My father was a J.P. for B'ham. We were brought up in The Dock. Hence
"Tyranny Begins at Home." It did at our house.
You were born in Birkenhead in a long forgotten age. 1899. Later becoming
known as the "Cheshire Cat". Your Father's work took him to Birkenhead
but soon after you were six weeks old and being a typical BRUMMY you
played up till they brought you back to Birmingham. It must have been the
thought of the fish and chips. Nothing eventful passed until you became
school age. They would not take you until you were five years of age
although your mother would have liked to have got rid of you very much
earlier because while you were around, she could not get on with her
knitting, (though crochet was her pet hobby.) Do you remember your first
days at school? Yes I do. You were always grinning (the Cheshire Cat
grin) and singing. Music was your chief delight even in those early days.
At that school -- of tin and iron construction, the heating was
either out of order or non-existent for all the children were placed in
marching order with you at the head and started off with you selecting the
song and leading them in "By the Side of the Zuyder Zee. Riding on Top of
the Car. Following Father's Footsteps." until every child was warmed up.
This was your delight, was it not? Yes it was. The teachers liked it
too. You used to see them smiling -- what a cheeky little bit of
homework, they thought you were. There is no leftover teacher around the
place to speak to about you. We have hunted everywhere for their Gluepot.
Your family used to tease you over your Governesses name -- Gluepot to you!! You stayed there until you were eight years old. Then
You moved to Bearwood. Your Mother thought she had changed still going to
live in B'ham altho it really was Bearwood Smethwick. What she could see
in that, you did not know -- unless it was the soft water and a few free
rides she may be getting in the trams which hadn't been given to O.A.P's
then, anyway. She found Bearwood was in Smethwick and someday it will be in
Warley but you don't think she knew that then. You moved about in
Smethwick 3 houses about a couple of ticks away from each other. Perhaps
your mother was trying to hop over the border into BRUM. Geography was
not her best subject. She was a fish and chip Brummy too.
You now come up to 1914 - 1st World War. You had gone off to Dugmore's
Waterloo Road to buy a long "Where Irish Eyes Are Smiling" instead of
Getting Your Spates on to go to the War. Your Uncle A. Perks called just
then to say The War was in full swing. You had been attending G.D.
Secondary School by then, your parents hoped you would become a school
teacher. You had other thoughts -- and Bob's your Uncle. You left to go
to work. Your first job was errand girl at a Printers. This was a
smashing job for you -- getting food ready, making peas, operating the
lift -- altogether a good general up and down education -- we don't think.
You daily visited Small shops for 19 quarters(?) of hock - at 2 pence a
quarter. 14 packets of fish and chips, 2 pence pork pies, all the hungry
wolves at the factory made a snatch and grab raid on the goods. You used
to visit a little Coffee shop at the corner of Hill St and Statun
Street. Do you remember what the owner called you. When you told your
Mother, she wanted to go and punch his nose. Yes! It was Beccy Sharp. You
had hard work to keep your mother away, but luckily she believed you when
you told her he only meant you were quick on the uptake. After gaining all
that valuable Catering knowledge you decided to leave the Printers. Do
you remember why? -- yes! Because you were promised an office job in the
first place, but there was no vacancy at the time. Another girl (whom you
thought was dozey) had a very long plait of hair which hung down her back
and in a mad moment let it get into a machine of great power. However,
she was lucky the plait didn't cause the whole scalp to come off (like
some other girls had done). It was just sufficient to get her promoted to
the office. You thought she was slow. She appeared simple to you, but
she knew her onions (not fish and chips). You had had commercial training
at College in Cannon St -- Shorthand typewriting. You
got one of two office jobs, then went into your Father's office. Now
living with your parents may be tolerated, but to work as well wasn't your
cup of tea. You were always mad about music -- opera, etc. When you
worked in John Bright St. there was a music shop under the building you
worked in. You had the audacity to call on the Chief (Mr. W. Scott) and
convince him to let you come and work in his piano shop to play the piano
and sing the songs to advertise and sell them. He said he could see no
future in that and left you flat. You knew you were a hopeless shorthand
typist (Secretary la-de-da today). You could do shorthand at 60 miles an
hour but you could not read a stitch back, so you determined to get out of
that line. Like "Topsy" in Uncle Tom's Cabin, You just "growed" but not
tall enough. You went to the G.P.O. Telephones. They put you up against
the wall as if to shoot and when measured you were 4' 11" instead of 5
feet. They thought you wanted a job repairing the roofs. I think
anyway they threw you out. Later on you were working at the Ministry of
Food -- Margaret St. B'ham, altho' still in the typing racket -- Enquiry
and opening post job came along, jumped at this always liking a job
dealing with the Public. One man wrote, once, please send my Ration Book.
My waist is like a wasp's. I am shrinking visibly, another butcher wrote.
