Life is Much Improved

We did not stay at Antioch for very long.Mum had the offer of a much nicer place in the terraced bloc aove ours. This bock being called Lower Abbotts, This House had a garden and separate bedrooms. There was still no bathroom. However it did have a nice view across the hills. We were very happy living there. Moving to Lower Abbotts coincided  with my moving schools. I had failed the eleven plus rather miserably and there fore had to move to a Secondary Modern School in Littleborough  this school was run by an head master who had a reputation of being a terror. His name was Jas J Bollem  and he was to us students God. When he walked down a corridor the students had to stand with their backs against the wall so as to not impede his passage. And he was not afraid to use the cane when the occasion demanded it. He was extremely fond of his school and quite frankly this rubbed of on the student. He was well known throughout lancashire. He set an example to the other schools in the area, who all tried to better the Central and very rarely did. The wearing of uniform was mandatory., and woe be tied anyone who let the school down when  they were wearing it. My mother could not afford the cost of school uniform so she made them. The embarasing part from my point of view was that my mother kept me in shorts until the age of fifteen. In d on one occasion come across an old pair of trousers  (They had belonged to Charlie ) Of course they were much to big for me, This did not stop me from sliding along in them feeling rather grown up. My first Year at Littleborough Central Secondary Modern school was quite cheerful.despite the fact that I was in "S stream" As My brother on his arrival was placed in the "B" stream which gave him an automatic shot at the GCSE's. It was great to be joined by Peter however there was one drawback, to the situation. This being the fact that my brother is some what confrontational and he would get into an argument with some one, and when it got out of hand  he would threaten them with his big brother. I have lost count of the number of times I have felt a tap on my shoulder , the person tapping me asking if my name was John Backhouse and promptly smacking me in the face when I Answered.

Early learning

The school that my brother and I attended was situated in the village of Hollingworth . This village is situated on the hill side overlooking Hollingworth lake.  The lake, a man made reservoir situated in the valley above the small town of Littleborough. Being situated on the Lancahire Yorkdhire border it was at this time quite a busy town.There was a large marshalling yard for the railways, a terminal on the Leeds/Liverpool canal and the main route across the penines passed through. Added to which there was  at this time a large number of cotton mills,a chemical distillery and a large asbestos company. In effect I suppose it could be said that it was aboom town. Sadly that it cannot be said today.

The school ot Hollingworth was a one roomed affair. And had only one teacher, the teacher Miss Sykes, undertook the teaching of all subjects to the local children,  being responsible for the educatioin of a mixed age group from the age of four years until they moved on to the seccondary or grammer schools at the age of eleven. Unfortunately very few made it to a grammer school, I can only recall one doing so. Never the less it was a nice school and every one was extremely happy. Attached to the school was the local church, a corogated iron church, which had to share a vicar with the parish of Milnrow. As a result there were no church services every week. When services did take place, every one attended as it was considered a great occasion.  

John Michael  Backhouse
Author of
www.Enjoy-Your-Retirement.com
www.Safe-Sex-Pert.com

Things They are a Changing.

Life in the  village was very different, we had been used to privacy, here we had none.People walked past our door at all times of the day an night. A journey to the toilet could be embarrassing as the local children were often hanging around  outside, taking advantage of one of only two street lights in the village. Added to which we were often accompanied by someone in the other cubicles, this did not bother my brother and I too much if it was one of the local girls, that we held a penchant for. The other things that disturbed us was the fact that although there were only two street lights, and were not very bright. They did however manage to throw enough light as to disturb our sleep. Remember we had been used to pitch darkness. These problems were  overridden by the fact that we now had running water, electricity, friends to play with and we were much nearer to school                                                                                                                                 

Rakewood village consisted of 5 blocks 3  houses grouped around a bend In  the river All being on the north bank , two blocks to the east serving a very small woollen factory and the other three to the west they had once served a small Cotton Mill which was situated between the two groups. Both these mills were in operation at this time. The Cotton Mill ceasing production in 1956 and the Wool Mill up until the early 90,s.                                                                                                                                

