More Lambeth Memories from Daniel Beecham

I was born into the Beecham family on the 29th December 1948.  
I was born in what was then a 2 up 2 down with the staircase in the middle of the house.  You entered the house by stepping down one step in to the passage which ran the full length of the house down to the scullery which would now be called the kitchen.  

The first room on the right was the parlour, a room that was little used during the week but on a Sunday evening the tin bath was brought in from the yard and a family bath time was the order of the day. As you progressed towards the scullery you passed the staircase, and then my grandfather’s bedroom next, then on to the scullery.

From the scullery which held an enamel gas cooker and sink, you could pass through the rear door into the yard and on to the outside lavi.  At the rear of the yard was an Anderson shelter left over from the war which in later years was put to great use a a playroom for us children.

One lasting memory of that house was a crack in one wall which according to my father was a legacy of the bomb that was dropped on Lollard Street during the war.  But more on that later.

Number 34 Lollard St. is the one right next to the telegraph pole, this photo was taken in the sixties.

Upstairs were the bedrooms. The back bedroom belonged to my parents and the front bedroom was for all the children.  My cousins, the Kelly’s once told me a story about them which now seems impossible:-

Apparently during the war their father who was of Irish descent, took his family back to Ireland.  When the war was over he brought them all back, but they obviously had nowhere to live so they moved in with my family. So at that time there was my grandfather, father, mother, two sisters and brother. Them moving in added another father, mother and five sisters.  Where did they all sleep?

At that time the close family consisted of Grandfather (Joseph in his 80s then), Dad (Michael 46), Mum (Edith 36), Step Sister (June Tibbles 12), Sister (Rose 8) and Brother (Michael 4).

In this picture which was taken in about the early 60’s,  he is sitting on his bed in the back bedroom using the light from the window to pick horses for a bet.  It had to be a horse ridden by Lester Piggot. It was always an each way bet that when I got older I had to take to the bookies runner and place the bet.

Dan, Micky, June, Rose and Mum.

So at the great age of 4½ in the summer of 1953, I had to start getting ready for school, up until this point I had never had a haircut, and I took great pains to explain to my mother that I did not want one. I even had the cheek to pick a nice blue ribbon for my hair.  Mother being mother, took no notice of my pleadings and with the help of a close friend, (to me my aunt Grace) they dragged me kicking and screaming to what I now am informed was Palladino’s to have my first haircut.  I have never liked having my hair touched ever since.  Although with reluctance I will have my haircut now.

The day arrived and I was duly taken to Walnut Tree Walk school, out of our house across the road, turning right at the Rose and Crown pub into Gundulf Street, then left into Fitzalan Street. (I eventually made friends with a lad I called Foxy who lived at 20 Fitzalan Street). Then on to the school on the right hand side before you got to the Lambeth Walk, through a big green gate and up a passage that led through to the Primary school playground.

When I progressed on to the Junior School I would walk the same way but when arriving at the Primary School playground, would go through another passage on the right hand side of the school that cut through to Walnut Tree Walk Street and then into the school.

To give you some idea of my friends and people I knew at that time, Billy Court and his brother lived in the prefabs at 104 Lollard Street, a friend named Lesley Presley lived at about 33 Gundulf Street, The James family lived at 38 Gundulf Street, the Sullivans lived at 18 Gundulf Street, A lad whose second name I have forgotten lived over the road from the Sullivans, I think number 19 Gundulf Street, Teddy Cave, I think, at 31 Lollard Street, Mary Richardson at 33 Lollard Street, and Roger Winston whose number I can't remember.

Some Lambeth Memories from Les Crow

I was No. 4 in the Crow dynasty, John was the oldest born in 1943, then David in 1945, Janice in 1950, me in 1954 and Paul, the youngest came along in 1958.

Because of the age difference between us, my memories are a little different from Johns, so I thought I’d like to add some of my memories to our Uncle Jim’s blog site.

As John said, we lived on the top floor of No12 Tracey Street, Mum, Dad and five kids in three rooms so there wasn’t much room at all.  Our kitchen, like so many in those post-war days, was basically the top floor landing where Mum had a Gas cooker and a "Kitchenette" – No fridge, no washing machine or sink! We had a small sink and a cold tap one flight down, on the turn of the stairs. How Mum cooked at all must have been a miracle but she managed a cooked meal everyday (sometimes twice a day because when we were at Walnut Tree Walk school, we all went home for a cooked lunch).  We always had a full Roast dinner every Sunday then our Mum would spend the rest of the afternoon scrubbing the cooker.  She did it in record time if she was annoyed with our Dad for getting drunk up the pub at lunchtime!  It was a frequent occurrence! 

