some had relatives, but because they were badly wounded or shell shocked, the relatives would not have them back. All the men wore blue suits in the hospital. After a few months he returned home but wasn't much better, so he was sent back in l937. Again my mother visited him every week, and on one memorable occasion took we three children with her. I remember the train journey to Newcastle and then a bus from Marlborough Crescent to Whickham. We were made a great fuss of by the men as they rarely saw children. One very cheerful man had had his legs amputated at the knees and he could move faster on his stumps than most of the other men on their feet. He would jump from the floor to his bed and then jump from bed to bed around the ward. He had a wonderful spirit and kept the ward entertained with his antics and jokes. Again my father returned home after a few months but never returned to the hospital because of the Second World War. He died in 1958 aged 64, which was quite a long life considering his health and experiences. He and my mother were married 35 years but she was a widow for 45 years as she lived until she was 101 years old.
The old wooden huts now stand empty. There is a new brick built NHS hospital catering for physiotherapy and a hospice ward.
Photographs taken at Dunston Hill Hospital
Games
Kick the Block. A favourite game for a mixed group of children. It was really just Hide and Seek but the " Block" was a large tin. After being spotted the children would stand near the tin. If a boy or girl kicked away the tin without being spotted the captives were released and the Blocker had to replace the tin in the circle before beginning the search again for prisoners. The game went on for hours.
Hopscotch (Bays) were everywhere. Both boys and girls played it. The skill was throwing the 'dabber' into the circle you needed. Starting from one you had to go to eight, hopping in each circle without touching a line. Having mastered this game you went on to "Hitchy Dabber". This was a very difficult game and certainly strengthened your leg muscles. You had to hop on one leg and kick the dabber into each numbered circle without it landing on a line. The dabber was a piece of flat sandstone or tile and was carried in our pockets so we could play the game at any time.
Two-Baller was a game played by girls and played at great speed. Using two rubber balls or tennis balls the girls threw them one after another against the wall, catching them and throwing them back rapidly, counting each throw as they did so. When a ball was dropped the other girl took over. The winner was the girl who caught the most balls while the opponent chanted a rhyme.
Skipping. Girls loved their skipping ropes and would spend hours happily skipping while singing their countless jingles. When there was a group skipping, a clothes line was borrowed and everyone joined in. A broken clothes line was a disaster for mother but was great for children for boys could use it for lariats for 'cowboys and indians' and girls for skipping ropes. Few had bought ropes - they had no money so hawkers were pestered for the straw ropes which were around the boxes of fruit.
Queenie. Another popular game was Queenie. It was a simple game to play, so young children joined in with the elders. A child with a ball stood her back to a row of children- she would throw the ball over her head to the children. After a little skirmish a child would get the ball and hide it behind her back. All the row would stand innocently with their hands behind their backs. When the ball was safely hidden, the row of children would chant: 'Queenie, queenie, who's got the ball I haven't got it It isn't in my pocket Queenie, queenie, who's got the ball?' The girl in front would then turn around and examine each face and body and choose a child. If she was right that child went to the front, if not she repeated the act.
Jack-Shine-A-Maggy. A similar game to Relievo, it was played after darkness had set in and everyone had a torch, and on the cry of 'Jack-shine-a-maggy' the hunted had to flash their torches, thus giving away their hiding places which meant a quick switch of hiding place. We ran miles in those games so no doubt we slept well after them.
Relievo. A team game for the energetic boys and girls. One side chased the other side and on catching prisoners returned them to a large bay, already marked out and guarded by a boy. The aim of the other team was to rush into the bay, tag a prisoner or two, and escape with him without being tagged by the guard. This was usually accompanied by a yell of 'Relievo'.
Hot Rice. Another easy game. A child using a bat, an old tennis racquet or a piece of wood would hold it in front of her legs while others threw a ball to hit her legs below the knee. The successful child took over the bat, moving round to make it more difficult to be hit.
Games compiled by Col. Alex Johnson.
My First Day at St Mary' s School Whickham-1997
“My first day at school was very good. At 7 o’clock my Mum woke me up. I bounced out of bed, raring to go. I got washed and dressed into my grey dress with a pleated bottom. Also I had my light blue polo shirt with my grey tights and black shiny shoes. When I was ready I brushed my hair and looked at myself in the mirror. This was it! I was starting school and I wasn’t really nervous, mostly excited. As I walked down the stairs my Mum popped out with the video camera, taping every step I made. I have always wanted to go on the bus and today I was getting on it.�?
“I remember I put on my uniform. My polo shirt and grey pants with a blue sweater. My Mum used to drive me to school at 8.45am. On certain days we went into the computer room and went on the computers. My Mum picks me up in the car at the end of school.�?
“I was on the bus and my Mum was holding my hand and tightly squeezing it. She said ‘I don’t want you to go but you have to’. My Mum looked for my name in the cloakroom. I was right in the middle. Above my name was a picture and I was a yellow and orange ice-lolly. In the classroom I remember seeing lots of toys and bright colours. There was a bright red carpet and at the far end there were loads of children just like me. Some were crying and some just sitting there by themselves. I sat next to my teacher. I was nearly under her chair�?.
“I was really excited but still very nervous when I started school. My Mum took a photo of me in my new school uniform. My Mum took me to school. Then I came back on the bus. I had loads of fun. I played in the water and sand-box. On the second day I cried and didn’t want to leave my Mum, but then I had fun.�?
