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There is a faint memory of travelling home in the (electric) train, via Heaton Station, and of the knowledge it was not the first time that the similar journeys home had already been made - to and from the Mortimer household in Whitley Road, Whitley Bay. This memory occurred before the sensation of the speeding up of time came at about the age of 4 (it has been getting faster ever since). There are others; falling down the stairs and so on, which must be common to all children. Naturally early life was moulded by a twin brother with whom one 'strove for supremacy' in Father's phrase. Being washed was also a major event which happened 3 times daily (especially the ears and neck) - not surprising when one considers the dirty atmosphere of the time. There were the occasions when washing was done at the kitchen sink with one’s legs dangling over the edge. Sounds played a large part in life - the trams a good half-mile away, the railway marshalling yard at Walker, and horses' hooves from the numerous tradesmen who came round. There was Oliver, the milkman, who came round in his dray and sold potatoes as well as bottled milk. The laundryman, from South Gosforth, came round in a covered cart, and there was also the coal merchant, the green grocer, and the fishman or fishwife. The buses stopping at the corner of Newton Road and Southlands were followed by the sound of footsteps going up the street. No one in the street owned a car, and even very small children could safely play there - the worst one could expect was Mr Smith's bicycle coming unannounced round the corner. The 'Blue Buses' ran not far away, there was a service from Paddy Freeman’s to Cowgate (No.4) via the town which Father used, another to Cramlington (No.8), and a green bus, the successor to the green trams, which ran to Wallsend. The Newcastle trams - many of them - at the bottom of Newton Road, were considered to be within walking distance. Mother took it for granted that a walk of 1Н miles to the top of Heaton Road to her dressmaker (and 1Н miles back) to be within reach of a 4 year olds capabilities, and although there was a pushchair available its use was seldom allowed, and the bus up Newton Road was practically never taken. The only advantage of these journeys to a small child was watching the trains and the goods wagons on the main line; though sometimes there would be a walk back through Heaton Park, past the bandstand to the pedestrian bridge over the main road at Benton Bank, which gave an opportunity to watch from above while the trams went underneath. Walks on Cragside included a view of the quarry, later filled in to become the home of Heaton Stannington Football Club. To the north of Cragside it was largely rural, and on walks along Freeman Road we might see cows crossing at milking time. At 4 years of age the summer holiday was spent in Bellingham - I think I can still pinpoint the terrace house where we stayed. Father was away in Spain so the party included Aunt Elizabeth and occasionally Uncle Bob. Chief recollections are of a horse that I think we were allowed to 'ride', of the little marshalling yard at the railway station, and of walks to the beauty spot at Hareshaw Linn. Also, and unforgettably, the consequences of being fed too much cream - for 20 years afterwards I refused to touch the stuff. By that time Neil was on the way, and Mother was resting and taking tonics. We were shunted off to Sefton Avenue for his arrival, and promptly caught Whooping Cough, a frightening and horrible illness, which included vomiting. We were not surprisingly kept away from Neil until all danger was past, and I can remember not being very impressed with him when we did get home! Grandma at Sefton Avenue had her own recipes, and ham and pease pudding was served up several times. 7.12 School School began at 5. There was no nursery school or playgroup, but Mother had already taught us to read and to print some letters, so the baby class, equipped with slates, presented few problems. Measles quickly followed and then chickenpox. I still have odd recollections - the occasion when the school was shut for the 1935 General Election - and the time when one boy, instead of heading his paper ‘E. Watson’ headed it instead ‘Edmund W’, thus getting a telling off from the teacher about something which today would have just caused laughter. The school lay where High Heaton library now stands; it was a wooden building covering three sides of a square with the playground in the centre. It had gas lighting and gas heating of some sort which involved lighting gas jets below radiators (no central heating) and wet or cold days were unpleasant. The toilets were outdoors across the yard. Usually Doug and I went and came home ourselves, but when Mother took herself off to the Townswomen’s' Guild on a Tuesday the maid, Olive (yes, there was an occasional maid from about 1933 to 1939) would meet us before she went home herself. Icy mornings were difficult as we had leather shoes that had to be rubbed with cinders to give some purchase on the pavements. We also had leather gloves, which, frankly, were useless. Winter clothes included 'combinations', combined woollen vests and underpants; in general in pre-central heating days clothes were much thicker than now - at least for those who could afford them. Even in my school, which was in a better part of the town, several of the children wore ragged pullovers or jackets, and there was one boy who today would have been sent to a 'special' school as he was not properly toilet-trained. Every year there were collections for the cot fund (no National Health) and the boot fund - there were still barefoot children about, though not many. Later, while at the junior school at Chillingham Road, we would pass unemployed men going up to the coal tips at Benton to glean coal; they would return in the afternoon with a filled sack on a bicycle. At that time the drinking of milk in school at the morning break had just begun, and collecting the milk money and taking it to the headmistress's room was a coveted task. At first Н pint bottles were served but this proved to be too much for most children and later smaller one-third pint bottles replaced them. Modern medicines had not been discovered; tincture of iodine was the staple for cuts & scratches and ‘Golden Eye Ointment’ for eye infections (now banned as it contained mercuric oxide but was nevertheless effective). There were Christmas parties at school (the teachers, by the way, were all unmarried or widows - Heads of Infant & Junior Schools were also unmarried ladies; teachers & Heads at boys’ Senior Schools were men). On Empire Day, 24th May, Doug & I were allowed out once to make daisy chains because it was our birthday. There are still a couple of class photographs from High Heaton Infant School extant, but I doubt whether I could identify more than the odd child. There were, of course, no fountain pens of the modern kind (they began to come in, very expensively, during the War) and all writing was with wooden pens with steel nibs and frequent dipping into inkpots. I don't think we did proper writing until Junior School, but at least when we did it was the real thing and not just 'joined up'. Great attention was paid to multiplication tables and there were many 'tests', though not of the kind the present Government would like. At 8 we started at Chillingham Road Junior School - a late Victorian building (still there) about 1Н - 2 miles from home. No school dinners and everyone went home at noon. There was a school bus that we were allowed to use (not free) and Mother used to make us walk home in the afternoon. The bus, which was an ancient petrol driven model, had an outside staircase to the upper deck, and was known as 'The Knack'. It started in Westlands and did a roundabout trip through the Council Houses (which had picked tenants), down Benton Road and past the Cremona Sweet Factory and the cemetery. From there it crossed the traffic lights (long gone) on to Chillingham Road and took in the girl’s senior school on Trewitt Road en route. On wet mornings the windows would be fogged up (no heating), but the children usually attempted to sing bits of the pop songs of the day, including 'Yes, we have no Bananas' and 'There's an awful lot of coffee in Brazil'. During the Abyssinian War in 1936 a favourite was - 'Will you come to Abyssinia will you come, All you need is a rifle or a gun, Mussolini will be there shooting bullets in the air, Will you come to Abyssinia will you come'. At dinner time we usually took a tram to the bottom of Newton Road. Later, when we were considered old enough to walk all the way, there was a favourite stopping place in winter at a Hovis bakery near the top of Chillingham Road where the wall was always warm – no steamed flour masquerading as bread in those days. At ‘Chilly Road’, as we called it, there was a celebration for the Silver Jubilee of George V and Queen Mary in 1935 at which we were lined up and given tins of toffee by the City Fathers. Douglas missed this because he had a broken leg and was in hospital - he fell off his fairy cycle awkwardly at the bottom of Eastlands and had to learn to walk again. By then Saturday mornings (at 7am) were spent at Chillingham Road Baths with father and sometimes cousin Daphne - we were supposed to be learning to swim. A little later Edward VIII abdicated - there were rude verses about Mrs Simpson which I cannot remember, but I do remember Father breaking all the Coronation Mugs which had already been bought in readiness - we were patriotic in those days and flags were frequently hung out of one of the front bedroom windows; next door had a flagpole in the garden. I still have a recollection of going to the top of Newton Road on the way home to see a partial eclipse of the sun in 1936, and, incidentally, to see the new school at Cragside a-building. If we were at home mother would generally send one of us for a ‘message’ to the local shops for a small brown loaf (2Нd) or for tuppence worth of yeast or some other item she had forgotten while doing the week’s shopping. It was most interesting going to the local Co-op (still there a few years ago), since this had an overhead trolley arrangement for paying bills (there is one in the Beamish Museum). On most Friday afternoons Doug & I had a piano lesson at the house of a Mrs Maughan who lived near Grandma Dixon, and frequently there would be a family tea at Sefton Avenue; Grandfather Dixon was pleased when I followed in his footsteps in liking fruit loaf. Piano lessons ceased in 1938 and we did not play