Marshside Life
Marshside in the 40’s and 50’s
John Wright and I are second cousins, we nearly met as children on several occasions but he went out as I came in and I left when he arrived so neither of us remembers any occasion when we might have been at the same place at the same time. We might have met later in Manchester in the fifties but it didn’t happen then either. We became pensioners before we finally made contact!
That happened because we had both become members of the North Meols Family History Society and discovered the Members Interest List. We have been catching up ever since. He, of course was brought up in St Annes whereas I stayed in Marshside. He lived with his grandparents. I, (since the age of six) and my parents and my brother lived with our great aunt Ann at the end dwelling on Marshside Road, the last bungalow before the fogbell. The bank with the marsh and shore lay beyond it.
This was a Methodist household and Aunt Ann followed the traditional ways. On Sundays there was no playing outside, no wireless except for the service in the morning. (Fortunately for me, Dick Barton Special Agent wasn’t broadcast on a Sunday). The only book approved of was the Bible. Aunt Ann had a big family bible one with locks and many pictures. Sunday School, morning and afternoon, and later, morning and evening services filled the day. If I go to a wedding or funeral now I rarely need to look at the hymn sheet, I know all the words.
Aunt Ann once gave my brother an envelope to put on the collection plate during the service and he opened it (not feeling a coin inside). When he discovered a crinkly white five pound note he thought there must have been a mistake and brought it back home.
At three and a bit I went to Emmanuel School like my mother before me. She always said my grandfather, a bricklayer, helped to build it. My mother had a certificate dated 1914 commending her on the regularity and punctuality of her attendance, not to mention her good conduct. I remember it with fondness, we did a bit of air raid practice, learned our tables and letters and also the words to Lily Marlene.
We kept ourselves busy, most of my friends were “Marshside Sunbeams,” (Morris dancers). Unlike the more usual image of adult male dancers, we were exclusively little girls. We’d practise on Monday evenings on the front outside Tommy Ball’s shop on Lytham Road corner, no music, but someone would lala “A Hundred Pipers” and off we’d go. Sometimes on a Saturday we went to competitions in other villages. At the end of the war we wore sashes in red, white and blue.
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This was a Methodist household and Aunt Ann followed the traditional ways. On Sundays there was no playing outside, no wireless except for the service in the morning. (Fortunately for me, Dick Barton Special Agent wasn’t broadcast on a Sunday). The only book approved of was the Bible. Aunt Ann had a big family bible one with locks and many pictures. Sunday School, morning and afternoon, and later, morning and evening services filled the day. If I go to a wedding or funeral now I rarely need to look at the hymn sheet, I know all the words.
Aunt Ann once gave my brother an envelope to put on the collection plate during the service and he opened it (not feeling a coin inside). When he discovered a crinkly white five pound note he thought there must have been a mistake and brought it back home.
At three and a bit I went to Emmanuel School like my mother before me. She always said my grandfather, a bricklayer, helped to build it. My mother had a certificate dated 1914 commending her on the regularity and punctuality of her attendance, not to mention her good conduct. I remember it with fondness, we did a bit of air raid practice, learned our tables and letters and also the words to Lily Marlene.
We kept ourselves busy, most of my friends were “Marshside Sunbeams,” (Morris dancers). Unlike the more usual image of adult male dancers, we were exclusively little girls. We’d practise on Monday evenings on the front outside Tommy Ball’s shop on Lytham Road corner, no music, but someone would lala “A Hundred Pipers” and off we’d go. Sometimes on a Saturday we went to competitions in other villages. At the end of the war we wore sashes in red, white and blue.
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