News, events and discoveries of the Walkley Ways, Walkley Wars history project.
I was brought home from the City General Hospital where I was born on the 22nd day of August in the year 1950.
The house I came home to was one which had seen better days, possibly built in the mid-to late period of the 19th century. One front door, the only entrance and exit to and from the property, the house been of three-story, bedroom, garret and attic, a small living room and of course a cellar.
Memories of a bungalow bath, which was kept in the attic, and at bath days was filled by boiling water in pans and carried upstairs to teem into the bath.
A boiler in the corner of the living room was heated by a gas ring beneath, there was also a ‘black range’ which was a fireplace and oven combined, the heat from the fire was passed to the oven for baking purposes etc. etc.
The house itself was in the first court yard up the street (Grammar St) from the Langsett Road and was opposite Bradley Place, a cobblestone link road from Greaves Street.
When the roads were icy or snowbound the No.88 bus would use this link between the two streets to save the slipping and sliding that ensued up to Bentley’s corner shop and thence round and down Grammar Street. It used to park up outside the courtyard in which I lived, the address incidentally was always 15/1 or 15 Court No.1 house in Grammar Street, leaving one to guess that the start of the courtyards must have begun at the Whitehouse Lane end of lower Walkley.
Memories of people whitening their front doorsteps, the doors at the front of the terraced houses always seemed to be ajar.
Neighbours could be seen carrying a hot meal on a plate covered by a towel – Mrs so & so was poorly so they decided to cook her a meal and visit her to keep her spirits up.
Like most areas we had the odd (singular) person who was disabled, he was called Leonard and stood outside his parents terraced house on the corner of Freedom Street, which joined at the junction of Greaves Street and Grammar Street. He was watched over by the local ‘hardman’ who, if need be, would come to his help when the odd mickey-taker was subjecting Leonard to ridicule and bullying verbally. They were told in no uncertain terms that this was to end – or else !!!
Roger Anthony Kennedy