again until Penrith days in 1941. The piano lessons were replaced by violin lessons at the Royal Grammar School, but these had no permanent effect, though I did actually play the violin in the Kings College Orchestra after the War, soon to be replaced by the French Horn (I can’t now play that either). We were fortunate to have at least one excellent teacher, a Miss Yeaden, who had no sense of humour but who amongst other attributes had a talent for teaching singing, and I still remember to this day one or two of the folk songs she taught (not Geordie songs - anything in dialect was frowned upon) - 'Gossip Joan' and the one about the duck that evaded Mrs Bland's efforts to catch it for a tasty dish for her customers. Life seemed to revolve round dinner (always at 12.30) and the 12.55 and one o’clock sirens, which sounded from local factories. And there was always Rex, the dog, at the door to greet us. A fortnight before Easter came the annual ritual of Carlin (or Carling) Sunday, which involved buying carlin peas at the local shop and frying them, after soaking, in butter, they were hard as nails. The story was that during the siege of Newcastle in 1644 during the Civil War a ship managed to reach the quayside carrying carlin (or maple) peas, thus averting famine. However, it appears that in fact Carling Sunday is or was a widespread English and Scottish custom (and even South Wales), and there are legends about its origin in several places. Since the carlin pea seems to be the original mediaeval kind I suppose that the custom must go back at least to the 14thC. The Carlin Sunday rhyme goes: - ‘Tid, Mid, Miseray, Carlin, Palm and Pace-Egg Day’ “The first three words are obviously from the old Latin service: Te Deum, Mid Deus and Miserere Mei. The other words are explained thus: - carlins are grey peas, soaked and boiled and eaten on Care Sunday, before Palm Sunday; Care Sunday and Care Week were so called because it was a period of great religious care and anxiety before the crucifixion of Christ. This custom is very old and peas were used as a substitute for the beans of the heathen.” (From ‘Origins of Rhymes, Songs and Sayings’ by Jean Harrowven, Kaye & Ward, London, 1977) In 1937 the new school (Infants & Junior) at Cragside opened and the old wooden High Heaton School became a library, later to be rebuilt in brick. To the north of the school there were still fields. We were only at Cragside for a few months in, I think, Standard 4, as after the summer holidays (4 weeks in those days) it was back to Chillingham Road and the Senior School. Nevertheless there are numbers of recollections - again learning songs with Miss Gray such as 'The Music Makers' and 'The Skye Boat Song' - the latter for a school concert on the occasion of the coronation of King George VI and Queen Elizabeth - yet another opportunity to show the flag. All the children in the school took part in this; the infants had a tableau, and the junior classes did their own turns – there was an English version of the Welsh ‘Land of my Fathers’ but Ireland could only be represented by ‘The poor little shamrock of Ireland’. Some of us were allowed to make weather observations at the morning breaks and plot the results on charts. There was an afternoon of races in May at Paddy Freeman’s near the pond to choose competitors for the annual Inter-School Sports – my efforts in the sack race were unsuccessful, perhaps due to the varying sizes of the sacks! As at Chillingham Road everybody went home for dinner. The Headmistress of the Junior School was a Miss Sterk, and of the Infant School a Miss Nattress. Back in the Senior School we were in the Scholarship Class and had one of the best class teachers I have ever come across - a Mr Hall (Hawly). The male teachers had to be addressed as Sir; we had been solemnly instructed to do this by Miss Gray. The class numbered 56 and discipline was strict, though I can only remember one occasion when Hawly lost his cool one morning and used his strap on a number of boys (the Senior School was single sex) - usually he put two blackboards together and pretended to whack boys out of sight; certainly the sound of the strap hitting the blackboard was very effective. Good written work was rewarded with gold pen nibs, stars, and stickers with 'Well Tried' and so on. There was also an excellent History teacher, a Mr Lancaster, who gave me an interest in the subject for life - I can still remember drawing pictures of mediaeval ships to illustrate some topic, probably Edward III and the Hundred Years' War. I was, however, hopeless at Art, and have remained so ever since. At that time my writing was very good; I still remember having to spend some time copying Wordsworth's 'Ode on Westminster Bridge'. Religious Education in those days actually meant something; we were aware of different translations of the Bible and had to learn off by heart several of the more poetic bits including David's lament for Saul & several of the Psalms from the King James Bible. Another teacher, a Mr Jackson, who replaced Hawly for a time taught us something about Don Quixote, on whom he was keen, and gave us the correct Spanish pronunciation. At the end of the day 10 of the boys won scholarships to the Royal Grammar School and nearly all the rest either to the Secondary (state Grammar) School