a Little bit from john

Thought i would add some more to Jimmys Lambeth. Like my sister Jan I grew up at 12 Tracey Street Kennington,London having been born during the latter part of the 2nd world war.
My first school was Walnut Tree Walk until leaving at 11 yrs to go to West Square near the Elephant and Castle.
Our playgrounds in those days were the street of South London and its Bombsites, one in particular was the site of Lollard St.School which was firebombed during the war and burnt to the ground. This later became the location of the Lollard Adventure Playground the first one of its kind in the U.K at the time.It started in the mid 50s and was run by Mr and Mrs Turner.
It still operates (although somewhat differently) to this day and celebrated its 50th birthday in I think August 2005.
My Uncle Jim like most of the youth in those days did his National Service in the far east and after that went into the print at a local printers called the Greengate Press at the Junction of Ethelred St. and Tracey St opposite the Greeengate Fish shop.
He later went into the Post Office and spent the rest of his working life as a postman.
My friends then were Sammy Kirk (now aLondon Taxi driver) Ray Wright, Alan Cole, Johnny Macarthy, and Lenny Tillier. I have not been able to locate any of the latter to this day.
A few other memories are of Shannons the sweet shop in Ethelred st. run by Old Mrs Shannonwho sold us tuppeny weights (fags) She was the mother of a family of sons some of who ran scap metal yards, One of them was a street bookie and part time driver for a newspaper. His name was Johnny Shannon who had some success as a small part actor in films. (he was the salesman in Fawlty Towers who gave Basil a horse to bet on. It was Dragonflyin case you have forgotten

Blitz Heroes

Our Aunt, whom everyone called "Charlie's Mary" lived over the road in Tracey Street with her daughter Maureen. We were told how Charlie died in the war but it was never explained how. I always remember how smart Charlie's Mary was - she seemed always to be dressed in navy blue and white, but I'm sure she must have worn other colours. Frequently, she wore a hat - a proper hat - not a beret, like our Nan used to wear. I thought she was very well-to-do because I never saw her in a cross-over apron like all the other women wore. You can have too much of a cross-over apron! Especially, when worn with a turban. Still, it was the attire of the time - just as long as I never have to wear one.

Well, a few months ago, whilst surfing the net, I came across an article about Charlie Rapley. I don't even know what I was looking for at the time, other than I might have been checking out Lambeth sites. Now I know what happened to Charlie and found that in 2004, thanks to his brother, my Great Uncle George he was posthumously awarded his World War 2 Defence Medal, which he would have been due had he survived.

It turns out that Charlie was an Air Raid Warden and on the night of 19th April, 1941 he was on duty at the Vestry of St Philips at 214 Kennington Road along with his friend, Issie (Israel) Kutz. They had both joined the ARP service at the start of the war in 1939. It seems that Air Raid Wardens were the butt of jokes but these men were the ones above the ground, whilst everyone else was in shelters, just waiting for the bombs to drop on their patch. They would be the first at the scene, bombs still dropping around them, so they could call up the help needed from the emergency services - frequently they were the ones making the initial rescues of trapped people. God knows why people made jokes about them - sounds to me like they were doing a splendidly courageous job. Not only that, they had to act as guards to prevent people looting the bombed premises.

The bomb apparently landed right on the Vestry and killed Charlie and Issey outright - it's believed that a 16 year old messenger also died from his wounds and also a woman. The role of the boy messengers was to ride bikes through the bombs and rubble to notify the other services of the situation if phone lines were down The woman was probably there on duty, to co-ordinate phone calls and paper work. Charlie was awarded his medal thanks to the efforts of his brother George, but I wonder whether Issie Kutz was ever awarded his - I'd like to think so.

Charlie's family would like to know if anyone who lived in the area during the war can throw any light on the names of the messenger and woman who died with Charlie and Issie with a view to placing a little plaque up at the site.

Charlie was apparently a very kind man, well liked by everyone for his generosity during the 30s. He was a bookie's tic-tac man who travelled all over the country for the various bookmakers who employed him and ended up working for William Hill's. He was an all-round sportsman winning three Kings Medals for excellence at Lollard Street School. Small wonder, Charlie's Mary looked well dressed and proud - I can imagine they would have made a handsome couple indeed.

