Growing Up in North Worksop

The saying ‘the past is another country’ by the novelist L P Hartley is very true when looking at the tremendous physical and social changes within living memory of growing up in North Worksop. In post war Britain most children left school at the age of fifteen without needing qualifications for a good range of jobs in the area. Going to university or college at the age of eighteen, now the reality for over half our young people, would have seemed an impossible dream for most. Here are some stories that highlight those changes:

Jean and Pat were born at the Ashley Grove Nursing Home which is now the Ashley pub. For others birth was at home with a midwife attending, and often the support of family and neighbours. Lynn knows that she was born at home on Dawber Street in a snowstorm:

“My Dad was sent down to the phone box on Gateford Road to call the midwife, but the ladies on the street were sure that I would be born before the midwife arrived. The cot and other equipment had been laid away at the baby shop so one of the neighbours pulled out a drawer in the bedroom and made it into a temporary cot where I spent my first night.”

Among the local schools attended were the two church schools: St John’s Boys on Dock Road and St John’s Girls on Eastgate. Neither are still standing – the new St John’s School is now on Raymoth Lane, but when the extension to the John’s church hall was built in 1976/77 some of the stone from the boys’ school was used in the building.

Sylvia describes how:

“One part of the old St John’s Girls still had earth toilets with wooden seats. On Ascension Day we would walk to church in a long crocodile. The highlight of that was having the afternoon off. When I came back to St John’s years later with my daughter I walked straight up to the front and sat there, as I had done for the school services. Now I know nobody sits at the front!”

Glen has happy memories of being taken with a few other boys by the headmaster of the St John’s Boys to his home in Clumber where he bred the famous Clumber Spaniels. Andrew recalls doing PE in the playground at the boys’ school and football on the field behind the Carlton Tavern. There was fierce competition between the four houses – Foljambe, Jackson, Seton and Blick.

Others like June attended Stanley Street, now Norbridge or like Ben, Crown Street, now Redlands. Ben recollects crying on the first day at school – such a shock after being at home for five years – no nurseries or play groups then. School trips to Eyam and York were highlights, with the inevitable child being travel sick on the bus. Ben had a line to say in the Christmas play – “over the snowy hills”. The teacher eventually accepted he’d never manage the h in hills, so changed the line to “over the snowy mountains.” Nerves took over in the performance and instead of mountains out came “snowy ‘ills”!

Jean and Linda went to Sir Edmund Hillary in the mid-fifties when it opened. Pat went to a small private school called Miss Houghton’s which was in a private house on Carlton Road where Turner Road is now. She missed a lot of schooling because she caught the dreaded polio when she was six and spent months in Lodge Moor Hospital in Sheffield. Her mum described how the public health inspector came and ordered the whole house, including the drains, to be disinfected.

Up till 1962 every child who passed the 11plus went to grammar school in Retford but in 1962 Henry Hartland Grammar School was opened on Sparken Hill in Worksop. Pauline was one of the first intake there. In 1970 all the secondary schools in Worksop became comprehensive. The Bentinck, which had previously been the Secondary Modern School, now became Valley Comprehensive.

Looking back to the days without computer screens, this seemed a more innocent time where children could play outside freely being summoned only when it was time for tea or bed.

June grew up on James Street, just north of the railway.

“That area was very different then -where Turner Road is now, was an area we called “The Tip” - there were several companies there, as well as a gypsy caravan. Opposite the tech on Carlton Road were sand banks where we all played a lot. Backing onto Stanley Street School and Anston Avenue were old allotments left over from wartime. A strong childhood memory is of going frequently to the outdoor swimming baths at the Canch. We mustn’t have felt the cold. There was a lot less traffic, but it was still a challenge riding my bike into town to the fish shop and crossing Victoria Square before it had traffic lights.”

Ben remembers growing up on John Street, watching the quarry – now Godfreys Pond (Sandhill Lake) being excavated where his Dad’s and others’ allotments were.

“They hit an underground spring and so a pump house was put in. A stream ran up to it and that’s where the kids played and learnt to swim.”

The only traffic he remembers on John Street was the lorry delivering free coal to the miners’ houses, the milk float and the horse and cart selling bread.

Many of those who have shared memories with us were teenagers in the late fifties and sixties. June and Margaret recall Saturday afternoons at the Palais de Dance, which was open to young teens from thirteen to sixteen.

Sylvia remembers proper ballroom dancing at the Palais:

“But times were changing, and, in the interval, they put on the Juke Box, and we jived!”