or to one of the Central or Technical Schools which have, alas, disappeared from the scene - they will have to be reinvented. Those who failed to win scholarships had, perforce, to continue in the senior School until they were 14, but certainly at Chillingham Road they got a good education - nearly all left able to write a good letter and also learned a little French and Latin - no science though as there were no facilities. Doug and I just failed to get scholarships to the RGS and so, I fear, had to be paid for by Grandad Dixon - (we did get scholarships to the Secondary School, though Douglas had to sit a separate examination as he was in hospital again). Chillingham Road school had no games facilities; once a week we were led out to form lines to do Swedish Drill in the school yard, though some of the older boys were taken to Paddy Freeman’s for football - they had to walk the 2 miles there and 2 miles back as well. No school buses and no school lunch; at 12 o'clock I was generally able to catch a special No.4 which was on its way from the bus sheds to its official route, and caught a tram back from the bottom of Newton Road. Douglas had managed somehow to contract scarlet fever, a serious matter then, and was taken to Walkergate Isolation Hospital on Christmas Day 1937 at just about the time Christmas dinner should have been served; he was incarcerated for about 3 weeks during which time mother and I made several trips, on foot, to deliver post and possibly goodies of various kinds. So in September 1938 we started at the Royal Grammar School, to which Father and Uncle Alec had also gone in their day. There was, of course, a school uniform, blazer, tie, and cap, and one was expected to stay for School Dinner, which cost 1/- and was value for money, with as much as one wished to eat. A duty master headed each table, so there was some discipline. One important feature of the school at that time was the class arrangements, which were governed by 'setting' in groups of subjects rather than 'streaming', and would have been considered good practise today. So although at the beginning we were in Form IIi for most subjects, for French we were in II(iii), being beginners. I cannot say that our French master was a particularly good linguist, as most of the class could not distinguish between his pronunciation of щ and ш, but at least his lessons were entertaining. We were very aware of the Munich crisis at the time (September 1938). At the break periods we used to play Relieve O!; one of the more popular and active children’s' games, though I cannot recollect seeing it played since (for the rules see the Opies’ book). The school was, as one might expect, organised in Houses named after prominent Northumbrian characters (ours was Eldon after the character who eloped with Bessy Surtees and eventually became a very reactionary Lord Chancellor); in addition there was a school song, written in the 1920s which has recently been abandoned (Horsley a Merchant Venturer bold, Of good Northumbrian fame, Founded our rule and built our School In bluff King Harry’s reign, Long may its name old Time defy, Like the Castle grim that stands, Foresquare to every wind that blows, In our stormy Northern lands. Fortiter defendit, fortiter defendit, fortiter defendit triumphans etc). The sentiments in this song were out of date before it was written and there were several skits on it. There was the occasion of the Lord Mayor's Visit in November 1938 when the traditional half-day holiday was requested. It was about this time, in connection with cricket, that the change from wearing shorts to longs began; nearly all boys until they were between 12 & 14 wore shorts in those days, and this custom went on until the 1970s. The School was much better equipped than any state school, there was woodwork (and, if it had not been for the War, metalwork) and reasonably good science laboratories for the time, though by today's standards the fume cupboards were hopeless and indeed I believe a lab. boy died of NO2 poisoning while we were there. Chemistry lessons were accompanied by demonstrations. The School also had its own swimming pool, and had the tradition of bathing naked; it was not until much later that the school authorities both there and at the Central High School for Girls on the other side of Eskdale Terrace realised that there was a popular viewpoint in the High School from which the boys could be seen when about to dive. At Whitsuntide in 1939 there was a school camp at Ridley Hall near Bardon Mill up the South Tyne; travel there was by train and by foot to the site with a kit bag and thereafter all the excursions were on foot - to the Roman Wall (where we played Picts and Romans) and on to Housesteads and back - it was a long day. On the walk we sang ‘Little Sir Echo’ and ‘The Quartermaster’s Stores’. A second excursion was to Starward Pele up Allendale; still recollected as one of those places I ought to visit again but have not had time. The RGS held summer camps for the older boys; some of these were abroad in France or Switzerland, and therefore only for the well off. Pre-war school, perhaps finally, is remembered because of a visit to the Royal Show on the Town Moor - there was free ice cream. However, by early 1939 preparations were being made for evacuation to Penrith and there was a visit of dignitaries from that town to the school. 