Late Spring Bank Holidays in the early 1950s
Posted: Mon May 25, 2026 2:10 pm
Or Whit Monday as it was called then:
From a very early age I’d attended Sunday School at St Andrew’s Mission Church in Dentons Green Lane. I suppose the best way of describing its status is that it, along with St Mary’s in Keswick Road and York Street Mission, were all sub-branches of St Helens Parish Church in Church Street. I’m sure there will be an ecumenical term for this but sub-branch will suffice.
Every Whit Monday all member sub-branches of the St Helens Parish Church walked in procession with several brass and silver bands and numerous huge banners to end up at the Parish Church Field in Rainford Road. I think the field is long gone and contains housing today but it was on the left hand side of Rainford Road as you left town, maybe about 200 yards before the Crematorium.
Little ones were carried on tiny chairs on decorated floats. The entire procession was quite a huge undertaking and was several hundred yards in length. The routine was that we were required to walk in formal procession down Dentons Green Lane and Lingholm Road and then turn left towards the Lingholm pub to join up with the main procession from the Parish Church and the other missions.
There were numerous bands at various points of the procession including Church Army, Boys’ Brigade and Sea Cadets ensembles. Then there were the various organisations attached to the Church such as Bible Study Groups, Sunday Schools, Scouts, Guides, Brownies and Cubs.
As a Wolf Cub pack in the St Andrew’s scouting movement, we lads were required to not just stand as we awaited the procession to be re-formed. We were obliged to mark time to the music in military fashion. We were marking time for what to us young lads seemed like hours until we were finally on the move again along Dentons Green Lane, Greenfield Road and then Rainford Road. There were frequent hold ups at the top of the Green as the banners were manoeuvred under the trolley bus overhead wires.
Of course all our relatives turned out to see us boys and the girls who all wore their best frocks and carried posies and little baskets of flowers. They were stood two or three deep at some points of the procession route and would frequently nip out of the crowd to push a couple of pennies into this or that kid’s hand.
Eventually we’d all turn into the field to join in the activities laid on for us, but first we needed to be fed. Each child was given a paper bag containing maybe a couple of meat-paste sandwiches, a bun and a piece of cake. We were also given a small bottle of pop to wash it down with. As there was a penny returnable deposit on each bottle, we were rapidly relieved of these as soon as they were empty.
The activities were the usual egg and spoon, three-legged and sack races, straight-forward running races at a variety of distances and for each different age group. There were Tug of War competitions, fancy-dress competitions and even pillow-fights. We knew how to live in those days!!
There was a primitive public address system or tannoy as they were referred to. The reception of this made the one at Shaw Street Station seem crystal clear by comparison. I don’t suppose its clarity was helped by the announcer doing his level best to substitute his homely St Helens accent with his interpretation of BBC standard received English complete with clipped tones as heard on Pathe News bulletins
There were a couple of impromptu band concerts at various points on the field for the benefit of the parents and other grown-ups there. I can remember Granddad, somewhat unimpressed with it all saying that it “favvers Muldoon’s picnic” whatever that was.
As the field was let to a local farmer for cattle grazing until required by the Parish Church, many of the inevitable cow-pats remained as a trap for the unwary, short-sighted or infirm. I still remember that to the uninitiated these appeared quite dried out and solid. Appearances were deceptively cruel however as they had simply crusted over and underneath were still wet and stinking!
Then there were various side-shows where you rolled pennies to try and land on numbers in squares without the penny touching the sides of the square, or games were you tried to land battered old darts on pinned-up playing cards. Hoop La was an ever-present on these occasions when the hoop you threw was about a thousandth of an inch wider than the prize you were aiming at.
We had coconut shies and one amusement I can still clearly picture today; a stall where you rolled down an incline things that were called “Crazy Tanks” These were small metal oval containers containing a large ball-bearing that gave them an unpredictably erratic course as you tried to aim them at various openings at the bottom of the incline.
The very little kids were well catered for with a variety of fairground rides featuring tiny sit-in cars and buses mounted on a rotating circular platform. The rotation was provided by the ride-operator manually turning a huge geared cranking handle. I can also recall a row of little swing boats too.
And then it rained! Guaranteed. Not just any rain but a torrential downpour that left the little girl’s satin dresses totally ruined, the crepe paper decorations on the floats turned into mush, the lads canvas-shoes like dish-cloths and the parents wondering why they ever bothered as they trailed away home with kids in tow. I suppose that compared to the trials and tribulations of the recently ended war, it was bearable.