Please transfer this woman to another butcher -- every time she comes to
my shop she threatens me with a chopper. Then a telephone vacancy arose
-- you nipped into that and thought that at least you had got into Opera
as good as I could use your voice now having been called by school
teachers the "little girl with the big voice." The end of the "War to End
Wars" came on Nov 11, 1918 at 11 a.m. All the office Workers ran out into
Victoria Square without permission. Then you were allowed to come and go
but keep the post open periodically. You went home to lunch and upon
return jollification had set in everywhere. There was a musical
comedy running at the Theatre Royal called "Yes Uncle". Do you remember
going to the evening performance with 2 older married women members of the
staff without going home to tell your Mother first? You were only 18!!
and had been home mid-day so you thought it was quite in order to do this.
You had another think coming to you. Your mother was doing the Norman
Invasion(?) -- hanging over the gate. You think you saw the rolling pin.
It was only 10-15 p.m. to 10-30.pm. It couldn't have been worse for you.
You knew you were the only person who was flattened out on the wonderful
Armistice Day Nov 11, 1918. It was the best day for 4 years for many
people, but not you. You were family-bound (not - 'ARF') always!! After
that date the work at the Food Office began to get less, the staff
gradually went to other jobs. You're now a full blown telephone operator
(Telephonist wasn't used then). Event to the Midland "Red". That seemed
at first sight a meek and mild dump which the other office girl said "You
won't be here a week," how wrong she was. You stayed for nearly 20 years.
You became known all over the Midlands as the "Lass with the DELLY-CUT
HAIR -- Delicate Air. You were "BOBB" by then. Besides liking music, you
had always loved animals, particularly cats and dogs. Cats, we suppose,
being one yourself from Cheshire. Your Father didn't like dogs or thought
he didn't. I fancy he liked horses as he was always stopping runaway
horses. Also he couldn't sing for toffee, but he would have a bash at
"The Arab's Steed." He came to like dogs however, for when at last your
Mother said "Bring a dog then. He'll get used to it" -- he did. One day
you said to him, "You will like him when he does funny tricks." He said --
"He's just done one over there" I had to clean it up! This broke the
sound barrier. He fished up carrying that little pug, assisted by you in
a shopping basket on holiday at Blackpool. Another instance, he was
driving in his pram-like Austin about 1925 when along Coventry Rd into
City large dogs sat in his path in the road. He pulled up, promptly got
out and raised his hat to the dogs, asking them to please move. They
slowly moved away to allow clear passage. Into the driving seat your
Father got and away. This would cause a howling sensation on the MI's
today (especially in a fog). They wouldn't let me have a horse and I
wanted a small creature I could pick up and take upstairs with me so a
horse was out of the question. Besides we could afford carpet on the
stairs by this time. Your pet must be a pug dog, you said, which you had
come in contact with before the Mid "Red" days. By a strange coincidence
your boss's wife (Mrs. E. Power) was a well known breeder of your
favourite type of dog. You wasted no time at all making yourself known to
her and arranging to buy a beautiful little black pug, but by lack of
experience something went wrong and your pet died at 3 months old, a
tragedy to all the family. Not to be done, you had another pet, Fawn, this
time which lived until 15 years of age. Your Father and yourself carried
him in a shopping bag at Blackpool when he was very old.
In 1937, your Father had been left like Baron Hardup (in Cinderella's
Dad) with 2 handsome daughters both at jobs by day and house managers by
night so as he needed a housekeeper you were chosen to be the home help
and Sally Snipe. You let the Telephone go on ringing. You all had a
brain wave -- why not all club together and buy some property to eke out
the income. This you did in 1938 and in 1939 the "War to End Wars" was
forgotten and a 2nd "War to End Wars" was with us and then the houses began
to be knocked down like ninepins. This went on until War 2 ended. There
had not been a penny increase in rent all though the years. By now you
had settled on a [real estate] agent friend to collect the rents. You
refused to go yourself ever again in spite of Father's bullying.
Gradually your income dwindled until one quarter you came 9 pounds in the
Red, then 29 pounds and so on until 97 pounds was the total in the Red.
The Govt saw something must be done, so they passed the 1954 Rent Act which
allowed the Landlord a small increase at 2 varying periods, but this was
not given for the Landlord to have herself a good fling! It was to spend
on the property (How's your father!). This increase was also totalled up
and called excess rent and highly taxed, so the poor old landlord lost a
bit there, a rob Peter to pay Paul System. Then the Council,(Labour
Controlled) had a brainy idea of getting property for nothing. They
decided to take over by Compulsory Purchase they called it. They grabbed,
let, take the rent at once, without by your leave then kept the Landlord
waiting for (about 2) years without rent or settlement. When you
remonstrate with them, they say they have spent more on the property than
would have been collected in rent. You answer with one word -- why? They
are due for demolition we understood. (They spend money and our money at
that too quick then). Quite a backhand and underhand way of doing
business. You tried by hook or by crook to get justice for yourselves but
without success.
So now you may have to go back to catering at the Printers or ask for a
job on tablehand department or even try to trace the owners of the Coffee
Shop who used to say, "Beccy Sharp Kesterton" "This is your life" or
"Tyranny begins at home".