7.13 Travel, Leisure, and Holidays This is a necessarily muddled section. Public transport was much better than now, and no one in the street owned a car. At 8 years of age Doug and I were expected to be able to cross the town, changing bus to tram – a 1d half fare on the bus plus a Нd half fare on the tram, to go to the Peacock relatives in Wingrove Road - this kind of thing would probably be considered risky nowadays. Traffic lights went off at night, as did nearly all of the street lighting (mostly gas with electric on some of the main roads), but buses and trams ran to 11pm. Grandfather Dixon had the only car in the family in connection with his business but so far as I was concerned was used for a few holidays and occasional weekend outings. Ridsdale (see under Aunt Elizabeth) was a common destination, when we first went there the road from Knowsgate to near Ridsdale was still unsurfaced. There were several cars, a Riley, followed by a Singer which did not last long, then a Rover 10 and finally, in 1938, a Wolseley 12, (HBB 633) which lasted (had to last) until about 1951. I can only remember one rail excursion with the Peacock aunts, to Tynemouth I think, which was noteworthy for something of a tidal wave sweeping up the beach. For our 5th birthdays Doug & I were given fairy cycles, and I still have a vivid recollection of freewheeling down Denewell, the next street to Eastlands, out of control, pursued by Aunt Elizabeth, when learning to ride. In 1938 we graduated to our first proper bicycles which were to last us until after the end of the War (bicycles could not be obtained new again until about 1947). These were 19" frame 'sit up and beg' machines with Sturmey-Archer 3-speed gears; father got them at a shop just beside where Grandfather Peacock's last shop had been, and at a special price, they cost Ѓ3.15s apiece compared with Ѓ5 for an equivalent Raleigh. On these we used to ride up to West Moor (where there was a cottage with a plaque to George Stephenson), to Gosforth Park, and sometimes down the Old Coast Road to see Dora and her father and mother, by then in the house at Mitchell Avenue to which Malcolm went as a baby. We were also able to ride along the old, unused tram track between South Gosforth and the New Coast Road. The countryside then began where the Freeman Road Hospital is now. Pocket money was the traditional Saturday penny, raised to 2d in 1938. This was enough to buy sweets (1d per ounce) or a liquorice and sherbet stick, which was popular, or a 1d ice cream cornet. Ice cream was made at the local shop or was bought from the Eldorado or Walls boys who would be riding their special tricycles near Paddy Freeman’s – the machines had ‘Stop me and Buy One’ on the front. There was certainly not enough money for regular visits to the cinema, and before the War I never went to a Saturday afternoon Matinee. On Saturdays and in the holidays a favourite destination was Paddy Freeman’s above Jesmond Dene. We used to be careful about riding our bicycles there, because the park keepers were strict. A new part was opened, with much publicity, in 1937. At that time high railings surrounded the Dene and opening hours were limited. The railings disappeared during the War, and afterwards there was nothing to prevent youths roaming the place at all hours without check, so the park is now a sad shadow of its former self. The bluebells have gone and there is continual earth slippage as a result of the removal of vegetation from the sides of the Dene. However, the public cannot entirely be blamed, because at one point before the War raw sewage was apparently allowed to be discharged into the Ouse Burn for a time, presumably to save money, and the kingfishers disappeared, never to return. We had enough toys. Chief was a Hornby railway, with a clockwork engine and goods wagons – later there was also a Pullman coach and a steam engine. The steam engine was too heavy for the track & we never really got it working properly – either it didn’t get up enough steam to go at all or else it ran too fast and left the track at the first bend. On one occasion we, with Father, had the track laid out in the bedroom and the engine fell over on its side under the bed, spilling burning meths. Fortunately the oilcloth did not catch fire and we were easily persuaded not to tell Mum. There was also Meccano, an electricity set which we used to set up a signalling system between the bedrooms, and a battery operated electric motor. We also had a couple of clockwork motor boats, which were chiefly used on holidays. My main hobby at this time was stamp collecting. I started in 1936, when the George Vth Silver Jubilee stamps were still about. Collecting was made easy by the overseas trade of the Scotia Wools, which meant it was not long before I had a quite respectable collection of 'British Empire' - I only ever bought one set of stamps as a birthday present (Coronation, - St. Vincent I think). I often used to walk into town to look at a particular stamp shop near the castle and another in the Haymarket; the excursion took the whole of a Saturday morning (and so was approved of by Mother). In 1936 we joined the Wolf Cubs at High Heaton Presbyterian Church and continued into the Scouts, but this finished