We spent most of our time in the "Living Room" at the back of the house.  There was a fitted cupboard in this room with two fantastic paintings of Donald Duck and Mickey Mouse on.  Apparently, a previous lodger had painted them and that’s where they stayed for years.  We had a coal fire and our Mum used to hold a big sheet of newspaper over the front to create a draft to get it going.  This was also the room where we were all scrubbed to within an inch of our lives in the tin bath on a Friday night.  I think when John and Dave were older they were given money to go to the Public Baths for their weekly scrub. After our bath, the nit comb would come out so Mum could inspect our heads.  She wasn’t going to let “Nitty Norah” find nits on any of her kids!  Our Bedroom was in the front where  Mum & Dad, Janice, me and later Paul slept – all very cosy especially after Dad had been down the pub on the Guinness & Bitter!  Mum used to spend ages leaning out of the top floor window chatting to all the other women in the road, who were all doing the same thing.

Our Nanny O’Shea had the whole of the ground floor but she spent most of her time in her back room where there was a kitchen/scullery, as far as I remember the front room was NEVER used although Jan remembers it being used after family funerals. There was also a piano in that room which Dad would play from time to time according to Jan.  Nan’s bedroom was on the first floor alongside John and David's room.  Our Dad, who was a plumber in those days, fitted a bathroom but I can't ever remember ever using it. There is talk of it “falling off the back of a lorry” but I’m not sure that was true.  Our Grandad, Philip O’Shea who died in 1952 went mad apparently, because he said if the landlord found out, he would put the rent up.  The bathroom stayed where it was though!

We had a back yard with an outside toilet which we called the Lavvie, complete with either IZAL toilet paper or squares of the Evening Standard hanging on a piece of string. For some reason there was a rusty old Lee-Enfield rifle tucked away in the corner!  That khazi or carsey had a smell of its own, not nasty, just of cold & damp distemper!

Like all the others I went to Walnut Tree Walk School. Sadly I can't remember much about this time. I think my first class room had a roaring fire, and I can still taste the rubber hose we used in the water tank to blow bubbles. Playtime was spent playing Cowboys in the playground, galloping up and down spanking our hides in time to sound like horses then having a tumble with the baddies. I remember the Reading Cards and the Janet & John books, but hope this may jog a few memories for others. 

One thing sticks in my mind, I seem to remember that the Walls Ice Cream factory was located close to the school and every so often they would come around and give us all a choc ice!

Mum had a huge family of Aunts and Uncles living close by. Their surname was Rapley.   Her Aunt Mary (nee Rapley)  Uncle Fred Powell and their son Kenny, lived in Wake Street at the bottom end by Lollard Adventure Playground. Aunt Emm (Tatnell)  & Aunt Polly Rapley I think, lived off China Walk.  “Charlie’s  Mary" lived opposite us in Tracey Street and Aunt Sarah lived in Fitzalan Street.  Our Mum loved all her aunties, they were strong women with vocabularies to match!  Many of them worked for the Royal Doulton factory as Char Ladies. You’ve never seen so many Royal Doulton “seconds” as her Aunt Mary had.  They must have been worth a fortune, even though they were imperfect.  My sister Jan remembers them all getting together round Aunt Em’s flat and making lampshades to make some extra money.  I’d like to have been a fly on the wall during one of those sessions! 

The Rapley Sisters and friends on a Beano to Margate

From left:  Unknown; Aunt Mary; Aunt Polly; Aunt Emmy; our Nan (Betty O'Shea) at the back; and Aunt Sarah, also at the back. No idea who the other ladies are - sorry.

At one stage our Uncle Jim, who this site is dedicated to, lived in the middle of the house in Tracey Street with his wife Gladys.  When they moved, I think they moved near to the Elephant and Castle and later on to Stockwell.  Jim and Glad as they were known, were absolutely lovely.  From Stockwell, Jim, Glad and their daughter Gillian moved into a lovely flat off the Portland Road.  They had to move out of Stockwell because poor Gill got mugged a couple of times on the way home from work!  

Nanny O'Shea, Jimmy, Gladys and Cousin Maureen at the front door

of 12 Tracey Street. Coronation Day 1953.

Aunt Glad is now in her 80s and still lives in London with Gill and is enjoying life.  She worked for M & S for donkeys years and when she retired she became one of the M & S pensioners.  They used to really look after their staff in those days.  They had a visiting dentist, chiropodist, hairdresser and days trips out were organised regularly for their staff.  I think it’s a lot different now!