“When I got in we put our coats on pegs. Each peg had a name on and a picture. Mine was a tree. We went into the classroom and the teachers introduced themselves. They had made name bands for us, and when the register was called you got your name-band which went round your waist, like a belt. I had school dinner and reception always goes in first.�?
“I was looking forward to being in ‘big’ school, as I called it. I walked into what looked like an interesting classroom. It was great playing in the sand and water.�?
I remember there were children that looked like giants. A teacher came out of the door and rang the bell. My Mum took me to line up. All the giants were going in first and our line went in. I started to cry because I was nervous but excited. My teacher showed me around. It was cool. Our class, Reception, had our own toilets. After dinner the teacher read everybody a story and I fell asleep. The story was Little Red Riding Hood.�?
My teacher was really nice and kind. She showed us all of the classrooms. I remember this girl put sand in my hair and then soaked me with water. Sometimes I missed my Mum and felt like crying but I was scared in case some of the big boys and girls laughed at me. I had an older brother but he was usually too busy playing football. Playtimes were great, but I often got knocked down by the crazy kids. They were huge.�?
“My first lesson was sponge painting and at the end of the day I got a ‘well-done’ sticker.�?
“My Mum was telling me to remember to hand in my Dinner Money and to be sensible and careful. I made a lot of friends that day and it made me happy to know that I wouldn’t be alone at playtime.�?
“When I got there I peered round the corner and started to cry. I felt as if I was tiny because all of the other children were massive compared to me. At lunch time I saw all of the other children eating their dinner. I had dinner too. I thought the dinners were lovely�?.
“ Reception was great! I remember friends who were cool. We did everything together. We would make up games and we would go to each other’s houses for tea. I had a friend. We would have ‘sleep-overs’ and joint birthday parties. Everything was really fun. I felt very special with all my friends around me. It was fantastic.�?
Scrumping.
Unusual incidents during school years often stay in our minds throughout our lives.
As lads living in the West End, our leisure times were spent around the top of Whickham Bank, the Pit Corner and Cook's field off West Street. This would be around 1918-1922.
One night in late summer, an adventure of scrumping took place. Six of us lads walked along to the East End. The venue was the orchard on Duckpool Lane.
We had quite a successful night, apples and pears stuffed up our gansys, caps full of gooseberries and redcurrants. It was dusk returning to the West End. It was a never-ending chew, chew besides giving some of our loot away to other boys on the way. I had a belly ache all night and dare not tell mother. Next morning at school it was the same story from other boys.
After the Assembly prayers and calling the register in the main hall, the master called out names - mine included - to come before him.
Alas, someone had blabbed and grassed, we got a severe telling off and a lecture on trespass and stealing other people's property.
Florence Wood's Memories of her father and of Dunston Hill Hospital
My father, William Henry Thompson, was born in West Hartlepool on the 31st March, 1894, the eldest of six children. He left school at 14 and went to live and work on a Yorkshire farm.
When the First World War broke out in 1914 he volunteered immediately and joined the Green Howards. He was in the second contingent to arrive in France, when the first army arrived, the Kaiser, when informed of the number of men in it, said 'that contemptible little army', these men then became known as the 'old contemptibles'.
The second army was much bigger so no comment was made about them. The second army marched across France to the front line, with full pack. They became tired and thirsty and so stopped at street pumps for water, only to find that some of the French had chained these pumps so the British army could not get water. They continued tired and thirsty until they reached their camp for the night.
Sometime in 1916 my father was wounded in the leg and after being sent to the field hospital was sent to England to recuperate for a few weeks and then sent back to France. In 1918 he was wounded in the arm and while he was lying semi-conscious in a shell hole with his arm outside it, a stray bullet hit him in the wrist. This time during his recuperation in England the war ended, so he did not go back to France.
At some point during the war, the Germans sent gas over the British lines which badly affected my father's lungs . In later years because of his weakened lungs, he developed pleurisy every winter and pneumonia a few times. The doctor informed my mother that his body was at least 20 years older than his age because of what he went through during the war.
It was then found that his arm, wounded at the elbow, had not been set properly at the field hospital, so the ends of the bones did not join completely. The ends of the bones not joined together began to decay and so he had inflammation and great pain for the rest of his life. The wrist and leg wounds healed completely but bits of shrapnel worked their way out of his leg right up to the year he died.
In 1935 he was sent to Dunston Hill Hospital as it was thought they would find something to relieve the pain and inflammation. My mother visited him there every week. There were many men in the hospital who lived there all their lives as they had no-where else to go. Some had relatives, but because they were badly wounded or shell shocked, the relatives would not have them back. All the men wore blue suits in the hospital. After a few months he returned home but wasn't much better, so he was sent back in l937. Again my mother visited him every week, and on one memorable occasion took we three children with her. I remember the train journey to Newcastle and then a bus from Marlborough Crescent to Whickham. We were made a great fuss of by the men as they rarely saw children. One very cheerful man had had his legs amputated at the knees and he could move faster on his stumps than most of the other men on their feet. He would jump from the floor to his bed and then jump from bed to bed around the ward. He had a wonderful spirit and kept the ward entertained with his antics and jokes. Again my father returned home after a few months but never returned to the hospital because of the Second World War. He died in 1958 aged 64, which was quite a long life considering his health and experiences. He and my mother were married 35 years but she was a widow for 45 years as she lived until she was 101 years old.
Kathleen Bambrough remembers.
Memories of a Whickham childhood in the ‘40’s
Katleen Bambrough age 3.
