Dad passed away first, followed by mum several years later. Dad was 73 and died of undiagnosed stomach cancer. He had been an engineer on Lowestoft fishing boats all his life.
With mum passing we were given a week to clear everything out. Many old photos of me as a child cropped up , and a citation from France awarded my Father the Croix de Guerre and star, their second highest award. We now know my father had worked with S.O.E. getting spy agents and downed air either in and out of France’s south coast.
One photo is of my mum holding my pram with a fag in hand, me in the pram of course. On the reverse she has written ‘Taken in the town 3 weeks ago.’ That was my mum.
The house that I lived in as a child was down an unmade road, a loke. The house, one of a pair was old, had no gas or electricity and the lav was down the garden, but I did have fields, ponds, orchards and woods to play in.
We also spent a lot of time at nan’s house, mum’s mum, this was on St Margaret plain, and again was old but had gas for lighting and cooking down stairs. The street lights were also gas and I remember the lamplighter doing his job morning and evening.
I remember the 1953 floods when the gas failed until the gas works were back in operation. The sea wall was also demolished. For years after, me and friends would play in the vast caverns under the concrete slabs. Now it has mostly sunk into the sand.
I remember the foghorn sounding and the light from the light house flashing across the bedroom wall, with both going at night it was quite eerie.
Rationing didn’t end until 1954 for some things and my mum received extra for me. When visiting nan, the first thing she would ask was, ‘Got any spare marge or sugar?’
There were five fish and chip shops and pubs within a two or three minute walk. These commodities must have been comparatively cheaper then.
Infant and Junior schooling was at Gorleston Road. The lovely headmaster Mr Chapman did have to take me home when I took a loaded starting pistol to school and pulled the trigger in class, forgetting it was loaded, and again when I took it to school unloaded but knocked a boy out waving it around my head in the playground. The school is now demolished.
Next was Roman Hill secondary school. Here for some reason I was let off French to do more metal work and was called the class technician by Mr Liddle, mostly because I understood everything electrical but not much else. I was also allowed free reign of the science lab with acids and mercury.
Should have mentioned in metal works that I was left after brief instruction to use Myford Lathe as I wished.
After five years I was offered a job and spent some 44 years repairing everything audio. R/P’s radiograms, record decks, cassette decks, amps, speakers, mini disks, CDs and whatever came along.
Back to being 17. I was desperate for my own transport.
Being a genuine baby boomer, there was a choice. It was the era of mods and rockers. I certainly wasn’t going to be scruffy, so it had to be mod and a scooter. I thought the Lambretta was more streamlined, but it was hard to start and frequently didn’t, and engine vibration could give you pins and needles.
So my choice was a gold Vespa 150 Sportique. I escorted dad to the shop and told him, ‘sign here’ he said ‘do you know what you’re doing?’ He said the same thing a few years later when we bought a house at North Cove.
Some 18 months later they brought out the 180 Super Sport. Well it was a must have situation. Now I was old enough to sign my own HP agreement and I ordered a red one.
On arrival I requested some parts to be painted in dark metallic green. The dealer said it was the smartest he’d ever seen. The following year I bought another. Only the number plate appeared different.
The scooter, not me apparently, attracted the attention of a very young lady and Angela and I have been married for 55 years.
I did have two Suzuki’s and a big Honda in my 30s but now two wheels are a no no.
By the way, do watch the film Quadrophenia about mods and rockers.
