Oh - the things I have seen!
My old friend Jay tells the story of the Baptist Minister who asked the Episcopal Priest “do you believe in infant baptism?” “Believe in it?” replied the Priest, “dammit, I’ve seen it!”
These are some things I have seen.
At the top of the railway bridge on Devon Rd, by the steps which led down to Colston Rd there was an old gas street lamp and a ‘phone booth.
The lamp was lit each evening, and unlit the next morning by the “lamplighter”. This man would travel by bicycle, carrying a long pole with a hook at one end, and a ladder.
The pole was used to turn the lamp on and off - this was done by inserting the hook into a pivoted metal bar, with rings at each end - a tug on one ring would turn the gas “on”, and on the other would turn it “off”.
The ladder was in case the fragile gas mantle had burned through, in which case the lamplighter would have to climb it to attach a new mantle.
One of my fondest and earliest memories is of seeing the lamplighter, an “endangered species” even when I was a child.
And the ‘phone box. Yes it was one of those old and loved red coloured British boxes. It was coin operated, and local calls cost fourpence, using four big pennies.
First we would pick up the ‘phone to make sure there was a dial tone.
That being so (not always!), we would insert those four pennies and dial the local number. If the person we were calling answered, we would “press button A” and the pennies would drop into the coin box, and the connection would be made. If that person did not answer, we would “press button B” to get our pennies back.
The coin box would also accepted tanners and bobs to be used for long distance calls, always made via the operator.
‘Phone service in the U.K. at that time was a government monopoly operated by “Post Office Telephones” - a branch of the Royal Mail.
Post Office telephones designed these call boxes, and they were also used in Australia and in Germany.
(Once we got through on a local call, the time was unlimited. So we would often have long waits whilst a prior customer, probably a love-sick swain, talked ad infinitum with his girl.)
It was not until 1960 that dad consented to having our own home ‘phone. He had believed that only business folks needed a ‘phone.
When he finally consented, the ‘phone was installed in my name, and my two older sisters and I paid the bill. Our number was “Bristol 51769” [later 551769]
Some of my American friends have told me that they have experienced a “pea-souper” fog in England. Unless they had visited before the late fifties, they had seen no such thing.
Pea-soupers were caused when cold, damp, foggy air descended. Because it was cold, folks would light their coal fires, and the coal smoke would be trapped, and mixed with the fog to make a greenish, yellowish smog.
The most infamous of these pea-soupers was in London in 1952. It lasted for four days. A performance at the Sadlers Wells Theatre had to be abandoned because the audience could not see the stage. 4,00o people died of respiratory illness during those days, and 8,ooo more in the weeks which followed.
This led to various “Clean Air” Acts of Parliament, and the development of “smokeless coals”.
But I remember those pea-soupers in Bristol, and I loved them!
Sometimes I could not see more than 10’ ahead, and to be out and about was all a great adventure. Women or men passengers would walk ahead of their cars, sometimes with torches (flashlights) simply to be able to identify the middle of the road.
And this is “gross” (but as you know I “do gross!), blowing my nose would reveal coal smuts in the “snot”! I hadn’t the slightest idea of how dangerous this was.
Not gross, but lovely as a memory, is Nanny’s milk-man. I think (but cannot be sure about this) that he had a hand-guided electric milk float. This carried big churns of milk. Nanny would cross the street with her porcelain jug, and the milkman, using a dipper, would fill her jug from the churn. Sooner or later the authorities banned this, and insisted that milk be delivered in bottles. That put Nanny’s aging dairyman out of business.
These are some things I have seen.
At the top of the railway bridge on Devon Rd, by the steps which led down to Colston Rd there was an old gas street lamp and a ‘phone booth.
The lamp was lit each evening, and unlit the next morning by the “lamplighter”. This man would travel by bicycle, carrying a long pole with a hook at one end, and a ladder.
The pole was used to turn the lamp on and off - this was done by inserting the hook into a pivoted metal bar, with rings at each end - a tug on one ring would turn the gas “on”, and on the other would turn it “off”.
The ladder was in case the fragile gas mantle had burned through, in which case the lamplighter would have to climb it to attach a new mantle.
One of my fondest and earliest memories is of seeing the lamplighter, an “endangered species” even when I was a child.
And the ‘phone box. Yes it was one of those old and loved red coloured British boxes. It was coin operated, and local calls cost fourpence, using four big pennies.
First we would pick up the ‘phone to make sure there was a dial tone.
That being so (not always!), we would insert those four pennies and dial the local number. If the person we were calling answered, we would “press button A” and the pennies would drop into the coin box, and the connection would be made. If that person did not answer, we would “press button B” to get our pennies back.
The coin box would also accepted tanners and bobs to be used for long distance calls, always made via the operator.
‘Phone service in the U.K. at that time was a government monopoly operated by “Post Office Telephones” - a branch of the Royal Mail.
Post Office telephones designed these call boxes, and they were also used in Australia and in Germany.
(Once we got through on a local call, the time was unlimited. So we would often have long waits whilst a prior customer, probably a love-sick swain, talked ad infinitum with his girl.)
It was not until 1960 that dad consented to having our own home ‘phone. He had believed that only business folks needed a ‘phone.
When he finally consented, the ‘phone was installed in my name, and my two older sisters and I paid the bill. Our number was “Bristol 51769” [later 551769]
Some of my American friends have told me that they have experienced a “pea-souper” fog in England. Unless they had visited before the late fifties, they had seen no such thing.
Pea-soupers were caused when cold, damp, foggy air descended. Because it was cold, folks would light their coal fires, and the coal smoke would be trapped, and mixed with the fog to make a greenish, yellowish smog.
The most infamous of these pea-soupers was in London in 1952. It lasted for four days. A performance at the Sadlers Wells Theatre had to be abandoned because the audience could not see the stage. 4,00o people died of respiratory illness during those days, and 8,ooo more in the weeks which followed.
This led to various “Clean Air” Acts of Parliament, and the development of “smokeless coals”.
But I remember those pea-soupers in Bristol, and I loved them!
Sometimes I could not see more than 10’ ahead, and to be out and about was all a great adventure. Women or men passengers would walk ahead of their cars, sometimes with torches (flashlights) simply to be able to identify the middle of the road.
And this is “gross” (but as you know I “do gross!), blowing my nose would reveal coal smuts in the “snot”! I hadn’t the slightest idea of how dangerous this was.
Not gross, but lovely as a memory, is Nanny’s milk-man. I think (but cannot be sure about this) that he had a hand-guided electric milk float. This carried big churns of milk. Nanny would cross the street with her porcelain jug, and the milkman, using a dipper, would fill her jug from the churn. Sooner or later the authorities banned this, and insisted that milk be delivered in bottles. That put Nanny’s aging dairyman out of business.
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