From a very early age I’d attended Sunday School at St Andrew’s Mission Church in Dentons Green Lane. I suppose the best way of describing its status is that it, along with St Mary’s in Keswick Road and York Street Mission, were all sub-branches of St Helens Parish Church in Church Street. I’m sure there will be an ecumenical term for this but sub-branch will suffice.
Every Whit Monday all member sub-branches of the St Helens Parish Church walked in procession with several brass and silver bands and numerous huge banners to end up at the Parish Church Field in Rainford Road. I think the field is long gone and contains housing today but it was on the left hand side of Rainford Road as you left town, maybe about 200 yards before the Crematorium.
Little ones were carried on tiny chairs on decorated floats. The entire procession was quite a huge undertaking and was several hundred yards in length. The routine was that we were required to walk in formal procession down Dentons Green Lane and Lingholm Road and then turn left towards the Lingholm pub to join up with the main procession from the Parish Church and the other missions.
There were numerous bands at various points of the procession including Church Army, Boys’ Brigade and Sea Cadets ensembles. Then there were the various organisations attached to the Church such as Bible Study Groups, Sunday Schools, Scouts, Guides, Brownies and Cubs.
As a Wolf Cub pack in the St Andrew’s scouting movement, we lads were required to not just stand as we awaited the procession to be re-formed. We were obliged to mark time to the music in military fashion. We were marking time for what to us young lads seemed like hours until we were finally on the move again along Dentons Green Lane, Greenfield Road and then Rainford Road. There were frequent hold ups at the top of the Green as the banners were manoeuvred under the trolley bus overhead wires.
Of course all our relatives turned out to see us boys and the girls who all wore their best frocks and carried posies and little baskets of flowers. They were stood two or three deep at some points of the procession route and would frequently nip out of the crowd to push a couple of pennies into this or that kid’s hand.
Eventually we’d all turn into the field to join in the activities laid on for us, but first we needed to be fed. Each child was given a paper bag containing maybe a couple of meat-paste sandwiches, a bun and a piece of cake. We were also given a small bottle of pop to wash it down with. As there was a penny returnable deposit on each bottle, we were rapidly relieved of these as soon as they were empty.
The activities were the usual egg and spoon, three-legged and sack races, straight-forward running races at a variety of distances and for each different age group. There were Tug of War competitions, fancy-dress competitions and even pillow-fights. We knew how to live in those days!!
There was a primitive public address system or tannoy as they were referred to. The reception of this made the one at Shaw Street Station seem crystal clear by comparison. I don’t suppose its clarity was helped by the announcer doing his level best to substitute his homely St Helens accent with his interpretation of BBC standard received English complete with clipped tones as heard on Pathe News bulletins
There were a couple of impromptu band concerts at various points on the field for the benefit of the parents and other grown-ups there. I can remember Granddad, somewhat unimpressed with it all saying that it “favvers Muldoon’s picnic” whatever that was.
As the field was let to a local farmer for cattle grazing until required by the Parish Church, many of the inevitable cow-pats remained as a trap for the unwary, short-sighted or infirm. I still remember that to the uninitiated these appeared quite dried out and solid. Appearances were deceptively cruel however as they had simply crusted over and underneath were still wet and stinking!
Then there were various side-shows where you rolled pennies to try and land on numbers in squares without the penny touching the sides of the square, or games were you tried to land battered old darts on pinned-up playing cards. Hoop La was an ever-present on these occasions when the hoop you threw was about a thousandth of an inch wider than the prize you were aiming at.
We had coconut shies and one amusement I can still clearly picture today; a stall where you rolled down an incline things that were called “Crazy Tanks” These were small metal oval containers containing a large ball-bearing that gave them an unpredictably erratic course as you tried to aim them at various openings at the bottom of the incline.
The very little kids were well catered for with a variety of fairground rides featuring tiny sit-in cars and buses mounted on a rotating circular platform. The rotation was provided by the ride-operator manually turning a huge geared cranking handle. I can also recall a row of little swing boats too.
And then it rained! Guaranteed. Not just any rain but a torrential downpour that left the little girl’s satin dresses totally ruined, the crepe paper decorations on the floats turned into mush, the lads canvas-shoes like dish-cloths and the parents wondering why they ever bothered as they trailed away home with kids in tow. I suppose that compared to the trials and tribulations of the recently ended war, it was bearable.