It was a good place to live, the village where I was born. Like dozens of others in the northeast it had a pit, a post office, shops, churches, Miners Welfare Hall and we had a Picture house.
The village was in the countryside, we children played hide and seek in the grain fields. Once there was a haystack to climb, with difficulty, but the view from the top was worth it. Such fun we had with the bales of hay spilling over us as we slid back down to the ground. We made an awful mess. The farmer never had another haystack in that particular place again; it was too near the houses.
The back lanes in between the rows of Council Houses were ideal places for children to play. We were even allowed to play out at night in the lamplights and told not to wander off. If we were feeling daring, we might have a game called “Knocky Nine Door�?, pull the thread we had attached to a letter box and then run away and hide, when someone answered the door.
Skipping ropes were popular, also bouncing small balls against a wall. We sang various rhymes with these games. The boys played football and marbles, the girls Top and Whip. The wooden top was chalked with a pattern on the top of it.
Washing the family clothes took all day - always on a Monday.
The washing machine had to be filled with buckets of hot water. The handle on the top of the washer had to be pushed endlessly back and forth to agitate the clothes to get them clean. Then the clothes had to be rinsed and put through the mangle.
Other loads of clothes had to go through the same process. Finally the water was drained away by a hose attached to the washing machine. The scullery was always full of steam. The washing could be hung across the back lanes to dry but we did have a back yard.
I dreaded the coal man coming.
He would open the sacks of coal and pile them up into a big heap outside the coalhouse door in the back lane. Never on a Monday! Two of us had to shovel the coal into buckets and then tip them through the door at the top of the coalhouse. There was another door into the coalhouse in the backyard. It was hard work removing the coal; my sister and I had to help the same as the lads in the family.
The living room was the only warm room in the house. We would pull the couch up to the coal fire and your cheeks could burn but your back would be cold. Mam would sit and do her proggy mats there. I tried a few times to help, but it was hard work on your fingers. My main job was cutting the rags up into strips ready to be worked into the mats.
Mam had a treadle sewing machine. She did plenty of patching and mending on it. I remember when my pinafore dress got too short for me, she put pieces of material into the shoulders to lengthen it, never mind that the armholes went down to my waist. I had to go to the Senior School dressed that way. You could always pick out the children who were not well off.
Our bedrooms were not heated, no duvets then or double glazing. No fitted carpet on the floor - just oilcloth with a piece of carpet near the bed if you were lucky. On really cold nights when ice formed on the inside of the windows, we piled our coats onto the bed to keep warm.
One of my brothers kept birds’ eggs under the bed, a hobby in those days, now it is illegal. The eggs nestled in cotton wool in wooden boxes. You had to put holes in the eggs with a needle and then suck the liquid out or they went bad inside. I loved to look at them, so delicate and all sizes and colours.
The local Picture House showed three different pictures a week, with two performances a night. The queue would form in the back lane for the second house to go in. It was good value with a ‘B’ picture or cartoons first, then the news, and trailers for the pictures showing the following week before the main picture came on. If the reel of film broke in the middle of a showing there was much stamping of feet and whistling until they fixed it.
Oh Happy Days!
Helen Nordmann. At School in Whickham.
In 1931 when I was 8 years old I started Whickham council school as it was then called. I was glad to have left my infant school in Durham, as I was terrified of the head master. He would burst into the classroom and grab some screaming 5 year old to his room for a beating and I had nightmares thinking he would pounce on me.
In my new school I had no such worries, as the head master was my dad Mr Kennedy. I was put in Miss Longstaff’s class. Later I heard she had been told never to make me a monitor or single me out in any way. At that age I could not understand why I was never chosen for anything but it meant I was popular with the other girls. In fact some of them thought it was not fair! After all these years I can remember their names, the Turner twins, Hilda and Marjorie, Joan Morpeth, Della Gibuns, Rose Guthrie and the teachers Mr Emmerson, Mr Kempton, Mr Ruddick and Mr Parker. Mr Ruddick took music and produced fine choirs but woe betide any one who came late or missed a practice. Mr Parker was a quiet man who rarely used the strap. His woodwork room was at the top if the stairs and always seemed to be full of boys absorbed in what they were doing. He also took over the school garden which was behind the Hermitage. When Mr Parker got promotion Mr Green took over and later Major Johnson.
As well as Miss Longstaff the women teachers were Miss Hutchinson, Miss Harbut, Miss Veitch and Miss Green who took cookery down the stairs. My father’s room was upstairs with a view of the boys' yard. The girls' yard was on a vicious slope with dreadful toilets at the bottom. These were only used in a dire emergency. Actually the school has not changed much. The toilets are inside but the oblong hall with classrooms leading off on either side has not changed. All equipment is vastly improved but there is no woodwork or cookery as all the children move on at the age of 11.
When I was there the infant department was in charge of a rather vague lady called Miss Melvin. Her main aim was for her pupils to recite a poem for the chapel anniversary. I often heard my father say that he could never discuss anything with her as she insisted he heard a poem. She was also very deaf and would not admit to it. Hearing aids were not in use so many bizarre exchanges took place. My father heard the following. Small boy, “Please miss can I leave the room? Puzzling reply, “Yes pet get one in the cupboard?". I remember wishing I could say a piece at the anniversary but I went to the Church of England.
