My parents lived in Roydene Rd. , Plumstead, my first memory, I was about 2 yrs. old, was walking, or being carried,by my aunt Marge, who apparently, had been looking after me for some length of time, because my mum, Rube,had been ill in hospital.As we approached the house, Rube was waiting, standing the other side of the wooden front gate. I remember Marge handing me over the gate to Rube. I burst into tears, thinking my “mum” was giving me away,Marge turned & walked away crying. Rube said to me ,” go upstairs and see what daddy’s doing”. The landing hallway had pink walls, and my dad,Harry, had a tin of silver paint, and was stubbing the brush on the walls to make small blotch type marks.
Later memories, I was about 6 or 7, at the top of the stairs was the box room, various junk was stored there, including an HMV wind up gramaphone, with large pull out horn, the only record I remember was, “heading for the last round up, to the faraway …….in the blue blue sky” My brother, some three years older, & I, shared a double bed. One night,my brother,Keith, was winding me up, I was wingeing, as usual,from the bottom of the stairs,dad’s voice shouted up,”now then laddoes, thats enough”,we continued,next thing ,dad came storming up the stairs,grabbed from the boxroom A 6 FT, flintlock rifle, my brother had aquired from “somwhere”. Dad entered our bedroom ,raised the rifle above his head, & proceeded to smash it down into the bed, trying to hit our legs. Keith & I ,kept opening then moving our legs to avoid the blows. After it was over, Harry returned downstairs, and I think Keith & I were chuckling, Harry did have a bit of a temper.
Every year, leading up to firework night, us kids along with the gang Malcolm & Dennis Hopper, and their younger brother, would visit a wooden shop, at the top of Lakedale Rd, Plumstead, to buy fireworks. don’t think anyone was over nine years old, in those days no one bothered. The fireworks we bought, were mostly, penny bangers, Little Imps. The trick was, light the fuse, count to three, then throw it at whoever was nearest, think I started wearing mits, scared of it going off in my hand. A later time, Keith had made a small cannon on the school lathes. It was about four inches long, had the the shape of what you would see on a buccaneers sailing ship. This particular day, Keith & I, walked to the top of our street, onto Plumstesd Common. Keith had filled the cannon with gunpowder, from a firework, he had jammed a bolt in the end of the cannon, to act as the cannon ball, he had jetex fuse in the hole at the top of the cannon, this was to ignite the gunpowder subsequently firing the bolt.In those days the commons were patrolled by Park Keepers, in their brown uniforms, brown hat, brown leather knee boots.As Keith lit the fuse, this Park Keeper appeared, unaware of what he was approaching, he was walking directly in the line of fire, towards the spot where Keith had been kneeling to place & light the fuse. Luckily. it did’nt fire, the Keeper picked it up, marched us home ,after speaking to Rube & Harry, he said he was confiscating the cannon, and no further action would be taken. Another time a house at the bottom of our road, the screed was coming away from the brickwork on their front wall, Keith filled it with gunpowder, and blew it off. Leading off the top of Roydene Rd. , was Tormount Rd.. this was about 3/4 of a mile long, steep sloping, curving, hill ,with sharp bends, perfect when you sat on a small length of wood across you Jacko skate. Jacko were the best because they had rubber wheels and suspension, when you leaned either left or right, they could be steered. also, home made wooden go carts, with large pram wheels at the the back, with two smaller wheels on the front axle, which you steered with string or rope. In the early 50’s we never saw any cars on our road, firstly it was horse drawn milkcart , ,later the electric United Dairy’s milk floats, don’t think anyone owned a car in our street, bit different now