Interesting Old St.Helens Pictures

[halj]

My Aunt and Uncle used to live behind the butchers in Junction Lane (Peter Rigby).

[Alan]

On 17/07/2023 at 10:40, HORT said:

Top of the Green

Following is a sectino from a book that I never got published. It was largely about the Dentons Green area

There were two chippies that passed the Grundy approval test, Grandma and Granddad rarely used them but Uncle George did. They were Lathoms at the top of Greenfield Road, run by Stan Lathom, his wife and later his daughter Judith. The other one was Knowles which was on the corner of Windleshaw Road and Carr Street. Mr Knowles used to wear a square shaped white hat that looked like it was made from starched linen. Some rather odd memories of chip shops in those days are as follows: The more domesticated customers took their plates wrapped in tea-towels so their fish and chips could be put straight on the table on their return home. A strange St Helens custom is of chips with peas being referred to as a “split”. During the frying process, the chip shop owner used to scoop out the scraps of batter that fell away from fish in the fryer. This was stored in a special compartment in the fryer and dispensed as a free treat to any customers who asked for “scraps” with their order.

Next door to Lathoms on one side was a sort of second-hand furniture shop that used to display its wares outside on the pavement. On the other side, just up-hill from it was a carpet shop

Almost opposite Lathoms was Kendal’s Post Office.  A few years later Norman Kendal, the son of the owner, was in the year above me at Cowley. He became a dentist with a practice at the top of Kiln Lane opposite the Gerrard pub.

Another shop that comes to mind was a motorbike store owned by the world-famous TT Champion and local hero Geoff Dukes. This was about halfway between the top of Greenfield Road and the above mentioned Co-op. It had quite a large glass-fronted showroom full of what seemed to us young lads, quite exotic motorbikes. (I can recall judging the desirability of the bikes on display by the diameter of their headlight for some inexplicable reason.) We used to peer in, hoping vainly to catch a sight of Geoff Dukes.

Just further down from the motorbike shop was a sweet and other  supplies shop called Mort’s. It sticks in my mind as they ran a “firework club” whereby you saved money with them, typically 6d a week and then at the end of October you cashed your savings by buying maybe five bob’s worth (25p) of fireworks. Another popular feature of Mort’s was that they sold broken biscuits at 2d for quite a large bag full. (In those days biscuits were not sold pre-packed but weighed out for the customer from a large tin. Inevitably as the sales from this tin progressed, there’d be quite a few broken biscuits left in the bottom. These became an important perk for us youngsters.)

[Bert]

I think I've posted this before; there's a photo somewhere of Geoff Dukes at the front of his shop. On the left of the photo is a bemused lady on the doorstep of the house next to the shop wondering what's going on. The lady was my paternal grandma.

[Alan]

A bit more on shops in Dentons Green and Greenfield Road

Shops in Denton Green Area

A strange memory that sticks in my mind of Grandma and her shopping habits was her quaint habit of reversing her pinny so it hung down behind her before donning her hat and coat and going out to the shops. Presumably this was so it didn’t show if her coat came open. I could never understand why she didn’t simply take the pinny off before going out. (Another strange dressing habit she had was that she always had a darning needle and a couple of safety-pins attached to the top half of her dress. No doubt always to hand if needed)

Grandma always referred to the Co-op in Greenfield Road as “The Stores”. This shop used to fascinate me as a child. There was a sort of ante-room to the left as you entered. This was where you got your potatoes. They used to be dispensed down a metal chute from which the assistant shovelled them out into the old shopping bag folk reserved for that purpose. I think the chute was fed from the floor above.

There was a much smaller version of this chute behind the main counter which dispensed sugar. This was bagged into blue cartridge-paper bags with each one holding a pound of sugar.

Stuff like butter and lard was never sold pre-packed but was cut off from large blocks by hand and weighed. The machine for slicing bacon and cooked meats was hand-operated via a crank handle turned by the counter assistant and occupied its own slightly remote part of the counter.