Jim and Glad always treated us well.  Every Christmas they would buy me a box of "Britain's Solders." These would range from Cowboys and Indians, British Army from WW2, Guards & Knights in Armour….. they were absolute magic! I would play in the Coal Scuttle for hours. As I got older they upped the ante and gave me Victor Boys Annuals – some of which I still have today.

Jimmy, Gladys & Gillian 1962

Cousin Kenny would always stick a few coppers or a tanner, even a shilling in your hand when he could and Aunt Mary would always make you welcome with a cup of tea and cake. She made the best coffee in the world - Camp coffee made with full fat hot milk.  If you were lucky, she may have made a batch of Mince Meat Pies (proper lamb I think too) they were gorgeous. If for some reason you said you didn’t want a drink or something to eat she’d say “What the f***ing ‘ells wrong with my food then?” Uncle Fred was as deaf a as post so the telly was always on high and it was always Horse Racing!  The men all loved a flutter.  We were always aware of the colourful language they used, in fact, our brother John used to warn his children about them before he took them to visit.  They must have been terrified but that’s how the Rapley girls were - true Lambeth Walkers from the old days – they had hearts of gold but Lord help anyone who crossed them or anyone they cared about.   I just wish I could remember all of them, I believe there were about 10 originally. 

   

Our Dad’s family all lived down in Kent as like a lot of people, they were bombed out during the Blitz. Other Nanny (as we called her) was bombed out of Fountain Gardens off the Lambeth Walk and moved to Westgate-on-Sea on the Kent coast.  Her daughter and husband, Aunt Ede & Uncle Ted ran the Britannia Pub in Margate in the days when Beanos were popular.   Dad's brother, Uncle Joe & Aunt Pat lived in Garlinge, as did Uncle Ed and his wife Betty.  We had some great times down there on the beach, crabbing, picking winkles and cockles – we were really lucky as a lot of kids in our street didn’t even see the sea back then.  Our holidays were always spent with Other Nanny and Pop – looking back it was idyllic for us as kids.  They had a two-bedroomed house in Westgate with an outside loo and no bathroom.  Can you imagine what it must have been like when seven of us descended on them for two weeks!!  I think Pop may have objected but Other Nanny loved it.

Looking back, Tracey Street was a wonderful place;  just imagine a street about a mile from Westminster – with virtually no cars (well apart from Dad’s and one or two others). God knows how many kids lived on the street, but we all played out till dark playing Cannon, Tin Can Tommy and generally getting up to mischief.

We would tie lengths of cotton to the knocker of one house,  shift ourselves down the street and give it a tug, Older boys would tie rope to the door knob of one house and tie the other end to the house opposite – then knock on the door, we must have drove the neighbours bonkers!

Lollard Street playground was at the end of the Street, behind the Barrow yard as I remember. This is where we learnt things they didn't teach at school - like how to start and respect a fire! I don’t remember anyone getting burnt, but having a fire was a daily occurrence even for us youngsters – the big kids made sure of that. We would cook apples and bake potatoes till they were black! The ground was mainly very clay so we would make figures which either ended up on the fire or shot at with catapults. I remember one night in the summer the grass was covered in Ladybirds, 1000s & 1000s of them.

Mum, as all mums did in those days, did her shopping daily.  The Walk was our Shopping Centre, we had a Sainsburys, complete with sawdust on the floor, where we got our cold meats and dairy products – the staff used to make-up the butter into packs using the wooden paddles. I seem to remember potatoes came from the chap on the potato stall. Pecrys supplied all sorts of cotton stuff, tea towels, bath towels, sheets bedding & stuff – it was packed to the hilt with merchandise. Ernie Noad’s (one of Dad’s mates) is where we all got our shoes – as well as the normal brown sandals and Plimsolls; I remember I got my pair of Tuff Pathfinders and Puma Football Boots from there.

Can anyone remember getting their hair cut in Palladino's?

Other favourites were Meiklejohns  Toy shop - anyone who remembers this place check out the short film made by the owner,  it might be on YouTube or try Bring Back Lambeth Walk page on Facebook - pure gold.

Marcantonio's Ice Cream Parlour, where we could get wigwams/ cornets/wafers/ Ice Cream Floats – nothing could touch them. I've struggled to find anything that comes close to the Ice Cream they had – I'm still looking!  And of course Boroughs Pie n Mash Shop on Saturday Lunchtime after Saturday Morning flix – the best meal in the world – even now.

