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Memories of Leedsby Lilian Dailey (nee Dixon)
Part THREE
The Ireland Wood Estate then was quite a small one compared with the other large estates in and around Leeds. There were no shops, just a travelling Co-op van and the odd greengrocer calling. There was a 20 minute walk up Hospital Lane to the nearest bus stop and a very much longer walk to the nearest shops in West Park. This meant that in our isolation we all helped each other and built up a great community spirit, soon getting to know our neighbours and equipping our lovely new homes with whatever we could afford. Dad, Uncle John and Hughie made a start on the large garden at the back of the house and gave us items of garden tools. Daisy and the other Uncle John became regular visitors with bits and pieces from the saleroom, though they could not leave their premises for long. They had no children, unless you counted the endless number of stray animals they nurtured in their large yard. Their own particular pets were three cats and Peggy, a very large Irish wolfhound, as soft as she was ferocious looking. John said that apart from her fearsome looks any burglar who gave her a cuddle or stroked her coat would have been easily welcomed to their premises in Park Place. Hughie
often took Peggy for walks and when she saw Hughie she would throw her
lead towards the door, barking with a terrific din until they were clear
of the city. One Sunday he walked the dog all the way from City Square
via the Black Road to Temple Newsam, throwing sticks for her to fetch
when they reached the Park. They were both pretty tired and Hughie
attempted to board a tram for the return journey. One look at Peggy's
grizzled face and no tram conductor would allow her to travel, so it was
a long walk back home for both of them. Items of furniture were becoming available after the War and we bought a carpet for the front room, some utility furniture (on dockets still) and a roll of stair carpet, together with some solid brass stair rods purchased from the saleroom. We fitted the stair carpet one Saturday afternoon and allowed Alan to ride his little red tricycle around the spare empty bedroom while we worked. There was a knock on the kitchen door as Hughie was selecting a suitable screwdriver and I answered the door. There was such a clatter as Alan, still on the tricycle, came head over wheels down the full length of the stairs. I was horrified and so guilty that such a thing could happen - how could he have managed to open that bedroom door? He was shocked and soon consoled - there were no broken bones and he was soon back on his trike. Alan was a helpful little lad, very caring with a very innovative mind - so caring indeed that one day he took a full can of Vim, (a powder for cleaning greasy pans and cookers) shook it all the way down my new stair carpet, found himself a scrubbing brush with a bottle of water and scrubbed his way to the bottom of the stairs. The carpet had dark red flecks in the pattern and as he thought I didn't like them he had tried to remove them. The
following week I went into the garden to see why he and Gail were so
quiet. I watched for a minute or so - they had a small bucket containing
privet leaves, which they kept squashing, squeezing and rubbing on the
white concrete walls of the house to create mottled green patches. I
wasn't best pleased, but they tearfully explained they had heard me say
that the houses would have looked better if they were more colourful. Hughie was not able to work for the two weeks before Christmas and two weeks into the New Year - I was expecting my second child but in spite of the fact that we could only put a few groceries away each week we had a very good Christmas. The salesroom came up with a small second hand pedal-car, which we re-painted a shiny red with a number plate in white 'AHD 1' and of course there were more presents from our families. In the following spring, on the 22nd March 1951, our second son was born; again a Caesarean birth, and one of the Surgeons had fixed a nametape on the baby's wrist - "ANDREW", because the operation had been carried out by Professor Andrew Clay, apparently the top man in his field. Strange that my close friend and neighbour, Ann Nichols, who was expecting her baby about the same time, came home from hospital in April with a son also named Andrew. My two boys were alike as chalk and cheese, Andrew as fair as Alan was dark, with very different temperaments. They were devoted to each other and as they grew they enjoyed most things together. I recall the day soon after Alan started school at the little Infants' school along Iveson Road, when Andrew went missing. I was beside myself with worry when I found the garden gate open and no sign of the missing infant. As it was mid-afternoon and nearly time for lessons to end I ran along Iveson Road to get Alan and there was Andrew sitting beside Alan on the classroom floor apparently enthralled by what was going on in the lesson. That
year 1951 produced another good summer as I remember - we had lovely
picnics in the woods, caught tadpoles near the ponds, walked across to
Horsforth to visit the King family and possibly did some shopping along
the way. We had no shops near the estate - it was either the visiting
Co-op van, which was very popular, or a fair walk to West Park.
Seacroft in 1954 was not much different to this picture from 1927
Mrs.
