Plymouth Stories

Tag: keyham

  • Community Shops

    Community Shops

    Before I go on to other areas for posterity, it may be useful to list by street the shops that we could use during the mid 1940’s. Admiralty St had no shops other than a hairdresser opposite the railway bridge to Saltash Rd. My cousin daughter Aunty Vera, Mary Monk ran this for several years. Her husband Peter always seemed to pick up draught chits in the Navy and was getting two year postings to ships away for quite a while. He was a carpenter P.O and eventually did end up at Raleigh.

    Fleet St from the top, Gilbard’s corner shop opposite Mrs Tremain’s Ironmongers and she was opposite the gents barber. On the next corners were Slade’s facing a row of four shops owned and run by Co-op general grocery, butcher, greengrocer. The off license on the next corner was where my paternal Gran lived most of her time, with her sister Amy who ran the shop. They faced Northcott’s who was next door to Mrs Clark and her sister Mrs Santillo who were both widows running a very successful shop. Her son Tony Clark was probably my closest friend in growing up. At the bottom Ernie Baker, who never looked clean greengrocer next to a chip shop. On the opposite corner was a shop that was always changing in use electrical, furniture never consistent at any real range.

    Victory St from the top middle corner was a general store opposite the Victory Hall which will play a big role in later pages. On the next corner William’s opposite the Post Office run by Mr and Mrs Frier and had the only phonebooth in the area. There was always someone waiting as there were very few that had phones. Opposite was Dyer’s butcher and their son Jack a year or two younger than me took it on. At the bottom left hag corner was another small general shop on the back lane. Never did go in here that I recall but I somehow remember a very large guy ran this store but he was elderly then.

    Renown Street from the top on the junction with Royal Navy Avenue, there was a large general store. Behind St Thomas’s Church a small shop that had been a barbers years before but again this always seemed to change between times of being empty. Next corner Meager the butcher his son Terry was another I was with a lot but he was a good footballer. Opposite was a chip shop run by Mr and Mrs Hughes. Then at the next junction Maddocks facing Leakey’s two general stores.

    Ocean St opposite the Church Mrs Rogers and opposite the school canteen Lethbridge’s whose son Michael grew up with the Keyham boys crowd. The area of Keyham was well provided for shops and most carried a fair range of goods. I would regularly be sent to Maddocks four half a stone of potatoes or a quarter of a pound of cold meat for tea.

    Very few if any still survive but for those interested in what Keyham was like growing up at that time it gives a flavour of what you could get in the community. Some were farmers or smallholders who brought fresh produce every day and used the shop as their cash earning outlet in addition to the farm income, but the first years after the end of the war were tough for farmers so the shops did provide other outlets for them.



  • Marlbrough Street

    Marlbrough Street

    In growing up at Admiralty St it was Thursdays that stick in my mind. Just like Monday, it was wash-day whatever the weather. It was a day when the copper would be boiling sheets and pillow cases that were then mangled in the back yard with a tub underneath the rollers. I graduated trolling the handle while mum organised the folding, and it was hard work. If you didn’t catch her fingers you were pretty safe, but she couldn’t half wack your ear if you did.
    But Thursday was special because mum’s older sister Aunt Vera would come up from Wombwell Crescent where we’d all go shopping. We would catch a bus at HMS Drake to Marlborough St. On the corner was the Marlborough Hotel which was a huge pub/hotel and next door hidden away was a Chinese laundry. Each week mum would collect and drop off the current weeks collars off Dad’ shirts for starching. They attached with studs to the shirt and looked like razors. I often wondered why they didn’t cut the wearer but they all seemed safe enough.

    Next was Earson’s the greengrocer on the right hand side going down to Fore St. It was only the Forum and Midland Bank building stood in isolation after all the bombing. Then we went to a Mrs Goodman’s. She ran a furniture shop that was anything you want really. She was also one of the few who traded on “provi cheques”. Basically to get new furniture or lino you borrowed from the Provident who gave you a cheque for your purchases redeemable only in the named shops. You then repaid weekly at extortionate rates which was collected at your door.For many working class families with no easy access to money this was the only means of gaining anything new.

    Then round the corner to Lethbridge’s was the shoe repairers for anything that helped make shoes last a little longer. Then walk back up to Fore St to catch a bus back to Drake.

    This weekly trip lasted for a good number of years until we moved when I was about 10 to 67 Renown St. This was a two up two down small kitchen outside loo again no bathroom. But we did now have a gas water heater over the sink so some hot water that didn’t involve boiling a kettle or a copper saved some time.


    The other two benefits were next door to Keyham Barton and our neighbours were cobblers so he did loads of work at home and did look after all our needs sometimes in an emergency. The downside was that it was right behind the convent where the school nun’s lived and also very close to the Church.

    But more of that later.



  • Rations

    Rations

    In the aftermath of the War, I suppose my mum was no different to many others. Ration books were in operation for basics like meat, sugar, milk and other commodities that have been taken for granted today. Nothing could be wasted and you could write the menus week by week as regular as clockwork. The only variations would be for  the seasons, obviously more salads in the summer with vegetables being more plentiful. 

