Seven thirty, a Monday morning, June, in the early fifties. The scene, Shirley Road electricity works, formerly 'The Rushden & District Electric Supply Co.' Nationalised several years previously, all the vehicles had been painted grey, with the single word in white lettering - 'ELECTRICITY' - on the sides. At that time not a fully qualified electrician, I was given the small, mainly domestic wiring jobs, no doubt where it was considered least damage would be done to unsuspecting consumers' property.

Foreman Jack Warburton gave me the yellow works order for a job at Melchboume - overhead line, two lights and a time-switch in a poultry shed. I was instructed to get my materials quickly, as the 'Mains Department' lorry would be taking me. Items already collected from storeman George Bollard, and still at the serving hatch, with a wink to others waiting I asked for some earth wire staples. I didn't actually need these but the resulting anguish, and cries of "oower!", "ouch!" and "agh!" from George, always gave malicious delight to the onlookers as the razor-sharp, pointed staples stuck to his fingers. Later, Harold Warner and his assistant George experimented with a large magnet in dispensing these vicious articles, greater mirth ensued when, once attracted, the staples proved impossible to remove. Fun ended when a misguided philanthropist gave them a thick leather glove.

On our way now, tools and materials on board the canvas- covered lorry, the journey improved after bumpy Newton Road was behind us. Cable drums, we found, did not provide the most comfortable seating! My job was at one of the red brick houses below the long row of thatched stone cottages. Linesman Fred Wagstaff, and his mate Dick Hale, stayed on the lorry for their job at the top of the road, installing supply to a cottage still using paraffin oil for lighting and cooking.