Another memory of that Co-op was the perfectly symmetrical parcels made out of brown paper and fastened with string that they created to contain your weekly shop there. The brown paper and string were carefully stored by Grandma for any future use. The wartime motto of “Waste not, want not” was a way of life in most families. In fact it was so ingrained into all our families that my late wife and I still lived by it 75 years after the war ended!

The Co-op building itself was quite a grand design with a high, ornate entrance portal. On the gable-end of the building near the roof was a sort of hoist block and tackle above a wooden door. It was used for loading deliveries into the store-room above the shop.

A rather strange feature of that Co-op that fascinated me as young boy was the small gas-flame in its window. This was a rudimentary sort of intruder alarm, As explained to me at the time, when the store was vacated at night, the gas-feed to that pilot light was via loops of rubber hose laid out across the shop in such a way that any burglar was almost bound to tread on it and extinguish the flame in the window, thereby alerting the local policeman to the intrusion when he passed by on his regular beat.

Mr Clayton’s butchers shop on the corner of Rivington Road and Greenfield Road was almost like a part of the Grundy family.    They supplied the meat ration to so many local families. Every month or so, the black sheep of the family, the youngest of their offspring, Uncle Arthur would come to visit. (He was always referred to as “our Arthur from over the water” as he lived on the Cheshire side of the Mersey near Wallasey.) On these occasions my late sister Barbara would be sent by Grandma to Clayton’s butchers in Greenfield Road for “a quarter of best boiled ham, off the bone and not to be cut like lace curtains.” I’m sure Mr Clayton took the order with his usual good humour.

The greengrocery shop in Greenfield Road, Molineux’s, was always mispronounced as “Mollynix’s”. Money was scarce in the Grundy household and Grandma used to send Barbara or me via the relative privacy of the back-entry to this shop with a wicker-work shopping basket for a couple of pounds of bruised apples free of charge from Mrs Molineux which she then used to make the best apple-pies I’ve ever tasted.

Several other shops close to 188 Dentons Green Lane also formed an important part of Grandma’s everyday life. These were Mr Bagley’s Post Office where she and Granddad got their pension. This shop started out on the odd number side of Dentons Green Lane close to Shiels fishmonger and then moved across to the other side. An odd memory of Mr Bagley’s shop is of the large blocks of salt he stocked on a shelf behind the counter. I can never recall these being sold and certainly they were never used in our family. I assume they’d been bought cheap during the war when so many everyday things were rationed or unavailable. Another personal memory is of buying “Sixpenny Saving Stamps” there. This was a savings scheme aimed at youngsters. Basically you bought these 6d (2.5p) Savings Stamps and stuck them in a purpose-designed booklet. When the book was full, you redeemed the book at the Post Office for cash. It was a very popular way for youngsters to save up for their holiday spending-money. There was even an adult version that involved half-crown (12.5p in current money) stamps.

Then there was Gornalls on the corner of Rivington Road and Dentons Green Lane. It was a general store but my main memory of it was of the off-ration sweets they sold there. From memory, they were labelled as being made in Czechoslovakia. I still don’t understand why sweets from, what in those days was a country with a communist government under the political control of the USSR, should make their way into British shops in the immediate post-war years and somehow be exempt from the rationing that still applied. They were totally ubiquitous and could be found in most sweet shops in and around the town.

Other favourites were Roy Dewsbury’s sweet shop in the same small parade as Clayton’s butchers shop and between these two a shop where Grandma bought her knitting and crochet wool. The latter shop evoked another, slightly off-subject memory of Barbara or me being bribed to sit in front of Grandma with the skein of wool held with arms apart whilst Grandma rolled the wool into more manageable, perfectly-shaped spheres.