 

Sunday was always different in those days. Shops were all closed but markets weren't! We would often be taken to East Lane or The Cut early on a Sunday- for whatever reason. We were sometimes treated to a hot glass of Sarsaparilla. On the way home Dad would call into his local for his Sunday pint (or four) and then make a detour to Bob Whites which meant we had Winkles/ Cockles, Whelks Mussels Crab, Prawns and brown Shrimps - complemented by bread and butter and a salad mum would knock up from somewhere. This would be just a few hours AFTER she had done the traditional Sunday Roast and scrubbed the oven!

On most Sunday afternoons, us kids were expected to be out of the way either at Sunday School or over the Imperial War Museum – we spent hours and hours over there, running around the corridors turning knobs and wheels on various cabinets. 

 Apparently, the day after I was born we got a television. What I do remember later is they didn’t broadcast all the time as they do now, it would start midway through the afternoon and go off at 10.30. Popular TV shows were Tug Boat Annie, Ivanhoe, Take you Pick, Double your Money, Popeye, Sunday night at the London Palladium, All Our Yesterdays, Trailers of TV Commercials on a Monday morning were always .......interesting!

There are so many things that come to mind of that era which I haven’t covered yet.  Bedlam Pool, the disabled guy on his tricycle who used his arms to peddle it around, the coalman, the milkman, Dog-end Charlie, the Rag and Bone Man, the French Onion Seller on his bicycle, the big Chip shop fire in Ethelred Street – can anyone remember that?  

May be I will put another piece together - or if anyone else would like add their "two-penneth" send your memories to my sister Jan at lambethkids@googlemail.com

 Like Jimmy said “Photos are not enough – if people don’t write things down, memories will be lost forever.”

Contributed by Les Crow October 2017

It is with the deepest sadness that I have to report that my brother John Crow died suddenly after a short illness in late November last year.  John was a contributor to this page and also contributed to pages like Bring Back The Lambeth Walk on Facebook.  His memories of old Lambeth kept us all in stitches on many occasions.  He was a huge presence wherever he went - a great family man and just a few months before, had celebrated his 50th Wedding Anniversary surrounded by the wife he adored, his adult children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, siblings and friends.   He was loved of course by all his family but also loved by his colleagues, one of whom said that he was one of the most popular policemen in the Hampshire Police Force. After his retirement, he remained friends with many of his colleagues and often met up with them for a pint and a pie.  They came out in droves to his funeral to support his wife and family and pay their respects and at the end of the service they joined in the clapping as John's favourite band, Status Quo played Rocking All Over the World.  His family did him proud!

It would have been John's 74th Birthday today and we are all still grieving his loss.  He was my oldest brother, seven years older in fact, and the one who stood up for me whenever I was in trouble with our Mum.  He has always been there for me throughout my life, as a brother but like a father too after our Dad died.  I miss him immensely but I hear his voice often in my head, cracking jokes or taking the mickey out of someone (he was excellent at that, but never maliciously).  Yesterday I was looking at his photo and I heard him say "It's alright here love, Mum and Dad are fine and it's OK".  So I guess I don't have to pick up the phone to talk to him anymore - I can talk to him anytime and he's ALWAYS got something to say in return!!

So, as a tribute to him on his birthday, I am sharing some of his Memoirs here on Jimmy's Lambeth.  He sent them to me years ago and I believe he added more to them over the years.  He believed, the same as our Uncle Jim,  in the importance of writing memories down before they are lost forever.  These are random snippets which I hope will jog your memory and make you smile or even belly-laugh - that's what John did best.  It was an honour to be his little sister.............

"The trouble with writing something like this is because so much happened to us as children, I find I keep switching backwards and forwards in time and from place to place.  It's difficult to edit, so I won't bother and just tell it as I remember it"  John

"At that time in London, we were still suffering the aftermath of the Second World War as far as bombsites were concerned.  Large areas close to our home were bombsites and these were our only playgrounds when the neighbours got fed up with us in the streets.  We were told to piss off up the "debris" as it was called.

Our favourite place was the Lollard Street School bombsite, which was situated between Lollard Street and Ethelred Street at the end of Wake Street.  This was the site of my mum's school, which was firebombed during a particularly heavy air raid and totally destroyed.

As kids we would light fires on it, burning anything we could find.  There were still some interior and exterior walls remaining and these were the subject of climbing and efforts to knock them down with our bare hands failed miserably.  The whole area later became the first ever adventure playground in the UK, known as The Lollard Adventure Playground.  It still exists in a different form today and celebrated its 50th birthday on the 27th August 2005.  Back then it was run and organised by a couple named Mr & Mrs Turner.  Lady Allen of Hurtwood, who visited the site on a regular basis, supported the idea - I still don't know who she was.

They transported an old massive army hut onto the Adventure Playground site, which was used as the main meeting place for the local kids.  A second smaller hut housed the craft workshop where kids could paint and draw, make pots and figures from clay and have them fired.