The Palais was where many folk met their future spouses.

Coffee bars came on the scene in the sixties, and many remember Bernardino’s on Carlton Road, now a Barber’s. June remembers:

“They had a Juke Box and you got five records for one shilling.”

The youth club at St John’s Church was very popular, Jean describes:

“We used to meet on a Friday night and also after church on a Sunday evening. We really enjoyed it as it was lots of fun. I met my husband, Ian, there.”

For others their working life began at 15, or even earlier with paper rounds and Saturday jobs. They quickly became part of the adult world centring on the local pub, playing in and supporting local football teams, and going to the dog track on Claylands.

Over the last months since this website was launched more people have brought their stories to us….

Jean who was born at home on John Street, remembers a happy childhood, playing outside in the street, her backyard, (shared by four houses) or like Ben, on Godfrey’s Pond and the sand quarry.

“A favourite game of ours was marbles, we used to roll them in the gutter from the top of the hill to the bottom of the street. One particularly bad winter I remember all the mums clearing the snow from the pavements and piling it in the gutter. We all then made bridges from the snow and ice for the marbles to roll under. The snow seemed to last for ages that winter, (does anyone remember which winter of the fifties that was?), my Dad cut ice out of the pond and we built an igloo in our back yard which was very popular! Indeed, a lot of children used to use our passageway as a short cut to the pond. - my Dad even made a sign and stuck it on our wall at the bottom of the passage saying, ‘This way to the seaside!’

Jean’s memories of her first day at Crown Street school were like Ben’s not so happy.

“I didn’t have a good start. My mum took me and my older sister together to school. My sister ran off as soon as we were in the school yard leaving me standing alone by the wall, looking for any friends. Suddenly I felt a strange crawling on my head and ear - an earwig was just about to crawl into my ear! I started crying, the teacher came over to see me and wouldn’t believe me! Another bad memory was having to drink milk at break time. I was always very slow and hated being left in the classroom on my own - it was even worse in winter when the milk was frozen and had to be thawed out on the radiators.

My worst moment was when one of the boys who had collected a ball of fluff he had picked off the woollen jumper of the child in front decided to dip it in his inkwell. He threw it straight at my face and I then had a bright blue mark on my cheek - the teacher made me stand at the front as a punishment.” (Presumably, he didn’t own up!)

Many parents were very ambitious for their children to get a good education, and to aspire to work in places other than the pit or in factories. Betty, who was one of eight, remembers her mother being an avid reader and listening to the news on the radio.

“A usual evening was to sit around the table being tested on spellings, general knowledge, capitals of countries and current politicians. Mum would read to us, and I remember her reading “Heidi” and even my Dad being in tears. Two of us girls became nurses, and my other sister became a secretary.’”

Betty continued to study into her adult life as many did and eventually became a health visitor.

A lot of Worksop children have warm and sometimes chilly memories of the open-air swimming baths at the Canch. Christine’s father, like his father before him, was the Bath Superintendent and they lived in the house adjoining the baths. She remembers how after the early morning swim sessions on Sunday morning they did the big clean.

“My Dad and couple of assistants would scoop out all the leaves with long handled nets, then scrub the bottom of the pool with long handled brushes, then on their hands and knees, with knee pads on, they would scrub the upper inside of the pool. Finally, the changing cabins would be swilled out. We were then allowed to have a swim. My father was very strict, and my brothers and I were only allowed to play after we had done some serious swimming - paying attention to our strokes. I was able to swim by the age of 3 and at the annual swimming gala I was the free style swimming champion for 5 years. Our house had quite a lot of land which formed an orchard at the back adjoining the park. We had 4 pear, 2 apple and 1 plum tree as well as gooseberry and blackberry bushes. Scrumpers were quite a regular occurrence, so my mum kept a bucket of water handy! My father was the final superintendent prior to the baths being closed down.”

They had been a very important part of Worksop life every summer from May to October.

George grew up behind a sweet shop on Carlton Road. He remembers,

“It was lovely when the circus came to town, and we went out onto Carlton Road to watch the elephants walk down from the station to the Rec opposite the Canch. We then moved to Kilton Road, and I went to Newcastle Street School. One our walk to school we would pass the sheep being walked to the Cattle Market on Wednesdays. In winter, when it was icy, we would walk across where Morrisons is now to slide cross the frozen canal.”

Growing Up in North Worksop

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