Further up Greenfield Road on the corner with Tennis Street was the afore-mentioned Molineux greengrocery, a chemist, Holden’s pie and cold meat shop (memory fades but I recall a small specialist ladies’ clothing shop there as well) and then Bill Jackson’s hardware shop complete with fuel pumps. This shop was where Granddad had the lead/acid battery recharged (it was referred to as an accumulator) that powered his wireless. The radio was invaluable for checking his Football Pools Coupon on a Saturday night when we all had to keep quiet.

There was also a news-agent across the road in Tennis Street halfway between Greenfield and Windleshaw Roads owned by Bill Young and his Dad (his Dad rarely made an appearance in the shop). They both lived above the shop. Grandma had a real affection for Bill Young (maybe he was an old friend of uncles Billy, George, Arthur or Tom.) A strange memory of this shop was that its window always contained a contemporary naturist magazine that had pictures of nude women on its front cover. I think the magazine was titled “Health and Efficiency”. It’s presence at the front of the window was a magnet for us young lads.

Marsdens shoe repairer (for some reason Grandma never referred to him as a cobbler) was on Rivington Road between Gornall’s and Whiteside’s shops. Mr Marsden was a hero of Dad’s as Dad said he was a former Battle of Britain pilot.

[HORT]

That Young's Paper shop had a bit of a reputation.

 

[Alan]

For selling dirty books?

[HORT]

Something else as well.

 

[Alan]

Well?

[Big_Jeff_Leo]

Dentons Green Lane

Dentons Green Lane 1960

[HORT]

That photo of the parade looks like Rainford Road just after the end of Greenfield Road.

 

[kizzy]

I enjoyed reading those two posts of Alans above. I didn't live in that area - but I remember shops like that from across St Helens at the time. I visited similar shops and bought potatoes, butter, sugar and other items in the same way, (and collected the important divi points!) 

[Dig]

We all remember our dive number.

[Alan]

1 hour ago, HORT said:

That photo of the parade looks like Rainford Road just after the end of Greenfield Road.

I'm sure it is

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added 38 minutes later

Some more from that unpublished book. This one largely about walks around St Helens Junction area

Short Trips around Lionel Street

Paternal Grandpa was a great one for short walks around the immediate area surrounding Lionel Street.

Top of the list was Penlake Lane which started in Lionel Street and continued for maybe a half mile in a westerly direction until it terminated at a pedestrian bridge over the main Liverpool to Manchester railway. As you departed Lionel Street, on the right were a series of allotments; some of which were home to geese, chickens, a goat and pigs. A quite vivid memory from these allotments was a man whom my grandparents treated with great affection. This man, who I remember as being called Mr Capper, had suffered a major accident at some point in his life that left him with grotesquely bandy legs. I think Grandpa told me it had been a mining accident. He was a lovely, friendly man who looked out for Barbara and me whenever Grandpa took us along there.

About 100 yards along Penlake Lane on the left was The Railway Club. This was a social club aimed, I suppose at Railway workers, but open to others who I imagine paid a fee to become honorary members. It was in the Railway Club that Grandpa did his best to teach me how to play snooker.  Memory fades but I have a clear recollection of a snooker table plus dart boards, table-tennis table, card and domino tables and a bar.

Attached to the Railway Club were a crown-bowling green and a large sports field that contained a cricket pitch and soccer posts. As well as sporting activities, the facility also hosted a gala-day for the nearby Bold Colliery. The latter event was well looked forward to by locals since as well as the usual sports day activities, there was a brass-band concert and the obligatory girl’s dancing troupe. (These dancing troupes that were a vital part of many industrial gala days were locally referred to as Morris-dancers but were clearly were nothing of the sort. Maybe a better description would have been majorettes.)

A rather bizarre recollection of one of the gala days that caused me to giggle uncontrollably, much to Grandma’s disapproval, was when a rather portly man bent down to pat his little terrier by his feet and his trousers split right along the central seam to reveal a plump white backside totally ungraced by underpants.                                     

Another memory of a gala there is of some local Miners’ Union bigwig making a long tedious speech and the audience muttering, stifling yawns and looking totally bored with it all.