    On a Sunday it was a piece of beef, rarely pork and occasionally lamb. But that would have depended on what was available and at what cost. Mum did a wet roast with water gravy thickened towards the end of cooking with bisto mixed in a cup. Served with vegetables usually carrots and peas this was a one pot feast. There would then be cold meat from the leftover joint on a Monday with mash. Occasionally, if there was lots of left over vegetable, we’d have bubble and squeak. Anything left after that would be minced up to make a cottage pie on Tuesday. Wednesday would be a season pudding or steak and kidney pie and always on a Thursday train wrecking pasties, which was mother’s speciality. Friday it was fish and chips as good Catholics did on a Friday and Saturday cold meat and mash.This rarely changed and each meal had an afters of jam or lemoncurd tart homemade, suet puddings, Nelson squares or sponges with homemade custard. Sundays, we’d have a trifle which would last for Monday, bearing in mind there were no fridges. At least not in our  house. There was only large granite slabs in a ladder cupboard for us.  It’s quite an ask how these things were cooked and preserved so well.

    The surprise was sometimes Maureen would come home with a rabbit from one of the farms the milk was collected from. Mum would skin, dissect it and cook the most amazing rabbit pies. At about the age of ten or so there was a Myxomatosis disease among rabbits and almost wiped them out, so the practice died out too. The rabbit pie is still one of my  favourites, personally I think far more tasty than chicken.

    I always felt sorry for my mum as she was tied to the kitchen every day. Dad worked his whole working life at Mile House bus depot as a fitter and turner and insisted on coming home for lunch Monday to Friday. He would catch a special to be through the door around 12:30, have his dinner and catch the return bus back to milehouse at 1:15. It was always tight on time, so dinner had to be on the table for when he came through the door. This however became their way of life for the 49 years that he worked there and a more light tea would follow at about 6ish.

    However  looking back the meals were filling, nutritious and always had mum’s mark on them and generally we weren’t hungry throughout the day. Considering the limited range of things available and the limitations on money, she did an excellent job of keeping us all healthy and full. I seem to recall dad got paid on a Thursday and would come home, pass over the money for the housekeeping they had agreed and that was it. I know many years later when mum discovered just how much dad had been earning and she wasn’t at all pleased. I think an exchange of sharp opinion happened. She was a skilled seamstress and could look at fashions and make a dress or trousers, skirts and blouses at will, but that seemed her only hobby. More likely it was the only way clothes could be obtained within their finances. I think she was more than miffed that that may have been avoidable had she known the real earnings of dad at that time. But that seemed to be the common way things were done in most  swirling class households, the male attitudes dominated just about  everything.



  • Keyham Barton

    Keyham Barton

    I’ll correct as I go along. But it’s strange how you wake and your memory throws up a name from the past. When I talked of the Earson family in Admiralty St, it was of course the name of their shop in Marlborough St. It was Cecil Moorhouse and his family who lived there and it was he who taught me the street verses. For me Admiralty St remains a big part of my education. At four years old I was taken to the gate and left in the care of Keyham Barton Catholic Primary school where I remained until I was eleven.

    There  was a real mixture of nationalities and religions in Keyham, so the Catholic community kept the role number pretty close to maximum and unless you were a Catholic you wouldn’t get it. They had an education system in Plymouth generally all of their own. St Budeaux, Holy Cross, Cathedral and later Whitleigh had the primary schools taught in  Keyham by the nuns. On the same site at Keyham Barton was Holy Redeemer Secondary Modern School, run by the same order of nuns. For those who passed the 11+ there was Notre Dame for girls and St  Boniface’s College for the boys. Holy Redeemer was mixed as a secondary.

    This was quite the business. The education at Primary level was funded by the government. At Secondary Modern and for those who managed to pass the 11+, the cost of their education at either site was paid by the government. So there was an enormous competition between the schools to get as many passes as they could in order the be the top dog. If anyone believes that achievement tables are a new thing, they obviously were not around in my time growing up in Keyham.

    The nuns were fierce and were not adverse to giving a good wacking to anyone who disobeyed them in any way. Sister Finbar ran the Holy Redeemer school, small by stature she was particularly hard in dispensing discipline. There were lots of tales from there about her prowess with a cane, they did seem to like bamboo canes. Sister Denis was the Head at Keyham Barton and she too would be harsh with discipline. After a caning she would insist you had some Ovaltine  tablets. It was useless going home and saying you’d had a  smacking cause the reply “what did you do wrong, you must have deserved it”. It seems in the Catholic households nun’s could do no wrong and if they disciplined you it was all part of the grand scheme of things to make you a good person.