I felt safe at school despite the strap being used, as the main method of keeping order especially by 2 of the men. It was a quiet hard working place. My father was popular as he was firm but fair. I hated the way he asked every morning how I had done in mental arithmetic, which we had to do every morning. I don’t think I ever got 10 out of 10, 6 or 7 was the norm and not good enough. I did not like arithmetic at all though I knew my tables. The 11 plus exam dominated those early years. There were far too few places at Blaydon Grammar School for the large catchment area it covered. So many bright children missed their chance and if a school got more than 4 scholarships out of a class of 30 it was very good. Without any pressure I just knew how much it would mean to my father if I got a place. I was a voracious reader so I was good at English and had no problem with intelligence tests but my arithmetic dodgy and hating it and being scared did not help! As well as those interminable arithmetic lessons I did not like Group Reading. As I had the designated book finished first session and then had to endure weeks while the slower readers stumbled through it.
Another lesson caused problems and that was Needlework. I kept losing my needle and when I found it I could never thread it. My stitches were uneven and I always was way behind the others. Poor Miss Hutchinson despaired so much that on one occasion she told me to take the horrible grubby overall home and finish the seam. Needless to say I did not rush to do it and as my mother was a firm believer in a fixed bedtime I was ordered upstairs and SHE would finish it. As she was no better than me her handiwork was met with horror. “Take these stitches out,? shrieked Miss Hutchinson. “They are worse than ever", I seethed, lost my needle and was in a bad state when I confronted my unrepentant mother. Now my dad was a lovely man but guileless and innocent in many ways and he found the episode funny and actually told Miss Hutchinson who did not find it amusing at all and was mortified. So this trivial episode caused distress all round and I have never forgotten it.
In the years I was at this school Whickham was a PIT village with 2 working mines. Many boys joined their fathers and uncles working underground at 14. The girls went into service and worked for pitiable wages until they married. There were 2 commercial colleges teaching shorthand and typing and they were an escape for those who could pay the fees. It is hard to believe that in those days there were no facilities at all in the village. Once a week in the school hall in the evening Library was held. This meant battered trunks were hauled out and a meagre selection of books was displayed. How I longed for a new book but in vain.
As there was no park the streets were our playground and the Pit streets were ideal. Oh, the games we played and the fun we had! Often I would go into a house and to me they were wonderful. There was generally a blazing fire a lovely smell of baking, a baby to be nursed and on rare wonderful occasions a miner playing the accordion. My own house did not compare well!
I hated the girls' yard and I believe that today the vicious slope still causes problems. I confess that in the winter the slides were magnificent but the rest of the year it was awful. My friends and I were great at bays and I regularly spent half my week’s pocket money on a block of chalk bought at a shop next to the school gates from a nice lady called Mrs Egglestone. With the rest of my penny I would buy a concoction called a soda lunch. My mother behaved as though it was poison, but I liked them as the sherbet could last a long time!
Every year my father arranged a trip for the whole school. On one memorable occasion we all went to Edinburgh. It must have been hard to organise but it was a great success. We had a special train and we went to the zoo. I bought my mother a hideous tartan trinket, which I was sure she would love, as she was Scottish.
Other diversions within the school year were the choir festivals. Mr Ruddick always had a good choir and sometimes we won the shield. There were 2 festivals one in the City Hall and one at Ryton. Mr Ruddick was a very strict disciplinarian and to miss a choir practice was a mortal sin. As there were no school dinners if you lived a long way from the school it was not easy to get back in time but no excuses were accepted in those days.
Of course the boys always had the excitement of the football team in which my father took a keen interest. Somehow he got them all in a maroon and blue strip but even he could only manage one very precious leather football. It was prized and only used for home games. I heard years later that one teacher soaked the ball before a match. This made the ball as heavy as lead and he told the Whickham boys not to head it! My father would have been horrified IF he believed it. He was such a fair man he could not have believed in such unsportsmanlike behaviour.
One abiding memory I have is teachers pay day. There were no banks or cheques just actual money. My father went to the bank and collected the cash. It was then divided accurately and each teacher was called to collect, check and sign.
John Handy, born 1904, remembers.
Whaggs Lane as a mud track with very few houses, following his older sister to the Parochial School when she returned from lunch and the teacher allowing him to sit in a corner of the classroom, a large space divided by chairs into two classes.
Starting his school life officially at the new primary school on Front Street in 1910 and his sister joining him there.
Seeing Dr. Andy Smith riding his horse to visit patients.
Yearly visits to the culvert near Duckpool Lane to see young foxes, also seeing ducks on the pond.
Wandering freely on Gibside and Ravensworth Estates.
Making bats and balls with which to play cricket.
Playing football in winter with local lads in the Junior Football League and on one occasion with the Queen Mother on one of her visits to Gibside!
Royalty regularly visiting Gibside, travelling from Newcastle Central Station by coach.
Wearing clogs during the First World War.
Playing Knocky Door Neighbour and Jack Shine a Low, name for Miner's lamp.
Attending the annual flower show and games in a field at the bottom of Rectory Lane.
In his last year at school helping the Head Teacher with his war work, i.e. selling savings bonds etc.
Joyce Newton Remembers
Joyce, who lived in James Street, started Front Street Infant School in 1932, when she was about 5 years old. She had already been in school twice with her sister, when her mother had to go somewhere, so it wasn't a totally new experience for her. There were 4 classes in the school. The Headteacher was Miss Melvin, who taught English and Poetry. Joyce became very interested in poetry because of Miss Melvin's influence. The other teachers were Miss Wheatley, of whom Joyce was particularly fond, Miss Wilson who taught Maths and Miss Kay who taught Music.