with the War in 1939 and was only resumed, for me, in 1949. The uniform was uncomfortable in those days, consisting of shorts, a rough jersey and neckerchief. I remember getting some stamps from the Scoutmaster after the 1937 Jamboree in Holland. On summer holidays the family (including Grandma & Grandfather plus sundry Dixon relatives) would take a house or part of a house for up to a month. In 1932 and several other years this was in Seahouses, where at the beginning there was no gas or electricity and the kitchen had banks of paraffin stoves. Most of the luggage, in trunks, came by rail. The first holiday house backed on to the Seahouses to Chathill Railway, a small private line whose chief ornament was a tall funnelled engine called the Bamburgh Castle. The trains had 1st, 2nd, and 3rd class coaches, and once each holiday we were allowed an excursion to Chathill and back along the grass covered line. A beach tent was erected each year on the south sands and left there for the whole holiday with deck chairs inside. My recollection is that we frequently managed to get sunburned and had to have our skins treated afterwards with glycerine & rose water; the sea was always cold and for preference we played with bucket and (wooden) spade at the mouth of a stream which ran over the beach. Father and Grandfather played golf each morning on the 9-hole course; we were occasionally allowed to accompany them and putt with our little clubs on the greens. There were always caddies waiting at the clubhouse, and at the tees there were sandboxes for the old-fashioned players who disdained the new-fangled wooden tees. I seem to remember that we had some quoits. Most mornings we went to collect the paper from the newsagent where the Information Shop now stands, and it was there in about 1938 that the new Beano comic was bought. On one occasion Douglas got mumps; this was disguised by being called swollen glands. There were excursions to the Farne Islands (much as now) on fishing boats, and once to Holy Island - it gave me a queer turn a few years ago when some long forgotten memories of the boat journey, including those of two cairn-like markers seen probably on a wet day, surfaced after some 70 years. Lobsters could be bought from the fish shop in the square – now nearly all seem to end up in the more expensive London restaurants. There was a Fair at Seahouses each August; it was still going a few years ago. Other summer holidays were spent at Warkworth, Berwick, and Dunbar. It was at Dunbar that I beat grandfather on the putting green and he gave me a sixpence, and it was there, too, that we used to play in the paddling pool with clockwork motor boats. There was an open-air swimming pool where the sea-temperature seldom exceeded 10 degrees centigrade (this is now gone). The sea pool at Berwick was slightly worse as there were crabs, which sometimes nipped one's toes. However, Seahouses was the favourite destination. The last holiday there was at the beginning of August 1939, and for the adults the atmosphere must already have been unreal, since it was only just over a fortnight after returning that war broke out. I still remember being on the breakwater and telling brother Neil on 4th August that it was the 25th anniversary of the outbreak of the first world war, and later going on several visits to the roundabouts at the Fair. There was a special holiday in London in, I think, Race Week (the last full week in June) 1936, with Father and Granddad Dixon. Somewhere there is a 9mm film with part of this recorded (now found and converted expensively to video); it was to be my last visit to the Great Wen until 1953. We stayed at a small hotel near Russell Square station, and were duly impressed by the Underground (where we thought the trains were going a lot faster than they really were), London Zoo, rainbow ice creams, and the trams, especially the bit where they ran below street level in the Aldwych (the tunnel is still there, sometimes used for cars). We did much better out of holidays than most of our contemporaries. The usual run was a day at Whitley Bay or Tynemouth, and on Saturdays and Sunday afternoons in the summer we would see the crowded buses going past the bottom of Newton Road on their way to the coast. The electric trains would be just as full. The railways ran day excursions to Alston and Rothbury and sometimes the Lake District. Holidays abroad were very rare; the only one I knew about in the family was the parents’ honeymoon in Switzerland. There was no exact equivalent on Tyneside to the Lancashire Wakes Weeks; the nearest was Race Week at the end of June and that did not result in mass migration out of town. Some workers only got the Bank Holidays away from work and had no other holiday entitlement. The last few days of August 1939 were strange. On the Tuesday before War broke out Neil, Daphne, and Mother departed for Ridsdale in grandfather's car and Father looked after the two of us. There were rehearsals at school and in the town for the coming evacuation, and on the Wednesday night father took us to see the film of The Mikado at the Queen's Cinema on Northumberland Street. This was the last time the City lights were on for nearly 6 years, as next day all neon and shop lighting was forbidden. 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