Those involved even moved a railway carriage onto the site via Wake Street - a task that took hours due to the narrow end of Wake Street at the Lambeth Walk end.  This, I recall, caused awful problems for the local Lambeth Walk market, having an entire railway carriage going through it on a huge low-loader.

What the playground did do, was this; it kept kids out of trouble and off the streets.  It allowed you to have hammers, nails, pick-axes and other tools for making dens and huts etc.  You could take up boxing there if you wanted to.  Kids were allowed to light fires providing they were reasonable and cook potatoes in the ashes.  If you were lucky you could nick some beans or tinned fruit from the stalls in the Walk and have a picnic!  Parents knew where their children were and they knew they were safe.  We didn't know of child molesters that I could recall..............."

"Tracey Street was only about 2 miles from both Lambeth Bridge and Westminster Bridge.  In fact, you could see Big Ben from Mum's bedroom window if you ignored all the chimney pots.  There were times when that was the only way we told the time, by looking out of the bedroom window!

"Mum was a hoarder, the place was full of piles of clothes, curtain material, bedding, towels, you name it, Mum collected it.  She was like that all her life - she never chucked anything in case it comes in handy. I have picked this up from her, as I believe has Jan and my brothers.  I think we were the only family in the street not to get a goldfish off the rag and bone man who called round weekly for old clothes in return for a goldfish in a jam jar.  No old clothes - no fish!  The only thing Mum used to throw out of the window was the odd penny to the street singers who walked the streets singing on Sunday mornings.  I can remember her throwing the coin out and telling the poor sod to piss off up the street and annoy someone else.

The Salvation Army used to come around on Sunday mornings as well.  The entire brass band would stop outside our house and after spouting off for a few minutes would burst into song or play a rousing hymn.  This would go on for about 15 minutes or so then they would move on.  The one we liked calling was the Hokey Pokey Man.  He sold ice-cream from a three-wheeled bike with a large container on the front. His cry would be: "Hokey Pokey, tuppence a lick"!  Another visitor to the street in those days was a bloke with a horse and cart that had a roundabout on the back.  We would get on the various wooden animals and he would wind a handle to turn the roundabout.

"I was once reliably informed that horses were only allowed to piss on a certain side of the street.  Guess whose side that was?  Yes - OURS!  A huge stream of yellow urine flooding down the gutter into the nearest drain right outside our house.  I wouldn't have minded but this was where we played marbles.

One of the things that went with the horse drawn deliveries was that, after they had gone, a bloke would appear from nowhere with a shovel and bucket and scoop up the horses manure left behind.  It was almost as if he knew when they had done it, as he was on it so quick.  I understand it was for putting on rhubarb.  Well, we used to have custard on ours....................

"Several gangs roamed the streets in those days. 'The Tinworth Mob' from an infamous block of flats named Tinworth House in Vauxhall and The Lollard Boys, which I suppose we were in.  Finally although we did not get involved with them, there were The Elephant Boys from the Elephant and Castle area.  This lot were the worst - they always armed themselves with cudgels with nails in the end and were never afraid to use them. They used to turn up suddenly on our ground, armed to the teeth and beat up anyone they saw and they would search them and steal whatever money they had.  We would get the other gangs together, visit their ground and do the same to them.  I often wonder how I never got either badly beaten or ended up locked away in Borstal.  Many of my school friends did end up there.

"Local families were assorted oddballs as well.  I remember one lot who lived a few streets away in a small end of terrace opposite a bombsite.  One day, I found an old lorry tyre on the site and rolled it down a slope into their road.  It rolled straight across the road and through the open front door, down the hallway amid sounds of smashing crockery and it came to a rest in the back kitchen, having knocked everything over in its path.  Somebody saw me do it and told the lady of the house (who shall remain nameless due to possible repercussions!) who promptly called round to have a go.  She turned up on the doorstep and started carrying on - Mum looked out of the top window to find out what all the fuss was about, only to be berated by this woman from three floors down.  She wouldn't listen or let Mum get a word in, so Mum told her to piss off and shut the window.  It didn't end there............. she continued to 'eff and blind' whilst banging on the door so Mum being Mum, tipped a washing up bowl of dishwater out of the top window right over the old cow's head.  She was soaked through and hurried off in a rage swearing about calling the Police but she never did.  Later Mum gave me a wallop for causing the trouble, even though I swore it was an accident!

Copyright:  The Crow family

More snippets from John to come................

Happy Birthday John

We will raise a large Gin & Tonic to you tonight!

xxxxxxx