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I remember '76 well. I was 10
It was a carefree time for me. White dog poo and gallons of "fizzy pop", as my school mates used to call it. Usually Cresta or Corona. Remember being out really late and there was still some daylight left. I could just see the yellow sun disappearing on the horizon.
In fact, I was reminded of it tonight when I went outside and it was still semi daylight at 10:15.
'77 was a different year. I wasn't footloose and fancy free any more because in September I was starting at a boarding school. Mum wasn't rich, far from it. She had struggled greatly since my Dad buggered off with "a young dolly bird" (as he put it) when I was 2. He paid absolutely sweet FA to Mum. But a distant relative who lodged in my Gran's house when I lived with her in London had left money "to educate the boy", so that's what she did.
I was quite scared of him. To me, he always seemed to talk in a great booming voice, "When are you going to get some teeth in your mouth, boy?"
The other extreme of weatheri experienced leaving said boarding school at Christmas. It was 1981 and we couldn't get home. The school was just outside Pontefract and Mum lived in Stockport. The Woodhead was blocked, as was the Snake and the 62 as well. To cap it off the railway lines were blocked too.
We had to stay at school until BR had cleared the tracks, then we all piled on with our huge trunks. It reminded me of pictures I had seen of packed trains in India, there was hardly any room to breathe, let alone move. I stood for some of the journey then was able to find a seat. A very memorable journey and indeed, Winter.
It was a carefree time for me. White dog poo and gallons of "fizzy pop", as my school mates used to call it. Usually Cresta or Corona. Remember being out really late and there was still some daylight left. I could just see the yellow sun disappearing on the horizon.
In fact, I was reminded of it tonight when I went outside and it was still semi daylight at 10:15.
'77 was a different year. I wasn't footloose and fancy free any more because in September I was starting at a boarding school. Mum wasn't rich, far from it. She had struggled greatly since my Dad buggered off with "a young dolly bird" (as he put it) when I was 2. He paid absolutely sweet FA to Mum. But a distant relative who lodged in my Gran's house when I lived with her in London had left money "to educate the boy", so that's what she did.
I was quite scared of him. To me, he always seemed to talk in a great booming voice, "When are you going to get some teeth in your mouth, boy?"
The other extreme of weatheri experienced leaving said boarding school at Christmas. It was 1981 and we couldn't get home. The school was just outside Pontefract and Mum lived in Stockport. The Woodhead was blocked, as was the Snake and the 62 as well. To cap it off the railway lines were blocked too.
We had to stay at school until BR had cleared the tracks, then we all piled on with our huge trunks. It reminded me of pictures I had seen of packed trains in India, there was hardly any room to breathe, let alone move. I stood for some of the journey then was able to find a seat. A very memorable journey and indeed, Winter.
