and coal pushed up the road in a wheelbarrow. Then followed the endless dusting with a dustpan and brush, bed-making, mending and knitting. Hilda went about these chores with her old apron tied around her waist and a cloth covering her hair.
Washdays meant boiling water on the gas stove before carrying it into the yard, where she washed and mangled sheets, clothes and nappies. Depending on the weather, these were hung out to dry either in the yard or in front of the fireplace, although they were always tidied away from view if Hilda received a visitor.
This is the backdrop to Ted’s growing up.
A lot was expected of everyone and life wasn’t comfortable compared to today’s standards, especially when the other children – Mary, Jane, John, Chris, Marilyn, Joyce, Malcolm, Gerry and Karen – arrived. Hilda and Maurice slept in the tiny single bedroom at the back. The girls took the second smaller bedroom and the boys top-to-tailed in the larger master bedroom. Ted, being the eldest, had the single bed, while the rest of the boys slept in the two double beds. Each bedroom had a small window covered with Hilda’s handmade curtains, and minimal furniture to make the most of the space. There were extra blankets for the really cold winter nights – not that they were often needed with everyone crammed side by side in the tiny rooms.
By modern standards, the house was cluttered – not in the sense that it was untidy or uncared for, but simply due to the number of young kids running about. The front door was always open, with Hilda’s neighbours and friends either popping by to say hello or catch up on the local gossip.
Bedtime could often be chaos, with Hilda dealing with the girls and then impatiently shouting the boys up to their room. Once everyone was in bed, she would close the door and the boys would be quiet until she went downstairs. The minute they heard the front-room door shut and knew the coast was clear, there would be a scramble for an extra jumper for warmth or a spare coat to use as a pillow.
It was often said that Ted was blessed with his father’s caring nature, and growing up in such a tight-knit family meant that from an early age he developed a strong sense of responsibility towards the family. Some of Ted’s earliest memories were of watching his father get ready for work every morning, and perhaps, on some level, the importance of providing for your family was impressed on him from a young age.
There were no holidays and very little spare money for treats, apart from on Sundays when Maurice would bring back a bag of sweets for the kids. Although Ted’s early years were hand-to-mouth, they were also spent finding fun outdoors. Come rain or shine, he and his friends could uncover adventure right on their doorstep. Behind the house outside the back garden was the Bluebell Wood. It had two ponds and was teeming with wildlife. Walking through the wood took you to the old sewage beds, where the treated sewage was dumped and in the summer months methane would heat up the ground and steam pour out. It was a very particular and overwhelming smell that could linger for a long time, often clinging to the hair and clothes of those who walked near it. Further on there were football pitches and ‘The Jungle’ – overgrown land full of silver birch trees. Ted, his siblings and friends from the estate would often play on this land in the summer, building dens, making mischief and hiding out. It would be the first place that Hilda would look when calling the children for their tea, coaxing them in with promises they could return as soon as it was light the next day – they would have slept there all night if they could.
In those pre-television days, the young Ted was fascinated by nature. This was something encouraged by Hilda, particularly if he took some of his younger brothers and sisters outside with him to give her some peace and quiet. Hilda liked that Ted could sense she had more than enough to worry about with the feeding and raising of so many children and, as a result, he soon developed a fantastic knack of knowing when to disappear. As a young child, Hilda would often give the young Ted a spare slice of bread, telling him to go and sit in the garden and whistle for the birds to come. Sitting there, on the low stone wall, the birds would slowly but surely fly down out of the trees, pecking up the bread that Ted had scattered around him. If he didn’t have school, Ted could sit there for hours waiting to feed those birds.
Although life had a quiet pace, there were plenty of local characters around to provide drama – the main culprit being the local farmer, Mr Rumble, who owned Grumbles Farm. It was surrounded by cornfields, with small barns full of chickens and some pigs. All the neighbourhood kids were scared of Rumble – or Grumble as he became known – and they dared each other to get anywhere near the farm. There were lots of rumours that Mr Rumble didn’t like children, especially those who trespassed on his land. He would chase any intruders away, no matter what their age, cursing and swearing as much as he could.
At the back of the farm ran the railway marshalling yard. Hundreds of steam trains would park there overnight, and coal, which was being mined in the local pits, would be shipped around the country from the yard, while metals and goods that had been made at the factories nearby would be held in huge stores waiting to be transported. It was at the yard that all the big steam engines were repaired before they went back into service, and the railway line that passed through the town was the link connecting Wednesbury to the rest of the country – from Crewe further north to London down south. You could smell the oil before even setting foot in the yard – it was always in the air whatever time of year, but the scent was even stronger in the summer heat. All the carriage repairs took place at night and the tinkering of machinery and testing of engines could be heard long after the residents nearby had gone to bed. It became the reassuring sound that signalled bedtime for Ted and his brothers and sisters.
Maurice was close to all of his children, but he also worked long days, accepting all the work he was offered so that he could bring home as much extra cash as possible. It was Hilda who ran the household. Every Friday, Maurice would bring home a small brown envelope containing his wages and Hilda would take out what she needed to keep the house going, giving him back whatever was left for spending money that week. Maurice wasn’t a big drinker, but he’d often let off steam down the local pubs, getting up and singing whenever he could.
Much of the manual work came from the two huge factories that were the epicentre of manufacturing around Friar Park – Elwell’s and the Deritend. Elwell’s made gardening tools and The Deritend Stamping Company was the forge where Maurice worked, which dated back to 1900. Its creation meant lots of jobs for men like Maurice, who lived locally, but there were also a number of people needing a wage who travelled in from across Wednesbury to work in such a steady environment. It was hard graft, but it was a company known for a dedicated work force, long hours and a strong team spirit. Throughout the day, each time the hammers dropped, the boom could be heard right across Friar Park.
Every Christmas there was a party for all the kids and, when Ted was 5 years old, Hilda took him down to the club to join in the festivities. It was the first time he’d been to such a big party, and Hilda had sewn him a smart suit especially for the occasion. When they got there the room was full of young children running around; Christmas decorations brightened up the usually bleak, grey room and there were tables heaped with sandwiches, cakes and trifles. For Ted, this was heaven and he immediately found a small gang of kids to play with.
‘Our Maurice will pick him up at five,’ said Hilda to some of the women who’d been brought in from the factory floor to organize the party.
‘Behave yourself, Ted,’ she shouted as she left the room.
The whole afternoon went brilliantly. It was something that Ted would remember all his life. There were traditional party games like pass the parcel, musical chairs and pin the tail on the donkey, a visit from Father Christmas, and enough sweets and trifle to sink a ship. At 5 p.m., just after clocking off from work, Maurice picked Ted up from the party. The young boy was tired out, so Maurice carried him all the way home.
As soon as he got through the front door at Kent Road, Ted woke up. ‘It was brilliant, Mom!’ he said the minute his eyes opened, and he went on to excitedly talk about the afternoon he’d had, sparing no detail. Soon after teatime, Ted was fast asleep again, so Hilda carried him upstairs, helped him out of his clothes and tucked him into bed. He was asleep the minute his head hit the pillow and Hilda carried his suit down to the kitchen, ready to wash it. She did the usual check of his pockets.
‘What