The children always performed plays at Easter and Christmas. There was a school trip every year, which was usually to the coast.
When Joyce was 7, her family moved to a colliery house near Watergate, but she still attended Front Street School. The lunch break was one and a half hours, so there was time for Joyce to walk home to have her lunch. When her father was out of work her mother got a job, but she still went home to have lunch, as her father was there.
When Joyce was about 8 years old she moved up into the Junior School. The Head Teacher was Mr Kennedy. The other members of staff, most of whom lived locally, were Mr Kempton, who became Head at Whickham Secondary Modern, Mr Parker, the Woodwork teacher, Mr Ruddick, the Music teacher, Miss Cousins, Miss Hutchinson, the Sewing teacher, Miss Longstaff and Miss Harbutt. Joyce's first class teacher was Miss Longstaff.
Joyce particularly remembers going into the hall for Music, having lovely Christmas parties when the children were given food in a bag to eat at your own desk, and being given extra school milk, which she hated, because she had a pale skin.
When Joyce was 10, her family moved again and she went to Marley Hill School.
A. Reed remembers.
Swalwell Board School had been opened for 26 years when I first attended it in 1901. Mr William Spears was then headmaster, a greatly respected man although much feared, as were all the teachers. They were great disciplinarians and punished any misbehaviour or insolence swiftly and effectively.
At 8.55 am each morning the bell, high up in the school roof, would be heard. That was the dreaded first bell heralding all to school. At 9.00am, lined up in Standards 1 to V11, the day began. Silence fell upon the class with the approach of "Miss" or "Sir", and would remain.
Class instruction was always given and whether the subject was understood or not silence reigned. No-one asked anything. Every subject was taken very seriously and written carefully in pen and ink. Any, unnecessary mistakes were dealt with by a quick rap over the knuckles. Particular attention was paid to writing and spelling. I remember the hours and hours of tedious practice, but we all left school able to read and write properly.
David Newton now living in the Philippines Remembers his Childhood in Swalwell.
Marbles
Sometime around Easter for a two or three week period, It was 'Liggy' season in Swalwell. A liggy as all Swalwellers know is a marble. They came in all shapes and sizes and had wonderful names like 'White Tornado' and 'Tiger's Eye' with the favourite game being 'Killer' played out over three holes. Wonderful expressions were used like 'Nowts nee Belchies' which literally meant, "Don't hit my marble too hard", and 'Tibby' which was obtaining a free shot by hitting two marbles at the same time.
Where these expressions came from is anyone's guess. Games were fast furious and caused the odd fracas when disputes arose for strange offences like throwing the marble instead of flicking it. There was a special name for this 'offence' but I can't remember it at the moment. It may have been 'Fullicking' - anyone remember? Then there was the 'Iron Ponka Brigade", those who used to use ball bearings instead of glass marbles--frowned upon to say the least.
Our venue for these games was.' The Marble Square' which was a patch of land located next to the shop of Ian Hepple's family at the top of Napier Road. The square held its name even when; games were not played. It was a landmark.
I still can't figure out why we decided that there was a season for playing liggies? Maybe it coincided with the Easter school holidays. It's in the distant past now.
Sledging
Located on the side of a hill, Swalwell was a natural place for sledging during wintertime. I didn't know anyone who didn't have a sledge. Some kids had the swish store bought kind but many were just home made and having fathers who worked in the local engineering factories, runners were easy to come by. There were many odd looking constructions but they all went.
How we were never killed is anyone's guess. Then there was the 'DEATH TRACK!'. A 30-foot almost vertical drop located in a field at the top of Plantation Avenue. Never quite saw the fun in this after smashing into a rock and nearly setting my neck!! Popular with those who lived in the Pre-fabs though!
The Coiner
The ‘coiner’ so named because you ‘coined aroond thi corners like’, was the summer-time equivalent of the sledge. Most kids had one, and all that was need to make it was an old plank of wood, an orange box, a couple of sets of pram wheels, a bolt and a bag of nails. They were great fun and tearing down Ruskin Road or Whickham bank on one could be hilarious. You braked by sticking your feet out in front of you. Terrible on the shoe leather and the ‘softies’ would usually add a makeshift brake which would lock onto the back wheel
They were also very handy for lugging the shopping or the odd bag of coal.
I have never seen one of these in nearly 30 years yet they were one of our ways of having great fun.
Spud Bashing
Spud Bashing was not the preparation of mashing potatoes for the Sunday Dinner; but the cold, wet, back-breaking work of picking potatoes for the local farmer. I did it once in 1963 for the princely sum of 10 shillings a week. It was the worst job I had ever done in my life and was glad when the week was over!
Every morning, at 7.00 armed with enamel buckets and a couple of jam sandwiches. We would be taken up the Lonnen to one of the potato fields on Smith's farm where we spent all day bent over collecting the potatoes churned up by whatever the appliance was called which did the job. Half an hour for a jam sandwich and a cup of tea and we were back at it until 5.30 in the evening. The 10 bob was spent at the Blaydon Pavilion at the end of the week and I realised the true meaning of slave labour. Apparently, and incredibly, similar work still exists in the UK!!!
