THEY WERE GHADSTLY WINTERS 1947-49

 With help from the City of Bristol, U.K. Archive. 

 

Aerial Picture from the 1920's/30's

Aerial photo' from rom the 20's/30's but nothing had changed by the time I'd began to form memories in say 1947/8

At the top and centre one of our local parks

https://eastvillepark.org.uk/history/

A breathing space for the working classes.  I spent so many hours there, sometimes on the boating lake where one could rent hand operated paddle boats; or canoes.

The park's northern boundary was the Bristol River Avon. From there was a walking trail on the river bank.  'Twas maybe three miles long, ending in a suburban village called Frenchay.

My High School friend Stephen M and I often walked that trail; chatting away and setting  the world to rights with our adolescent wisdom.

To the right is a (by then) a little used railway and brick viaduct.

It was there chiefly to service 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peckett_and_Sons

Peckett's specialised in Dockland Shunting Engines  which would utilize  the line as a route to Bristol's Avonmouth Docks; from there to be exported to all parts of the British Empire.

We kids could walk or cycle to the derelict Peckham's factory in a semi rural area called Clay Bottom. Call it Industrial Archaeology!

If we walked or cycled through Clay Bottom in season we would harvest wild growing blackberries.  If the harvest was bountiful Mum would make Blackberry and Apple Pies -  what a great combination!

Clay Bottom became a housing area.  My brother Steve and his wife had a home there; as did my friends Colin and Lorraine.

That lovely viaduct was eventually demolished in the name of Urban Renewal  (don't get me started!), and the creation of an Urban Motorway  (the M32)  linking the heart of Bristol to the M4 Motorway. Blue Collar neighbourhoods were divided in two by this  urban obscenity.  No more popping across the road to borrow a cup of sugar

To the right of the Viaduct you will see a white roofed building. It's the Grandstand at what was called the Eastville Stadium.  It was there for the working class sports of Greyhound Racing, and Motorbike Speedway.  It was also the rented stadium for the Bristol Rovers Football (soccer) Club.  By the time they used it there were stone or concrete standing terraces on three sides. The grandstand was for the nobs.

That now "razed to the ground" stadium is now the site of an IKEA store. BAH.  

The middle of the photo' is dominated by what looks like a factory and by two gas (using the British sense of the word) storage tanks,  We called them gasometers.

Coal (it had to be of a very gaseous type)  was super heated in the big building to release gas for heating or cooking. It was stored in the gasometers,  then transported in underground gas mains and small pipes to homes and small business for private/domestic usage.

 The "leftover" coal was known as Coke.  See

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coke_(fuel)

Coke was used in domestic fire places.  Like charcoal it was hard to ignite.  That being done there would be a glowing red and smokeless dire.   Perfect for toasting thick slices of bread or pikelets (using a toasting fork) then smothering with butter  -  to be eaten immediately! 

The British winters of 1947-49 were bitterly cold. 

Coal was used ubiquitously to generate electricity, to fire boilers in every type of industry, to fire railway engines, and for home heating.

There was a national shortage of coal; partly because of the privations of World War II; and partly because the coal industry was undergoing a huge restructuring because of the recent nationalisation of the means of production.

There was little enough coal to spare for home use.

Coke was the alternative.  So it is that I remember (and I've checked this memory with my oldest sister) that we could trek down to the Eastville Gas Works, there to wait in a long line.  We would get 1/2  cwt, or maybe a full cwt. of coke to tide us over.

I remember being there with Mum.  She wheeled the sack of coke back home in what had been the twin pram for me sister and me.

My sister remembers using not the pram but our side by side push-chair.

Can you imagine it.  My sister, maybe ten, eleven or twelve years old, was sometimes entrusted with this errand, and with the task of pushing it on the mile or so home.  Imagine me trotting alongside.

By the time normality was reached our coal would be delivered in sacks by "the coalman" (or course), and carried through the house to the coal bin in our back garden.  My twin or I were deputed to count the number of sacks which were carried through the house lest we be short-changed.

Central heating was unheard of for the working classes.  Our home had a couple of open fire places, one of which was replaced by a sort of stove which provided good heat.  It wasn't a range, but Mum sometimes let porridge cook slowly (overnight) using the vestigial heat.

And  (horror of horrors)  we had a couple of  free standing paraffin (kerosene) stoves  to take the chill off the air.   How bloody dangerous!)