Grandpa was a great competitive crown-green bowler and Grandma occasionally took us to the Railway Club to watch him in various competitions. Grandpa, never one to miss an opportunity of adding to my education, carefully explained to me how the bias on the bowls came about by the addition of a lead weight inside one side of each bowl. My late sister Barbara had a vivid memory of the bowling-green once being alive with small frogs, probably from a pond on one of the nearby allotments.

Further on along Penlake Lane was a wagon-sheeting works. I think this factory made the tough fabric sheets that protected the contents of some railway wagons and commercial trucks. This effectively marked the end of the lane and progress from there was via a pedestrian bridge over the railway that eventually led to a cul-de-sac known locally as “T’puddin’ bag”. I’ve a vague memory of passing this cul-de-sac en route to another location known as Sutton Monastery. Again, a very vague memory but there was quite a large reservoir known as Monastery Dam close by. I can recall some anglers fishing there.

Our occasional rambles with Grandpa included a visit to see from behind its security fence the old “Poison Gas” Factory known locally as the Magnum Works that I recall as being just off Reginald Road, maybe half a mile from its junction with Lionel Street. This had a really sinister look about it with numerous strange-looking tanks, condensing units and other installations virtually untouched since the days when it added stuff like mustard gas and latterly sarin to the UK secret chemical arsenal. Strangely by today’s standards, I cannot recall any mention of trespass, theft or arson taking place there. Maybe its reputation frightened away potential vandals and scrap-metal thieves! The plant was disassembled and buildings demolished in the early 1950s. I recall hearing reports of illnesses among workers there that were rumoured to be attributable to the processes carried out in the factory.

Also reported to be the cause of injuries and in some cases, fatalities was the building of the Bold Power Station, maybe just half a mile from Lionel Street and very visible from Bold Road. Difficult to be precise about timing but my memory is of the cooling towers being erected in the very early 1950s. Grandpa would point out to me the visible progress to be seen since our previous visit. Equally memorable were the massive heaps of coal from Bold Colliery being stored between the power station and the Liverpool to Manchester railway line. I recall being told at the time that the land upon which these mountainous heaps of coal were stored had previously been a peat-moss where local men indulged their passion of ratting, or in local parlance “rotting” and rabbit-hunting using small dogs. Maybe that particular pursuit explains the origin of the Sutton expression “rottin’ ‘at” used at the time as a description of a well-worn type of flat-cap.

Another fascinating walk with Grandpa was to the old WW1 (maybe earlier) twenty feet or so high earthworks in a field just off Bold Road that had been used in WW1 days as a safety background for rifle target-practice and was known as the Battery Cob. Grandpa remembered it being in operation and said that the riflemen using it had been billeted at the former Wheatsheaf hotel and had actually shot from an external balcony that used to be on the gable-end of that building which was opposite their house in Lionel Street. Thinking about that latter statement today, it seems highly risky as their bullets must have passed dangerously close over any pedestrian or other traffic on Reginald Road. Maybe the army had the powers to close Reginald Road whenever shooting from the hotel was scheduled.

Despite it being unused since the WWI days, the “Cob” was frequently visited by boys looking to unearth some of what must have been millions of spent bullets buried there. I was also told about a B24 USA aircraft from the nearby Burtonwood airbase that had crashed there in the WW2 war years but cannot recall any trace of it being there in the early 1950s. According to contemporary records, the B24 aircraft narrowly missed hitting the poison gas factory.

A walk to a site that mystified me was to a half-fallen down old manor house or hall that was surrounded by what once had been a moat. From memory, we walked in the direction of Burtonwood and it must have been no more than a mile away from Lionel Street but its name and precise location remained a mystery to me until, during the writing of this book I contacted local Sutton historian Stephen Wainwright with whom I identified it as probably the stable-block that once served Bold Hall, the earlier demolished ancestral home of the Bold family.