Issie Kutz's family apparently had a shoe repair shop in Lambeth Walk which remained there for years after the war. The photograph above shows Charlie Rapley on the left and Issie on the right - probably taken at Folkestone before the races in 1937. If anyone recognises any of the others, please get in touch.

The Crow kids circa 1955/56

This must have been a special occasion as we were having this photo taken in our nan's front parlour of 12 Tracey Street, which was only used on high days and holidays - or funerals. John Crow is on the right (back) next to David with me, Janice, sitting on Dave's lap. Leslie's the little one with the sticky rock . I remember I always felt like the bees knees when I wore this dress. Get the haircut, Dave!!

On the subject of haircuts, the boys were always taken to Palladinos, the Barbers Shop, which I think was in Ethelred Street. As I was the only girl, I had to have my hair cut there too and I remember being terrified when he sharpened his razor on the big leather strap. Ironic that I ended up marrying a barber! Our youngest brother Paul wasn't born until 1958 so isn't in this photo.

On the day Leslie was born in September 1954, I remember we got another surprise as well. Our dad bought us a television - one of the first in Tracey Street - I suppose he thought it would keep us out of the way of our mum. It's funny how, as kids, we were never told anything - certainly never told if there was another baby on the way - they just turned up and then our mum got thinner again until the next time...........even if we had suspected it (and I was far too naive for that) we would NEVER have dared ask our mum. The night before Paul was born, I was told I had to sleep in my Nanny O'Sheas bed, which was a trauma in itself because I was terrified of her wardrobe. It was a polished oak thing and I was sure there were ghosts hiding inside just waiting to come out when it got dark. I remember hearing a baby crying in the night but still didn't twig until my aunt, whom we called Charley's Mary, came in to get me in the morning. She was always such a smart lady and didn't flinch at all when she picked me up in soaking wet pyjamas as I had wet the bed, probably with fear about the wardrobe. She carried me in to the bedroom on the second floor, the "posh" bedroom which also became our "lounge" at Christmastime - I never knew why! I remember looking at this little bundle and saying something like "Where did that come from?" Five kids in a three-roomed flat - our dad should have bought the telly before 1954. More about Charley Rapley to come..........

Jimmy O'Shea

James (Jimmy) O'Shea was my uncle, born on 24th December, 1926 in Lambeth to Philip and Elizabeth O'Shea (nee Rapley). A few years before Jimmy died on 25th August, 2004, he emphatically stressed to me the importance of writing our memories down for future generations. "People MUST write their memories down, otherwise it will all be forgotten" he said.

As I am getting older, I am realising that soon there will be no-one left to ask about Lambeth in the Fifties - about the poverty - the unwavering spirit of the people - the way the women of that era ALWAYS managed to put a good meal on the table, made from the cheapest cuts of meat they could find and there was always "afters" - usually tinned fruit and evaporated milk if we were lucky. They were memorable times and I would like to dedicate this site to Jimmy by writing my own memories and inviting people to post their memories on this blog. I am particularly interested in the area around Lambeth Walk. I was born at number 12 Tracey Street, off the Kennington Road. This area was sadly demolished, I believe, around 1963 to make way for the new Borough Beaufoy school. They were three-storey houses, commonly shared between three families. These houses would be worth a fortune now - probably marketed as three-storey town houses with courtyard gardens - only a stone's throw from Westminster! What would they be worth today?

As a child, my four brothers and I played on the Lollard Adventure Playground - which was effectively a children's play scheme on a bomb site. It was wonderful - dirty, dusty and wonderful. I can still smell the clay from the underground tunnels which we used to crawl around in. The boys used to make huts out of old bits of wood and corrugated iron and the girls used to make models and other crafts in an old train carriage. There was a hut, as I remember, where they had a record player and I used to watch my oldest brother John, jiving with the older girls. I must have been a real pain.

There was a fish and chip shop just off the bottom of Tracey Street, I can't remember the name, but our mum would send us down for fourpence of chips and a pennyworth o' crackling. The crackling was the best bit. The chips were piled into little greaseproof bags and then wrapped in newspaper. Scrumptious! Especially if we put loads of salt and vinegar on in the shop - no-one cared about having too much salt in those days!