Best Butter
As kids in 50s Swalwell the best you could ever expect to get on your bread was margarine except, that is, on Sundays, when out would come the 'Best Butter'. I can remember buying this for my mother the day before. It was stored in the grocery stores in large wooden barrels and the shopkeeper would cut it with a wire and wrap it for you in greaseproof paper. No pre-packing then! The 'Best Butter' would be served up with bread for our Sunday Tea and it was FORBIDDEN to put anything else on your bread when the 'Best Butter' was used. I remember the beautiful creamy taste and rich yellow colour much different from the butter sold today. It was a treat and Sunday was the only day we were allowed to have it. Where did it go???
The Meat Safe
Our family never got a refrigerator until sometime in the late 60s. As most of our food was always bought fresh anyway, there was never much call for the fridge. We did however, have a meat safe. This was basically a wooden cupboard with fine wire mesh front and sides and was designed more to keep the flies of meat rather than to keep it cool. It was kept in the bottom of the pantry, which was probably the coolest spot in our house anyway. All of our meat; the joint, sausages, bacon etc was stored in here. In all the years that it was used, I can't ever remember our meat going off in this contraption. I think it eventually became a rabbit hutch.
The Club Trip
I don't think they are held any more but the annual Club Trip was one of the most awaited events in Swalwell - up until the mid 60s anyway. Most kids never really got out of the village much. Even a shopping trip to Newcastle 4 miles away was an adventure, so the Club Trip was something special. The village would empty on the day of the trip and whole families would converge on Swalwell station to take the special train to Tynemouth, Cullercoats or Whitley Bay, whichever was the chosen destination for the day. Going to the beach may seem like nothing these days but that ONE day would be talked about for weeks.
Our mothers would spend the previous evening preparing sandwiches and other nibbles which would be complimented by Fish n' Chips at the Beach. (I don't know why but they always tasted better there)
Our clothes would be prepared - nearly always new t-shirt and shorts - and our sandshoes would be painted white. We were spick and span when we turned out for the event.
The steam train would normally take about an hour and a half to reach the coast (about 13 miles away) and the ride was an exciting part of the day. Once at the beach, fathers and elder brothers would disappear to the nearest pub, mothers would rent the deck chairs and tents (for changing clothes) and then spend the rest of the day sunbathing and nattering with the group they were in. The kids would head straight for the sea or to the rocks to collect shells and crabs. Later we would get money from our parents to go to the Spanish City in Whitley Bay or the Tynemouth amusement arcade.
A great day would be had by all and we would return home with our candy rock and souvenirs; tired, sunburned but still excited from the great day out we had had.
A few years ago I spent 3 months touring the US and a further 3 months touring Europe - they couldn't compare to the feeling I had when I went on the Club Trip.
Sheila Carver Remembers Swalwell.
My mother moved to Mill Farm in 1911. I was born at Mill Farm, Swalwell the home of my grandparents George and Hannah Oxley and formerly the home of my great grandparents George and Elizabeth Oxley.
We never had a library but books were brought to Swalwell Church one evening a week. Most of the churches in my youth had some form of children's club running. The Headmaster too used to show films one evening a week and we used to pay 4d in old money. The teachers also often ran some form of club in the evening.
The Hoppings came every year to Swalwell. They used to be on the field behind Ridley Gardens. They used to get their water from the people who lived on Ridley Gardens and the children whose parents supplied the water received free rides.
All food was delivered to the door in those days from Grocers to Green grocers to Butchers and even vans with cakes.
Children from Swalwell, would come on Easter Monday and ask them if they could roll their eggs down our hill. My grandmother would sit on a chair at the bottom supplying eggs to children who did not have any. After this event, she would always direct her hens to the field and they would pick up all the shells dropped by the children from the eaten eggs.
Lots of children would play on the Hikey Bridge as we called it, because we liked jumping up and down on to make it move.
Sadly, grand-dad Oxley, died in 1946, and we shifted from the farm then and Uncle George went to live in the house.
Diphtheria - Sheila Carver
In 1944 both my sister and I had diphtheria. I was in hospital for six weeks but my sister was in for eight weeks and never off the danger list because she was terribly ill and could not walk for months. Lots of children died when we were in Norman's Riding Hospital. I know two children from Swalwell died so I suppose that we were lucky. I sadly was the carrier and had been immunized just the month before by Doctor Edward Smith. They were doing the immunizations in the old house, which once stood in Whickham Park. We were given nothing to eat for three weeks only hot milk, which I hated. We were also given a dose of Cascara every Friday night, such vile stuff, how primitive, every child could not possibly have needed that! Such were the times, doctors today would not agree with that policy.
Early Days-A Boy goes to School in Swalwell.
I was born on March 25th 1940, which was Easter-time and 6 months into World War 2, in the village of Swalwell, which was then in the county of Durham. I started Infant School after the Easter Holiday in April 1945. The war in Europe was still going on. It ended in May 1945 but the war in the Far-East lasted until the end of August.
I, like most children, thought that being sent to school was some sort of punishment, devised by adults to keep children in their place. The same idea as whatever all children seemed to ask for was met with the reply "No, you can't have it, there's a war on". (Much like the politicians of today promising "Jam and Good Things Tomorrow", but no way now.)
Most of the children starting school were examined by a School Doctor and a "Dickie" Nurse. Most were suffering some health problems because of poor diet during the war years eg. no fruit, too plain a diet with not enough starch or protein and not enough food. I had a dry, scurvy skin with body spots and was under-weight, so was given a special allocation of Virol (malt) and concentrated orange juice for Vitamin C (normally only for babies). I was 8 or 9 years old before I knew what a banana was or chocolate. I thought only boiled sweets were made. They, and everything else, were obtained via a "Ration Book" if available. Rationing remained in force for some things until 1954, the year after the Queen's Coronation.
