Open Writing

The sudden return of Mabel Owen to the north-east from London for the birth of her baby, was not the first in the family. Three years earlier, her young niece Jane Alice Christie (formerly Chapman), daughter of Mabel's older brother Jack, did the same thing. She moved south with her parents in 1930, married in 1931 and then returned to Shields (without her husband) but with her mother, for the birth of her first child Brenda in 1932. Grandmother, mother and child then returned to London. Was this a natural fear of childbirth away from the supportive family environment, or was it an example of the Geordie matriarchal influence of the time?

Once back in the north-east, Mabel was much happier but the family was much poorer. In true Geordie style, family and friends came to their assistance. Her parents, who by now had retired to the Aged Miners' Homes in Marsden Road, offered some financial aid. Her sister Ada and sister-in-law Kate, did everything they could to help.

The family's previously owned furniture was rescued and while Mabel made the best of her new home, her husband and daughters were off to Wawn Street Labour Exchange to seek work. They found very little. There was nothing available for Jimmy, but his daughter Addie got fixed up working in the laundry of the town's Ingham Infirmary and her sister Jenny at nearby Wrights Biscuits.

The Owen household was not a happy place during the long cold winter of 1934/34. The unpleasant weather continued into the Spring as the country started to prepare for King George V Silver Jubilee. Temperatures were below normal as sporting enthusiasts prepared for the England v Scotland Football International at Hampden Park and the annual Oxford and Cambridge Boat Race. With so many people unemployed, it was highly topical that 'Love on the Dole' was on at the Sunderland Empire.

A race horse called April the Fifth won the Derby in 1932 and it was on that date three years later that Mabel gave birth to a healthy eight-pound son at 13 Tyne Terrace - where the Frank Bushell House now stands. Nurse Buckland - a colleague of Nurse Clark, supervised the uneventful birth and was one of the godparents at the Christening several weeks later.

I'm told that Jimmy and Mabel Owen had difficulty in choosing a name for the their son and the birth was not registered until five weeks later. In the end, tradition ruled and the newly born was named after two uncles. I was therefore named Robert after my mother's brother and Edward after my father's brother, who was tragically killed during the 1914 -18 War.

I am told that I was a healthy, quiet and serious baby who walked and talked early. Others claim I was never a typical baby and was always in advance of my years. Whatever my personal characteristics, I must have been fairly active because at a very early age, I hauled a large sideboard over while pulling myself up to walk at my aunt's house in Newcastle. I believe it caused a lot of damage. When I was a little older and had observed someone shouting 'Gazette, Gazette' in the town, I must have been the youngest paper boy ever, when I put some newspapers under my arm and paraded up and down the passage shouting, 'Gallet, Gallet'.

A year or so after my birth, Nurse Clark kept her promise. One of the flats she owned in Boldon Lane became vacant and she offered it to us. Unlike our previous move, this was only about 300 yards, not 300 miles. It must have produced an interesting procession of people carrying furniture and household goods from Tyne Terrace and across the road to the other side of the 'Fad', the local name for Boldon Lane.

Our new neighbours were Ethel and Frank Halliday. Ethel was Nurse Clark's younger sister and my mother's friend from childhood days at Double Row. They had four children, and their youngest son Cyril was about two years older than me. Like our mothers, we were to become life-long friends.

During 1936 when the country was rocked by Edward VIII's abdication and while Jessie Owens was winning four gold medals at the Berlin Olympics, the Owen family struggled to exist with a new baby to feed. Jimmy Owen could only find part-time or temporary work and living conditions went from bad to worse. If the truth was known, it is possible he rued the family's return from London and looked upon the birth of his son as the principle cause of the trouble.

The one bright spot was that both my sisters continued in full-time work. They also doted over their new little brother. I'm told Jenny often used to take me for a walk in the pram along the 'Fad' and surprised onlookers used to stop and say, "I didn't know you were married!" She would quickly reply, "I'm not! This is my little brother."

In May 1938 she did marry - a local lad called Leslie Grant. He was a bus driver and in the long tradition of the time he lived only about 400 yards away in Brinkburn Street. Jenny and Leslie initially lived in Newcastle but after a few months, just as Len Hutton was making his record score of 364 at the Oval, they moved back to South Shields. Again in the tradition of the north-east, they found a vacant flat in Cranford Street, just off Stanhope Road and near to their respective families. I was a little over three years of age at the time, but remember nothing of my sister's wedding.

My first vague recollection came a few months later when at long last, my father found a full-time job. This was at Rosehill Colliery, Wallsend on the north side of the River Tyne. Addie went to stay with some friends, while my father and mother took me with them to live in a newly found flat in Wallsend. A small van or lorry must have been hired to move our limited household goods, because I am conscious of sitting on somebody's knee in a motor cab as we crossed the river on a ferry boat. The thrill of my first car and boat trip seems to have stimulated my first childhood memory.

I have no memory of our life at Wallsend. Perhaps this was because again we didn't stay very long. For some reason I was never able to determine, my father's new job was not a success. Whether his new work mates found out about his history south of the river I don't know. Whatever the reason, within six months we returned to our home town with all its recurring problems. This time, we only managed to find a small three-roomed flat in Southey Street, at the bottom, rather than at the top of the mile long Stanhope Road. Sandwiched between the Clinic and the Transport Sheds, our new accommodation at least allowed Addie to return to the family home.

Shortly after we moved in, we had some very distinguished visitors, none other than King George VI and Queen Elizabeth. At least that's what my mother told me. I think however, it had something to do with the official opening of the new Chichester Health Clinic in February 1939 - the rear wall of which was only about twenty yards from our front door. The occasion provided me with my second childhood memory. This was of sitting on my father's shoulders in a large crowd and cheering the visiting royalty.

Our Southey Street house was very near to the sheds containing the South Shields Corporation buses and trams. This was an exciting, but unsafe playground for any three-and-a -half year old. I have vague memories of watching the trams and trolley buses going in and out of the sheds and being chased away by some transport official. They must have got tired of chasing me away because I was told later, when my mother came looking for me, they invited us in to have a look around. They asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up and I said without hesitation, "A point boy."

For the uninformed, a point boy was a young boy who worked at trolley-bus road junctions and pulled respective handles attached to the overhead trolley wires, in order to allow the buses to proceed safely in the desired direction. If this was not done in time, the trolleys came off the wires and everything at the road junction stopped. Allegedly, the transport people took my name and address and told me to come back after I left school. Amazingly, eleven years later, I did have an interview with the Transport Department, but not for the position of point boy. I did not get the job and thought better of mentioning the incident in 1939.