A very infrequent treat was a visit to the local cinema, Sutton Empire on Junction Lane. I can only recall two visits there and other than remembering it as a similar size to our own local Palladium cinema in Boundary Road, all other memories of the place have faded. From talking to former Sutton residents during the preparation of this and an earlier book, I realised what an important place it held in the minds and memories of Sutton residents.

Another occasional treat when we stayed with the Websters was provided by Dad. In those days Sherdley Park was a private estate behind a stone and brick wall, locally referred to as “The long wall”. There was however a public right of way that skirted it and eventually led to Thatto Heath. This was locally known as Hugh’s Score. I struggle to recount the exact route but we seemed to walk forever before getting onto a bus into St Helens town centre from where we caught the Number 6 trolley bus back to St Helens Junction and walked up the slope back to Lionel Street.

A very odd memory from those days is of climbing halfway up the brick and stone embankment that lay between Helena Road and the small estate that Lionel Street was part of, getting stuck and being rescued by a neighbour who sent me, suitably chastened back to Lionel Street.

A very special excursion from Lionel Street was when Dad took me to a Burtonwood USA airbase Open-Day. I think Barbara stayed behind with Grandma and Grandpa on that occasion. Up until that occasion, my knowledge of Burtonwood had been limited to listening to the aircraft as they took off and landed at the airbase a couple of miles away and occasionally seeing one as they passed low overhead. Huge thrill when one of them was a jet aircraft.

Main memories of that occasion with Dad are going into a USAF cafeteria and being bought the type of refreshments that were unheard of in St Helens, still in the grip of post-war austerity and rationing. Hotdogs and extra-sweet things called “cookies” feature strongly in my memory of that day. The actual aircraft that were the intended attractions faded into obscurity compared to the culinary delights on sale in that cafeteria! I think Dad, who had spent the entire war years in the RAF both in this country and in India, was a little disappointed with my disinterest in the planes!

But the main attraction was right on our Lionel Street doorstep. The Liverpool to Manchester railway line and the branch line that we sometimes used to take us to what today is known as St Helens Central Station but then, when St Helens Central Station was on a separate line and was in Corporation Street, was known as Shaw Street Station. For the price of a platform ticket (1d) in old money, we could spend hours there watching the incessant traffic of both passenger and goods trains.

There was a comfortable waiting room that we used on the Manchester line side of the station. It was lit by a gas mantle with heating provided by a coin-operated gas fire. The walls were adorned by large coloured posters promoting holiday destinations about which I could only dream. The one that always caught my imagination was for Scarborough.

A favourite vantage point was the passenger footbridge linking the two platforms where we used to wait to see the express steam trains that ran between Liverpool and Manchester. I vividly remember the excitement when the old semaphore signal clattered down to herald the train’s imminent passage, the strange humming sound that came from the rails as the train came into distant view then the climax as it passed under the bridge with a huge roar and engulfed us all in a cloud of coal-smoke and hot steam.

One occasion that sticks in the memory was the annual excursion train that took disadvantaged invalid children along with their nun and other carers from the north of England to Liverpool as the first stage in their pilgrimage to Lourdes in Southern France in the hope that the holy water there would cure their various disabilities. Counting carriages on trains for some reason in those days was a boyhood obsession. The Lourdes train broke all records with 24 carriages. I can still see in my mind’s eye all the young children at the carriage windows, some with nuns bending over them. Young though I was; my heart went out to the poor, poverty-stricken and disabled young souls whose life struggles made our own problems seem like a walk in the park.

A lot of the rail traffic was goods trains with ancient steam locomotives pulling scores of wagons, many of them laden with coal, travelling at a more pedestrian pace than the passenger traffic. The final wagon of the train was always the Guard’s Van with the uniformed guard usually leaning out of it and happy to wave back to us as the train wended its steady way along the line.

