PLAYING OUT PART ONE

[Stanley]

PLAYING OUT 01

I don't know about you lot but when I was a lad, if I had any spare time and the weather was half decent I used to go outside find my mates and we'd set off to have a play out. None of this vanishing into the bedroom to play games or surf the web on the computer, the only electronic gadget in the house was a wireless. Looking back we were a wild lot, we used to get out into the surrounding fields and climb trees, build dens and dam small streams. One of our favourite spots was a flooded quarry near the works of Hans Renolds the chain makers at Burnage near West Didsbury, about two miles away. Looking back, this was an incredibly dangerous place full of steep slippery slopes down to very deep holes filled with water. Even in those days my mother would have never let me near it had she known. Funnily enough, even though it was nearby we never spent time on the banks of the River Mersey because in those days it was heavily polluted and smelt to high heaven especially in warm weather.
During the summer holidays we had lots of time but also a bit of a constraint on us because during the war years schools organised working parties of children to go out and do things like collecting hips and haws which were a major source of Vitamin C. I think our product went to the people who made Rose Hip Syrup, a universal tonic then. However, if we weren't roped in for this there was plenty of time for serious expeditions. Our mothers would give us a good breakfast, stuff a butty in our pocket and send us off knowing that the only thing that would get us back was either bad weather or imminent tea-time. We always came home to be fed!
With hindsight I can see now that this was an ideal childhood. We weren't rebels we were being given the freedom to roam and I can't remember any of us coming to harm except for the occasional cut or scratch. Mind you, I can remember being very poorly once after a glorious afternoon catching newts in a stagnant pond, I have an idea I picked up a bug there but no doubt even that was good for my immune system. All that playing and exercise in the open air meant that we grew up to be tough little beggars and I am sure it did us more good than playing computer games in our bedrooms.
I think this phase lasted until I was about eleven years old and went to Grammar School, after that my play in leisure time changed to more organised pursuits like cycling or, if the weather was bad, playing indoors with my large Meccano set. Playing out in the evenings wasn't possible as I had too much homework. Less spontaneous and safer! As I grew older my play changed yet again....



One of the first Meccano models I ever built.

[Tizer]

All that sounds very familiar, except for me it was just after the war. We lived in a small group of council houses on the edge of Blackburn with terraced houses as far as the eye could see to one side and green fields and trees as far as the eye could see to the other. A few hundred yards away were a mill, a brickworks, numerous small, abandoned quarries filled with water and one very big one also filled with water, which we were always told was `bottomless'. In front of the mill was open ground, formerly a landfill site, where the mill burnt a lot of waste. So we had fun with fire, deep water and rocky slopes. Lots of stuff still got dumped there, including chimneysweeps' soot and general rubbish from people clearing out houses. Great fun for kids!

[Moh]

Familiar to me too - I remember collecting rose hips, we took them to school where we had a chart that was marked with the weight of the hips until eventually it was full. We also roamed all over Kelbrook moors and Harden Cloughs where we picnicked, collected wild flowers & paddled in the stream. The beck that runs through Kelbrook was another playground - you were not a true Kelbrooker until you had fallen in the beck! We also played hide & seek and Tin in the Ring on the bridge in the village. Good days that cost nothing and gave us plenty of fresh air.

[chinatyke]

Me too. I grew up in Colne from 1950 onwards. We went to the brickworks quarry at the top of Knotts Lane and "laiked" about there. We used to climb incredibly steep shale and clay slopes and wonder how my mum always used to know we had been "playing in quarry again". And then there was making dens from railway sleepers near the train sheds at Primet. We also used to go 'bike rides', usually all day long, to places like Malham, West Marton, Settle, Gargrave, Grassington, Haworth and Barley. There was no suggestion that this was a dangerous thing to do and if your bike broke some kind person would stop to help or check you were ok. It was safe in those days and also much less traffic.
We also collected rose hips but to my knowledge we never actually sold any. It was one of those mysterious things that was common knowledge you could get a bob a pound but nobody knew where to take them. Then there were the days playing with our trolleys that we built from old pram wheels, usually wrecking them again by teatime.

[Stanley]

Always nice to see I have written a piece that rings bells.....

[Nolic]

Absolutely Comrade. Playing out with mates was my big thing until fishing came along in my early teens. We always encouraged Cha and Dan to play out and they both have a healthy sense of being streetwise as a result. Dan was always one for pushing boundaries though and he would always be a few minutes later home than the specified time. A minor reduction in pocket money seemed effective but one day he was genuinely late as the chain came off his bike and he struggled getting it back on. . He tried this again a couple of days later and it took him a while to work out how we knew he was telling porkies - his hands were clear of oil!! Todays parents who don't let their kids out of their sight are doing them no favours. Learning how to be independent within safe boundaries is a good way of safeguarding young people from what lies out there. Nolic

[Stanley]

One of the things that strikes me these days is hearing of the number of kids who say they are 'bored' and demand entertaining. This is a quick route to the screen, the electronic game and this is quickly followed by complaints from parents about the amount of time they are sequestered in their bedrooms and out of parental control in terms of what they are doing. I can't remember ever being at a loss what to do to pass the time for more than a short interval. I either thought of something or my mates dragged me out of it and away across the fields!
Is the environment really so dangerous these days in a town with easy access to open country? I can understand it in a big urban situation but in Barlick? Or is it that parents now are concerned about attaining 100% 'safety' and in the process inhibiting their children from risk-taking. I often wonder whether the modern practice of seeking adrenalin rushes on 'white knuckle' rides or in extreme sports is the natural product of this nannying. Probably far more dangerous that playing in quarries.....