Children started school straight after their 5th birthday (no nursery schools then). There were 38 boys and girls in my class. We were given a pottery beaker of milk each morning at 10.45 am and sometimes, special treats of pieces of cheese or Horlick's tablets. Once we were sent a crate of red apples, a present from the children of Canada. We got 2 apples each, what a treat!
The toilets were outside in the school yard. They often froze up in the winter, so we were sent home. There seemed to be a lot of snow in those days.
When the war ended, we all paraded in the school-yard, along with the Senior School, to sing "Land of Hope and Glory" and "God Save the King".
There were always plenty of textbooks, crayons, pencils, etc for all the children. The desks were doubles, so two had to sit together. This could cause a problem if no-one wanted to sit beside you. The teachers, all women, were held in awe. They were kind, but firm, and the Head Mistress had a cane, which she used if necessary. We had to collect Rose Hips in the Autumn time, with the help of our parents, to be used for the making of Rose Hip Syrup, which was rich in Vitamin C. We kept daily records, on the classroom wall, of each day's weather, by means of symbols of the sun, rain etc. We had large wall maps of the World, with lots of countries in Red. This, we were told, was the British Empire, owned by us. (Within 10 years, most had demanded and got independence.)
Early days at school were mainly pleasant, even with war rationing, and most children got on with each other.
A Sad Childhood Memory.
On February, the 13th 1933, Thomas Lynn (61), an unemployed miner and his wife Mary Jane Lynn (63), were found dead by their son in the upstairs room at 5, Cook's Buildings where they had lived for over 40 years. They were both suffering from terrible injuries. The state of the room indicated that there had been a grim struggle though the neighbours had heard nothing.
Henry Cotterell (21) employed as a putter at Whickham Colliery, occupied the same house as Mr and Mrs Lynn. Henry and his wife returned home about 11 o'clock to find the house in darkness. He knocked on the door but it was not answered, he kicked the door but there was no response. He went to his sister's house, Mrs Howell, who lived a few doors away in the same building. He obtained a key and a knife and returned. With the knife he pushed the key out of the lock but the key he had did not fit.
He then sought out his brother-in-law, George Lynn, who lived in the same street and he also informed Police Constable Atkinson who was on duty in the village. George managed to get the window open and discovered the tragedy.Constable Atkinson then forced the door open.
When Constable Edward Atkinson burst open the door a terrible spectacle met his eyes. Lying face downwards behind the door was the body of Mrs Lynn, she had head injuries caused by a blunt instrument - a heavy poker smeared with blood was found on the floor. In a corner was the body of her husband, his throat had been cut and the main artery severed and at his side was a blood stained table knife.
There were signs of a struggle, broken crockery scattered around the room and other signs of disorder.
It is thought that Mr Lynn was suffering from *nystagmus and had been receiving compensation. He was employed by Whickham Colliery but had not worked for the last two years.
When the funeral took place, Mrs Lynn's body was taken into church and then buried in consecrated ground. Mr Lynn's body was left at the bottom of the steps before the church and was not buried in consecrated ground.
Alma Willis lived near Mr and Mrs Lynn as a child and knew them well, she remembers her father saying at the time, "He didn't murder his wife, he took her with him."
*(Nystagmus Rapid involuntary movements of the eyes, that may be from side to side, up and down or rotary. It may be congenital and is associated with poor sight. It also occurs in disorders of the part of the brain responsible for eye movements and their co-ordination and in disorders of the organ of balance in the ear or the associated parts of the brain.)
Violet Watts born 1912.
The cokeworks at Marley Hill
Violet moved to Bensham when 8 months old but spent a great deal of time with her grandparents at Marley Hill until going to work in London in 1932. Her Grandfather worked at Marley Hill Cokeworks (known as the "German Cokeworks"). She remembers watching him looking after his pigeons and him sitting on the back doorstep knitting socks.
Hoppings
A notable event in Dunston was the Hoppings, a fair which was held in June on a piece of waste ground adjoining Ravensworth Road, and for which the schools were granted two days holiday.
In addition to the fair-ground attractions there were many organised sporting events and amidst all the activities two local characters, Teddy Whipps and Joe Chucks, were much in evidence. Teddy had a wooden leg, which he was known to take off and use as an offensive weapon on occasions. Joe, a rather docile chap used to take part in an annual walking race around the village. He wore shorts and had his head shaved and painted like an Easter egg. He generally came in last, but considering his frequent stops for liquid refreshment this was not to be wondered at.
Bloom’s Travelling Auction.
The visit of Bloom’s travelling Auction was another popular annual event. Sales of household goods by Dutch auction conducted in a huge marquee erected on land adjoining the Albert Picture Palace, and most of the assistants were both salesmen and accomplished entertainers. Thus, by a judicious mixture of auction and variety show, the proprietor ensured that the marquee was always full. But by no means all of the occupants were potential customers, for this was free entertainment that the younger generation eagerly took advantage of.
We were indeed always on the lookout for free entertainment, for pocket money, particularly by modern standards, was very meagre, and in fact we frequently had to resort to the petty crime of flattening a farthing on the tram lines to produce a ‘ha’penny for the purchase of a communal football edition!
But they were happy days, which perhaps were enjoyed the more because we had to make, rather than buy, our amusements.
Margaret Campbell.
"Worrying all the first day at school (1935), about home time.