All through the night there would be a continuous cacophony from the marshalling yards close to the station as wagons were continuously shunted into position. Somehow the endless rattle of wagon buffers hitting wagon buffers and engines noisily letting off steam or simply getting into motion was strangely soporific after the first couple of nights.

 

 

 

[kizzy]

That area of Bold/Burtonwood/Sutton is an area I do know well. I lived in Douglas Ave off Neils Rd. in the 80s and used to walk to Sutton village through the fields. We lived opposite the power station and Bold pit before they closed and I remember watching those power station chimneys reduced from five to two. Then a few years later watching the final two demolished early one Sunday morning

[Big_Jeff_Leo]

My Dad remembers well that B24 Crashing.........he was in Junction Lane at the time with my Nan in a Queue for food...........he ran straight to it.

He said that the crew looked like big bears when they brought them out, because of their flying suits and jackets and that they were burned. There was this fella in Sutton with a workshop and he would make a ring for you from the glass for a shilling. You had to go to the field and find the glass though. 

LOOKING BACK: St Helens' worst air disaster 75 years ago today

WWW.STHELENSSTAR.CO.UK

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SEVENTY-FIVE years ago today (August 30) St Helens endured its worst air disaster when an American bomber crashed at Bold.

 

[HORT]

[Alan]

The last time I visited Sutton was in the mid 1990s when Carlisle Border Raiders RLFC played that team that variously named itself among other names as Runcorn and Prescot, and finally located to the St Helens Town FC ground in Hoghton Road or a similar named street near where the old Bold Power Station was

Edited July 27 by Alan

[DEVON BOY]

I remember battery cob well we used to walk from Clock Face to Hunt for shell causes happy days 

[Alan]

On 25/07/2023 at 15:11, Alan said:

a news-agent across the road in Tennis Street halfway between Greenfield and Windleshaw Roads owned by Bill Young and his Dad

I just remembered that he may have been called Bill by some but I'm sure his real name was Wilf

[Big_Jeff_Leo]

23 hours ago, Alan said:

The last time I visited Sutton was in the mid 1990s when Carlisle Border Raiders RLFC played that team that variously named itself among other names as Runcorn and Prescot, and finally located to the St Helens Town FC ground in Hoghton Road or a similar named street near where the old Bold Power Station was

Runcorn Highfield Alan, I used to go and watch them with my best mate big Neil and the old fella,

"In August 1990 Runcorn Highfield signed a 99-year agreement with St Helens Town A.F.C. and moved to Hoghton Road for the 1990–91 season. In the summer of 1991, during the close season, Runcorn Highfield changed their name to plain Highfield. They continued to use the ground until St Helens Town A.F.C. decided to increase the rent on the ground. Highfield moved to Valerie Park in Prescot during the 1994–1995 season and at the start of the 1995–1996 season, they were renamed Prescot Panthers".

[Alan]

Thanks, Jeff. I went to all of those grounds with Carlisle Border Raiders. One abiding memory is of not using the team coach and going by car. Then coming away from the Hoghton Road ground, assuming I knew my way through St Helens town centre to call at my sisters in Laffack and getting hopelessly lost

[Big_Jeff_Leo]

[Alan]

4 hours ago, Big_Jeff_Leo said:

Runcorn Highfield Alan, I used to go and watch them with my best mate big Neil and the old fella,

When they were at Runcorn, their Chairman was Terry Hughes and the other  board members I can recall were Geoff Fletcher and Ian Swann. Geoff Fletcher became Chairman when they moved to Hoghton Road and he stayed with them as Chairman of Prescot Panthers

[Big_Jeff_Leo]

[Alan]

Geoff Fletcher was a great character. I remember him creating mayhem at an RFL Council Meeting over the unfair distribution of Sky money when Superleague was formed. A former player, I last met him about 20 years ago when he had a shop, maybe a post-office, at Marshalls Cross. I think he died about four years ago

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added 50 minutes later

That photo of the Hoghton Road ground is exactly as I remember it