[Cathy]

A few years ago I knew a family that had a video player in the back seat section of their car so their kids didn't get bored.
Are people worried about keeping up with the Jones's or are they the Jones's? Maybe the parents are too busy on their own electronic gadgets to talk with the kids.

[PanBiker]

I think you need to be over 50 years old to relate fully to this. About 40 years ago is when the paranoia seemed to set in with the majority of parents, this in turn seemed to spurn the mass school run where kids are no longer allowed to walk to school on the off chance that they get knocked down or stolen. The world has gone mad really particularly if you apply this paranoia and madness to a place like Barlick.

Our local adventure playground was the area that is now grassed and is the Bank Street play area. This was former allotment and hen pen land before Valley Road was extended through to Long Ing. The former compressed earth and cinder path that was the only route through there had some belting noggins for playing marbles. The area up to Bank Street was just rough ground once the pens had gone but it did have three large 60ft trees, all of which had to be climbed until you could poke your head out of the top. We used to have races to see who could get to the top first. We always seemed to have a fire going, something lads are particularly good at and quite handy if you could cadge a few spuds to roast. The territory extended down into Wellhouse mill yard and the garages down there. The area in front of where Gissings is now was referred to as "the flat part" and was used for kickabout's we had goals painted on the roller shutter and a set of wickets chalked on the wall to the left of the door. Mill dam was good fun and the goldfish a constant quest for capture by any means.

The right to roam was a given and never considered risky by my parents. When very small I had been taken walking on Sundays and over the years had learnt all the paths and features of the local landscape. My dad showed me how to catch fish with my hands and later on my brother let me into the secrets of where all the best holes were in the local becks. Out dawn till dusk was the norm, certainly during school holidays, bikes took the boundaries even further afield and forays out to Bolton Abbey, Malham, Pendle and the Ribble Valley helped to spread our wings. Fishing, girls and motor bikes took over in my mid teens but by then I was fully street and field trained and ready to take on the world.

[Tizer]

I think I mentioned elsewhere about the couple we saw recently on a beach in Cornwall, sitting staring at their smartphones while the two young kids struggled to find something to do beside them.

[Stanley]

Ian is probably right about having to be at least 50 years old to understand this thread. While I was reading his post it struck me that when we walked to school we collected shrapnel from the Ack Ack rounds that exploded far above us. I walked into school one morning staggering under the weight of a full clip of what must have been 20mm explosive cannon shells which must have dropped from a German plane. That got the teacher's attention! I think that compared to these dangers (and the 1000lb landmines that they dropped on us during the night) minor matters like road safety didn't compute in our parent's brains. We had skills that today's kids couldn't imagine. We could identify friendly planes as opposed to the Jerries and knew the difference between explosion noises. We could identify Bofors, 3.7 and 4.7 Ack Ack, bomb explosions and incendiaries. Having survived, I'm glad I was there....

[mball]

October and November where particular fun months in our calendar because it was preparation for mischief night and bonfire night. Mischief Night would just be tying dustbin lids to peoples door handles and knocking at the door, none of this trick or treat that kids do today. Before bonfire night it would be the Guy Fawkes, we would make our Guys and put them in an old pram or make a cart with wooden orange boxes and pram wheels, then we would go up town and round the houses asking for “Penny for the Guy” and in them days it really was a penny.

We used to go all over the town looking for stuff to put on the bonfire or go up to the humpty dumties to collect wood (Chubbin). We would make whips out of old leather loom straps from the mill with a boot lace on the end to produce a whipping sound. We would also use the whips to tow the logs of wood through town to the bonfire.

All parts of the town had their own bonfire and had names; ours was “The Cornmillers” because the bonfire was built in a clearing near the Corn Mill. Opposite this, across the beck was the Chinkies or China Town (don't know why it was called that to this day). There was much rivalry and we always used to put guards on the bonfire until it was time to go home to bed in case the Chinkies tried to steal anything or set fire to our bonfire. Some people would go chubbing and others would stay behind guarding the bonfire. Guarding the bonfire was good fun because we would light a small fire near to the bonfire and keep warm by sitting round it on the furniture we had collected for the fire, telling ghost stories and baking potatoes in the embers.

Happy days!!

[PanBiker]

Ey up Malc, nice to see you posting again. We had our bonfire on the plot mentioned above. Our chubbin's were distributed around the garage site down Wellhouse for relative safe keeping before the big day. Chinkies and Cormillers well known by our crew, enemies at the gate as such as no doubt we were to you. All good youthful fun, the warning tales told round the campfire to younger members of our crew regarding rival groups or gangs always exaggerated for more dramatic effect. I bet it was the same with the Cormillers and Chinks. You can't beat a tatie done in the embers.

[mball]

They really were the good old days, things were much simpler and outdoors all the time. Then as you say it was the girls, bikes seven stars and railway tap room. Pie and peas, a pint or two and a game of pool.

[Stanley]

That bit about guarding fires reminds me of when I gave a bloke at Cowan Bridge mental home a box of matches, I thought he was the groundsman. Turned out he was an inmate and he went round lighting all the bonfires. Caused a riot and I was stuck in the kitchen for half an hour while they sorted everything out. I never told them it was me.....

[Stanley]

Bumped and image restored.

[Gloria]

Interesting, I can relate to a lot of this.

[Stanley]

Thanks Gloria....

[Stanley]

This one really caught people's imagination....... Bumped again.

[Stanley]

A good thread that caught a lot of attention.