It's A Great Life: 2 - The Cobbler
...When our shoes needed mending my father got out his cobbler's last and soled and heeled them himself. He always wore boots, and when I was younger, so did I...
Continuing his life story, Jack Merwood tells of his early life.
The toilets were outside, not flush toilets, but wooden buckets which were collected once a week and replacements left. The buckets were on shelves on a cart pulled by horses, and the men doing the work wore rubber gloves and a rubber apron. Rubber 'curtains' were let down to hide the cargo when the cart was on the move. Several years later WCs were installed.
At the top of the lane where we lived was a farm, and it was our daily duty on arriving home from school to go up to the farm with a jug to get the milk. Mr and Mrs Fallas kept the farm. Mrs Fallas's mother, an old lady by the name of Mrs Hanson, lived with them. Perhaps it was from her family that our lane derived its name.
When our shoes needed mending my father got out his cobbler's last and soled and heeled them himself. He always wore boots, and when I was younger, so did I. On our boots, and later my shoes, he put 'rubber heels'. These were thick round pieces of rubber. In the middle was a counter-sunk area shaped like a star, into which fitted a black piece of metal. There was a hole all the way through, and the heel was fastened to the shoe with a screw. If the boots weren't too worn, he hammered in 'segs', shaped pieces of metal, which could be fitted to both toes and heels.
When I was ten years old I passed the exam to go to high school. We had a choice of three schools: one you left when you were fourteen, the other two at sixteen. My parents needed the money so I went to the one to leave at fourteen. I learned French at this school. My father wondered why on earth they were teaching me French. None of my friends or relatives understood it. How could it ever be any use to me? But in spite of his misgivings, I always enjoyed the French lessons. Later my knowledge of French proved to be invaluable.
When I was about eleven we moved again, this time to no. 52 - 'the best house in Hanson Lane,' said my mother, for it had an upstairs, two bedrooms, a narrow passageway of a kitchen, a cellar - and ELECTRICITY. The family who lived there before us was called Newall and Mr Newall was an electrician working for the council. He had wired the house himself and none of the switches were alike. I remember that the switch into the cellar was always hanging off the wall.
**
To read Jack's vivid account of his wartime experiences To War With The Bays please click on http://www.openwriting.com/archives/to_war_with_the_bays/