I had heard such tales of rough behaviour from the older boys toward the new starters. Approaching the street outside the gate I heard a boy shout, "Leave her alain she's a Campbell's lass". Word had apparently spread that dad, after my older sister's experiences, had taught his daughters to defend themselves!
Hating percussion lessons, the teacher always chose me to be either conductor or to play a large triangle. I didn't like everyone looking at me and I wanted to play the drums. This task always went to a boy!
Playing with my (second hand) doll's pram, using someone else's tennis racquet for hot rice as our family didn't have one.
Emulating, Sonja Henie, on one roller-skate! A pair was expensive. You could actually buy one skate, which could be altered to fit different size feet; this was then used by the three Campbell girls.
Playing in "The Bungalow". Living in a tiny flat and making all our clothes and some for others, my mother was desperate for space and peace and quiet. My parents heard that someone had a pigeon cree for sale. It was duly inspected, negotiated for, dismantled and re-erected in our backyard leaving just enough room to get to the outside toilet, coal house, the gate to the back lane and access to the back lane shelter. It was scrubbed and disinfected, then painted, wallpapered, carpeted, furnished and equipped with crockery etc., We had some wonderful times there (and ate meals carried out on a tray by mam).
Walking with my family, around the Urban District. Sometimes 6 or 7 miles in an evening!
Mary Williams remembers.
"At last, the day arrived for me to start school. I had my new sixpenny case, from Woolworths. In it, was an apple for playtime. I reminded my mother frequently that she was to tell the mistress I was wearing my new boots. At last it was our turn to enter the mistress's office where I constantly nudged my mother and indicated the boots. At last, she said "Mary has new boots especially for today". They were duly admired. Then I was taken into the "baby" class to start what turned out to be a very happy school life.
"In my early days at school I hated to get it wrong. (I am still the same).
On arrival at school one day, I was horrified to find I did not have a slate rag. (Writing and sums were written with chalk, on a slate and a rag was essential). The said rag had to be held up in one hand and your handkerchief in the other at prayers (now called assembly).
What to do? I dashed into the toilet and tore a square out of the front of my petticoat it was plain green cotton with a lace edging.
All went well at school but when I got home, it was a different matter. My mother was furious. The "slate rag" was washed, then, sewn in again. I had to wear it for months, presumably to teach me that clothes were expensive and had to be looked after, carefully.
How I hated that petticoat"
In times of hardship.
"In the early 1930s when food was short some children went hungry. We were very fortunate in that my grandfather had an allotment, father's friend had a market garden, a cousin had a butcher's shop where we could get marrow bones for broth, and an uncle who was a railway linesman on the Carlisle route did a spot of poaching in his lunch hour.
One day my brother and I noticed children asking workers from the new Power Station if they had any " bait" left, and were given a newspaper parcel, which, when opened, seemed to be sandwiches. We stationed ourselves in a strategic position, "asked" and received a parcel, which proved to contain a jam sandwich - not of interest to us at all. Next minute we both received a sharp smack on the bottom, and were frog-marched home, by a very irate grandmother. Who lectured us all the way on how fortunate we were in always having enough to eat without any need to beg in the street - no treats for us that day from grandmother."
Flying Kites
Outdoor games were played in cycles-top and whip, marbles, skipping ropes, but when it came to kites my brothers and I were always sent up the road to ask Mr Clark to make us one with the instruction “don’t forget to ask nicely and�? DON’T FORGET TO SAY PLEASE.�?
We were always told to come back the next day and bring one string (saved from one old tattered kite).
The next kite was always ready- a cross made with two straight pieces of stick and part of the wooden hoop of a butter barrel was used to make a rounded top, the construction was carefully covered with newspaper skilfully glued on then a tail string with newspaper bows all the way down- wonderful Mr Clark would then send us over to the park to play fly it.
Sometimes he called us back and added some more tailing-perfect. Flying the kite usually kept us busy during the school holidays.
Sheila Carver
My first memories of the war were of men coming to the farm all dressed in different uniforms. going off to war. Most of them had played with my two cousins George and Tom at the farm. One young man, Jackie Rutter, was his name, walked up Millers Lane with me hanging from his neck.
He was in the RAF and was killed in Holland. When you enter St. Marys Church, Whickham, in the porch is a small stained glass window that the Scouts put in his memory.
My grandparents had purchased a Ford V8 car in about 1936-37, but sadly had to sell it to Whickham Council to be used for Civil Emergency in the war years.
I remember the balloons on the cricket field. I used to be very frightened, I remember that one got away and my cousin told me that men were in them and they would come and take me away.
German prisoners came to work on the farms during the war. The camp was on Lord Gort's estate at Hamsterly Mill. The prisoners, Italian and German worked on local farms travelling daily by bus. My sister and I went with grandma and Mrs Clark to look around the prison camp. The coach driver took us there and we went to so many farms picking up, that the bus got full. My sister and I ended up sitting on two German's knees.
Two of my cousins went off to war and as they had made a fuss of me I missed them terribly, but suddenly the Germans came to work; one whose name was Helmut, came to East Farm. I found him like my cousins. We used to tease him, shouting:-
There will always be an England
And England shall be free
Because of our brave army
Air force and Navy".
He used to pretend to be mad and throw turnips at us.
His home was in Leipzig. When the war ended I have often wondered what happened to him as that was in the Russian Zone. He was not bothered about going back to Germany because all his family were killed during the war. When the war ended, he would come to the pictures at Blaydon, grandma always insisting that he sat beside us in case of any trouble.