Moving on

We remained at Longden End until the age of ten when we moved down into the hamlet of Rakewood. Mother having managed to get a half of a terraced house. When I say half i mean that at one stage it had been an end of terrace, but some stage the front half had been made into a shop , with the back half being a two up and two down arrangement. unfortunately the shop section was now derelict as was a chapel  on the western side.The group of houses consisting of another two like ours, separated by a  centre house which actually stretched from front to back them having the luxury of a front and back door. The group had the rather resplendent name of "ANTIOCH" obviously having had ties with the chapel. at some stage. To my mother it was a great improvement, as she was much nearer to her work,  we  were nearer to school and her life was made easier by the fact that it was smaller,running water. ( mostly down the walls ) and electric light. My brother Peter and I hated it. Mainly because we had lost our playground.. Things would never be the same.Another plus was that we had no longer got the chores of fetching the water. berrying the toilet and ponching the washing . Another plus was that we were now near to our school friends end for the first time were able to meet them in the evening after school.   To get back to the toilet they wer in a block of three at the end of the terrace. Each toilet They consisted of a large a large wooden platform with a large hole in the centre, a hinged wooden lid was lowered across the hole to keep out the flies when not in use there being a large steel container to catch the effluent., this being collected weekly by the borough council. The three toilets were shared by "Antioch" and "Lower Abbots" residents, a similar terraced block set  higher up the hillside. A representative of each block would take it in turn to clean them

How the Weather Affected Conditions

The weather was of particular concern to us, having no heating. Being on the Lancashire/Yorkshire moors,and being  over 2000 foot above sea level.  We were often subjected to very heavy mists. This gave a very quiet and mysterious atmosphere, very rather like the set of a dracular movie..Rather attractive in it's own way.  It however had a down side as it left everything feeling very damp.The area was also subjected to very heavy rain fall. When this occurred the river became a raging torrent. Overflowing it's banks and began climbing up the garden towards the house. Fortunately It never did  reach the house. When these days did occurred it was sometimes difficult to attend school. Other problems encountered was when it snowed was due to,.being high up in the Pennines the area was  often subjected to very heavy snow fall. The winter of 1948 being of particular note.This winter was one of the  worst on record. The snow was very deep and the ice very thick, in fact the river was not flowing as it was a complete block of ice. The consequence of this was that we were unable to get to school and my mother was unable to get to work.As mentioned previously, Mother was a bit of a hoarder, therefore we had plenty of potatoes, eggs as we had some chickens, these we were able to kill and eat as the conditions  worsened.. Eventually they got through  to us on horse back.

Like all young boys we were capable of getting into mischief,.we were left very much to our own devices. Running from the house to the pumping station was an old railway track, which had been built to assist in the emptying some filter beds that  were on the otherside of the brook. Also at the back of the house was the  remnants of the original pump house. this had long gone. Leaving behind a one  hundred foot tall chimney.. My uncle had built for us a cart to run on the track, so that when Peter and I went to the pumping station each week to pay the rent for the house we could use the cart. He had fitted it with a sail so  that when the wind was blowing and it usually wa,s we could ride at least one way wind assisted. As a matter of interest the rent was 2/6d which equates to 12.5p in todays currency.,. Returning to the mischief, We set fire to the moors on a number of ocasions, having watched the farmers do it, We called it sqealing ,at one stage it burned for six weeks before the fire was brought under control, The filtter beds we had decided to make them into a swimming pool, this was done by divertinng the river, thus depriving Rochdale of  it's water supply. The chimney  that stood behind the house we decided to demolish. Having read how the steeple jacks do this by knocking bricks out of the base, supporting it with pit props and then lighting a fire to burn out the pit props and thus bringing the structure down, We did this, ours however did not come down, it remained standing for quite a few years afterwords.

Sunday, Day of Rest ( Chapter 5 My Story)

Sundays tended to be washing and ironing day, that is  providing the weather was fine. The copper was filled with water, which meant a couple of journeys to collect the water with the milk churn. A fire was built and lit underneath the copper, soap and the dirty washing put into it. When the water was  boiling , my brother and I took up our positions with the ponch agitating the washing as hard as we could. In  the mean time my mother had prepared the irons, ready to do the ironing. The ironing was usually done outside, as she had at her disposal two types of iron. The first being the flat iron, made of cast iron it wa placed on the fire until red hot. The iron was then slipped into a tin sleeve, so that the clothes did not get burnt, and this would be used as long as the iron remained hot. This required a number of irons in the fire in order to ensure that a smooth progress could be maintained. The second type of iron was the charcoal iron, this had a little fire grate inside the body of the iron, this was filled with charcoal which when fully lit would keep the sole plate of the iron hot. This iron was the reason for being outside as it had a tendancy to belch smoke and soot particles every where. Both these irons were eventually superceded by a calor gas fired iron. Other duties on a Sunday was the disposal of the toilet efluent. This entailed the carrying of the toilet tub to a spot some way from the house. the digging of a hole and burrying the contents. i assure you this was not our favorite task.Althogh Peter and i did find it worked well for us one sunday. We had visitors, a friend of my mothers from manchester. she had a particularly nauseating daughter who was dressed in a white frilly dress. We were told to go outside and play, which we did, choosing to play where we had buried the toilet. Needless to say she found it, her not being privy to it's where abouts,  the advantage that we had.