  • Our Neighbours

    Our Neighbours

    Mrs Tremain lived at Number 51. She was a good friend of Mum and Dad as she was a member of the Labour Party so they met up quite often. She ran the Ironmongers and hardware shop on the corner of Fleet St opposite the barbers shop. The shop was owned, I think by George Walters who ran a building firm out the back of the premises. I remember a Wilf and Jack who were tradesmen working for him and a couple of others who played football for Oak Villa at North Down Recreation Ground on a Saturday afternoon. My Dad would take me up there and we would stand under one of the trees on the bank if it rained. 

    At 53 lived a retired couple Mr and Mrs Gloyn. They were lovely people and mum was always in conversations with them over the back wall when hanging out or taking in the washing. I remember playing with a prized christmas present, namely a water pistol. I was practising in the back garden, when Mr Gloyn declared it was definitely raining. He then decided to bring all the washing in, much to Mrs Gloyns concern. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. When Mum realised what had happened it was my first experience of my mum’s anger. She was something to behold when angry. Needless to say it would the first of many of these  experiences for the remainder of my life.

    At  57 lived George and Elsie Rowe, of later Barbican fame as a  signwriter. George had just left the Navy and was establishing himself and his business. This was shortly after he moved to Dumfries Ave in Crownhill. They had a son, Michael who was a little younger than me. It was George who later in life declared that it was me who taught Michael swearwords. I  genuinely don’t remember consciously doing that, but I think I knew a few swearwords by then, so it’s just possible.

    At  59 lived the MacAvoy’s. Mr Mac was in the Navy and retired as Lt  Commander so he did very well. They turned out to be another Catholic family we would mix with at Church. Their son, Tony was a few years older than me but we spent a lot of time camping in the back lane. We used old sheets held off the walls with old bricks, until the coalmen’lorry delivering ran over  the edge of the bricks. It shot them like bullets through the tent and hitting the wall with such force, it narrowly missed us both. We moved to Alexandra Park at the top of  the street for us to pitch tents against the railings. They had an older daughter called Sheila. She became a very well known publican and charity fundraiser at the Royal Oak at Hooe. They also had a younger sister called Kathleen I think. Tony and I grew up in a very happy period but as he went off to St Boniface’s our times together died out.

    At 61 lived a lady  called Mrs Paull. She was a widow I think and was a very prominent member of St Thomas’s Church. Father Wood was then and for a long time afterwards the very active vicar.

    These were our immediate neighbours. Some linked beyond just neighbours by virtue of Church or Labour Party but all were highly regarded in the community. My recollection of these times were happy, hard and poor but making our own fun.



  • Our House

    Our House

    From what I can recall growing up at 55 Admiralty St, they were happy days. We had radio but no T.V which was unheard of then, the summers seemed long and hot and the community was friendly but not all in and out of each others homes. The house we lived in was a large roomed three up and back kitchen with an adjoining dining room downstairs, a back room and a front room. We had an outside loo and a 6ft aluminium bath for Saturday’s bath. I think I  was first in, followed by Maureen and then Mother and Dad. The hot water was provided by a huge copper tank with gas jets underneath from the main gas supply. This was for baths and the weekly wash on a Monday.

    The front room was rarely used and special occasions only. It was for visiting priests, birthdays and Christmas. A coal grate, which was only lit on those special days early in the morning, provided warmth but invariably the sash windows and the coldness of the house lost any heat very quickly. The visiting priests must have thought it strange that everywhere they visited was always cold. However they were regular visitors at these times with a big parish to cover and a very large number of  parishioners.

    Carpet was unheard-of and unaffordable so it was lino everywhere. Stuffed underneath was a mass of newspapers collected from the family. The outside loo used to freeze up in a bad winter. All in all they were happy days but you had to make the best of the circumstances.

    Maureen being 10 years my senior moved in a different circle and time frame to me. It really wasn’t till she came back to Plymouth after many years away that I really got to know and appreciate her. She was an extremely  talented student at Plymouth High School and apart from her academic brilliance she was apparently something to behold wielding a hockey  stick. She was a brilliant student and matriculated in seven subjects. She would have been well sought after for any University but whether it was unaffordable or not, I wasn’t sure if she ever had a wish to go. She later worked for Plymouth Cooperative Society at Radnor Dairy doing the laboratory tests on the  milk from the farms.

    At  that time Plymouth Coop owned much of the local farmland and collected from a wide geographical area. Their milk production was massive so again whilst I’m in school Maureen was working. Not long after she came home I’m in bed ready for school the next day so we never saw much of each other. I think I was more of a pain to her to be honest, more of which  later.

    We were blessed  with the most lovely neighbours from the bottom corner. At No 49 I think  lived the Earson family, they were rarely home only evenings as they ran a number of smallholdings including the Earson’s greengrocers at Marlborough St. They were very busy people. Their end wall was a fabulous spot for us to draw a permanent set of cricket wickets for Summer use and a goalpost set for Autumn and Winter. I remember Mr Earson particularly as he taught me how to remember the name sequence of the Keyham streets.

    The Admiralty Fleet will win Victory Renown on the Ocean, and 70 years later it’s still as fresh in my mind as it was back then, when he put much emphasis on each of the street names.