Snell was a wonderful cook and though she could only accommodate two
families and an old couple at the one time, there was such a choice of
fare at every meal it was quite unbelievable. We had bowls of
raspberries from the garden with our breakfast cereals and a huge jug of
wonderful Guernsey milk. For our picnic lunch we had the fresh Guernsey
biscuits (lovely flat bread cakes) tiny wine tomatoes from a nearby
French gardener and fresh green figs, ( also from the garden) all washed
down by Mrs. Snell's home made lemonade. After a swim in one of the
bays, it was indeed a feast. We heard about Mrs. Snell from Uncle
Herbert who, as a railway worker, was quite an authority on rail travel
and places to stay. Needless to say we repeated that holiday for several
years to come. It became very hard work when the school reached the time for G.C.E. and later C.S.E examinations with lots of preparatory work, papers &c. to type and duplicate by hand. Well it can't have been too bad as I stayed for 25 years until the school became a junior school, and then I continued as Clerk to the Governors after my retirement. The school catered for boys from eleven years of age - we had good boys, clever boys, not so good boys and those with special needs and I am pleased to say that I cannot remember any of them being rude or cheeky towards me. I hope I didn't scare them all that much. I enjoyed working in an atmosphere of young people and amongst a caring and dedicated staff. I recall some of the absence notes from parents, my favourite being from the mother who kept her son off school because she was pregnant and expecting delivery of a pram! There was also a telephone call when a young voice asked, 'is that you Miss?, well this is my dad speaking and Jack can't come to school today'. When I retired from St.Kevin's I did a six months stint as a secretary at the Probation Office and that really finished my education. We all made our own coffee or tea at break-time and some of the clients were also allowed in to the upstairs kitchen. One of the younger clients was in there and approached me - "Do you remember me Miss.....what did you do to get into trouble?" What indeed? I was sorry to retire from the school and to leave the many friends I made there. I was also sad that the school with all its amenities, the huge building, the workshops, woodwork, metalwork, specialist Art Departments, Biology and Science labs. and extensive playing fields, was to become a Primary School. To me it seemed a waste when there was so much land which could easily have housed a junior school, and there seemed neither rhyme nor reason to be transporting young people past St. Kevin's to down town Secondary schools totally lacking in the facilities and space from which our pupils had benefited. However, in their wisdom the powers that be decided it was to the ultimate good and St. Kevin's became history. My
own two boys progressed well in their school work and pride again
swelled when they both did so well in their G.C.E. examinations and
again at 'A' levels . which gained University places for them. Alan was
to go to Sheffield and Andrew to University College, London. It is hard
to express our feelings at these occasions and Hughie and I were only
sad that our parents had not lived to enjoy the success of their
grandchildren. As with many other parents, that pride in the two of them
lives on today but above all it was in their integrity, their caring way
of life, and eventually their lovely wives and children. In another year or so, it was Andrew's turn, and he and his friend John Moorcroft set off for Turkey in John's mother's Ford Anglia which Mr. Moorcroft had specially adapted for such a journey. They were supposed to be meeting up with John's parents in Italy at some point but I don't think that actually happened. They too were short on funds and picked up some work picking peaches on the Italian border. The next year he and a friend bought a tandem, to which Hughie gave some careful attention, and they set off by train to the Channel and then overland to Turkey. On the return journey, the back wheel of the tandem snapped under the weight of the Lord knows how much weight, luggage and camping items. They put the whole thing on a train and it came back safely to London, only to be stolen, chain and all, from outside the Cycle repair shop near the University. We realised that while it is the given lot for parents to worry about their offspring, the worry when they are children is not to be compared with the worry which comes when they are older. The travel bug must have been contagious because not long after Hughie and I retired , I noticed an advertisement in the paper for a couple plus car to look after 20 or so caravans on a most beautiful site on an estate in the Vendee country in Western France. I applied and that Spring found us enjoying ourselves at Les Biche site, situated in a Pine forest about two miles from the sea. It
was quite hard work initially, setting up the vans, but once that was
accomplished and we were up and running it was mainly receiving new
arrivals, and checking them in and out when leaving. In between these
times and seeing to the supply of gas and attending to odd repair jobs,
we were able to visit the many lovely places in the area. We had a nice
caravan for our own use - there was a lovely swimming pool and many
beautiful beaches around. I loved every minute of it while Hughie
genuinely missed his allotment and the garden at home. Nevertheless he
mostly enjoyed the life and settled in after the first two weeks, making
friends with our visitors and the staff on site. In between these
times and seeing to the supply of gas and attending to odd repair jobs,
we were able to visit the many lovely places in the area. We had a nice
caravan for our own use, there was a lovely swimming pool and many
beautiful beaches around. I loved every minute of it while Hughie
genuinely missed his allotment and the garden at home. Nevertheless he
mostly enjoyed the life and settled in after the first two weeks, making
friends with our visitors and the staff on site. We were very fortunate to be able to take her camping with us for the odd week-end - she was equally happy in sunshine or the rain. She would run along in her little blue wellies, (or were they red?), doing an excellent fruit and nut case walk she had seen done by Morecambe & Wise on television and later on the silly walks of John Cleese. Very sadly, we were very devastated to lose our next grandchild, Alice, who was born with Spina Bifida. Mary and Alan were in deep shock and it was hard to find words to express their feelings. or to give comfort. Then came Thomas, a lovely healthy boy. Caroline stayed with us when Mary went to Hyde Terrace and we had the extreme pleasure in taking Caroline to collect her Mum and new brother from the hospital. She ran along the corridor as soon as they appeared and couldn't contain her excitement. She nursed him, cuddled him and nearly squeezed the life out of him when we returned home. Tom was a very different character to his sister, very strong and determined but lovely with it. He almost worshipped his sister but was not to be bossed. I think Hughie was very proud of Tom and could never see enough of him. He so looked forward to being able to help with baby sitting and all too much to the two of them as if they were grown up. Lilian Dailey (nee Dixon)
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