This page will be devoted to stories and tales about former pupils or teachers from St Joseph's School. Some will be from my book on St Joseph's, "Where Buildings Once Stood". Since that time Phyllis, who is the subject of stories 1-5. Sadly Phyllis passed away in 2006. as did Tommy Powell at number 10.
I am pleased to be able bring these memories to you.
This story will cover memories of Phyllis Arnold, nee Farina, who was a pupil at St Joseph's from 1923 to 1928. Whilst it will touch occurrences at the school, it also seeks to highlight how life was for her and her family at that time. You may want to consider it was also a reflection of many other families, both indigenous and immigrant, in the inner city of Birmingham.
Born in 1914, Phyllis Farina was the eldest child in a family of eight. Her father Marcus had immigrated to England from Casserta, Sicily, with his father, mother and several brothers and sisters when he was 12 years old. Like many Italian immigrants at that time they went to live in the Bartholomew Row area. This area near to the junction with Fazeley Street, was known as Scratchems Corner.
At this time Phyllis’s mother, Ada, lived at the Duddeston end of Bartholomew Row being one of a family of 9. They would eventually meet, court and get married.
One of Marcus’s younger brothers would eventually fight for Great Britain during the Second World War in the Battle of Monte Casino, Italy not too great a distance from the home of his ancestors. He was injured during this action though thankfully he recovered.
Like many other families at the time Phyllis was brought up in a small back-to-back house in Lichfield Road near to Aston Cross with her father and mother. A two up one down house, as she described, never posh but always clean.
The family had to use one of the three toilets situated at the bottom of the yard. A facility they shared with six other families, all of whom had many members.
The yard also contained the "Miskin" or rubbish tip. This would eventually be replaced with the coming of the dustbins.
In the early days at the bottom of the yard was the rear of a Gas Mantle Shop, which was run by two ladies. Their sole business was of selling gas mantles, which went over the flame of the then gas lighting ensuring a glow. The cost of a mantle being 4d (About 1.1/2p).
The ladies had a large residence in Vicarage Road Aston which contained its own stables. In this they would keep a large black carriage. They could often be seen riding around in the carriage being pulled by a very black horse. They also had their own driver who invariably was dressed all in black, even to his top hat The only thing not being black were the gleaming brass fittings adorning the horse's straps and harnesses.
At this time Phyllis was attending Vicarage Road School. She recalls often having to wait whilst the ladies in their splendid horse and carriage came out of the stables and into the road.
The house also boasted a nice garden, which contained many beautiful flowers. One day on her way to school Phyllis decided that she would help herself to a bunch of dahlias. These she would present to the school and tell them they were from her own garden. Needless to say the subterfuge was quickly seen through. Back to back houses did not have the room for gardens. When asked why she had taken them, she truthfully said, "Please Miss, because I like them".
It was clear, even at this time Phyllis was enchanted with the beauty of the flowers and the greenery, both of which were sadly missing from the environment in which she was growing up.
This is never more evident when in later years she recalls a class she was in at St Joseph's would occasionally take a field trip to Birches Green. A tram would take the class from Aston Railway Station on the Lichfield Road to Erdington from where they made their way on foot.
Once there, they would play sport or draw by the pavilion. Phyllis could never get over the vast green area with its freshness and pleasant surroundings and often compared them with her own everyday environment.
She can recall that on the journey home she would always endeavour to go to the upper saloon of the tram and have the fresh air blowing on her face from the open front. She retains a strong memory of that experience to this day.
Her father worked as a goods delivery driver with a horse drawn lorry in those days for the Railway. It would seem that due to his desire to learn, he would often read late into the night, thus making getting up the following day a little bit difficult. Hence he was often late for work.
Help was at hand however. His younger brother Louis, fancied himself as an inventor and came up with an idea of a water alarm clock. He believed that by taking an alarm clock, adapting a picture frame to accommodate a jug of water on the alarm going off, water would drip onto father’s face and thereby wake him up. This experiment would not be continued after Phyllis’s mother received the contents of the water jug, too many times for her own liking. Neither a domestic, nor commercial success.
Bartholomew Row (Lower Dale End near to where the new Millennium Point building now stands) became synonymous with the Italian immigrants arriving in Birmingham. Considerable information about this area, called ”Little Italy”, is well covered in the publication, “Bella Brum”. It also refers to Phyllis’s grandmother, Angela Farina, who is identified as a lodging housekeeper.
It would seem that for some reason or other, the local police considered Italians to be anarchists and bomb makers. In any event the police always patrolled in pairs.
For two officers their fears appeared justified one night when on walking past a solitary figure, they heard a ticking sound. Letting the figure walk a considerable way past them, and now considering themselves safe from any bomb blast, they questioned him from a distance. The feared bomb carrier was no other that Phyllis’s Uncle Louis who had been carrying a clock, no doubt intent on some other marvellous invention! Later, satisfied, the officers allowed him on his way.
The gas mantle shop at the end of Phyllis’s yard eventually closed. It would open again as Arthur Thompson, Pork Butchers. Added problems now arose as an abattoir was now at the rear of the premises. The screaming of the pigs being led through the rear yard to the butchers shop became a regular sound.
The arrival of the butchers affected the Farina family more than the rest as Thompson placed his sausage- making machine against their one downstairs room's outside wall. Now on this particular wall was a large painting of Saint Mary Magdalen. Needless to say nearly every time the machine started up, the picture fell off the wall. Despite being given the bill for the repair to the painting, Thompson never paid. When she was later confirmed, Phyllis took the name Mary Magdalen.
One benefit the butchers provided was that the children in the yard would receive a blown up pig's bladder to use as a ball. Even this had to stop though when officers from the Public Health Department came and put an end to the practice saying these were a health hazard.
Phyllis’s time at Vicarage Road School came to an end with the arrival of Father Murphy at St Joseph's. It would now be about 1923. He wanted to ensure that all Catholic children in the area attended St Joseph's School. To that effect he went door to door seeking those who for some reason or other attended other schools. On arrival at Phyllis’s home, the instruction was, " Monday St Joseph's" There was no room for negotiating!
As directed Phyllis attended on the Monday morning. The first question asked by her teacher was "Did you go to Mass yesterday" Her reply, "Please miss, what is it miss?” saw her removed to the corner of the class where she was forced to remain all day with her pinny (apron) over her head. This was to the amusement of her new classmates and provided Phyllis with a complex, which she has never forgotten. Phyllis had never been to the church and of course did not know what a mass was. She was in effect, punished for her parents’ omission.
Father Dennis Murphy who brought about Phyllis’s move to St Joseph’s proved to be somewhat of a remarkable priest with considerable foresight.
In September 1931 he was moved to Yardley Wood. At this time the area was described as a lovely piece of countryside. There were very few Catholics living in the area and the parish was served by an ex army hut which was rented for £2.00 per week. They were required to share this hut with the local Anglican Church parishioners.
Father Murphy’s brief was to make provisions for a large influx of Irish people expected to move into the South West of Birmingham. He obtained lodgings with a local lady by the name of Mrs Callaghan.
By 1936 he had negotiated the purchase of land for a school near to Trittiford Lane. He also obtained a one acre site fronting Highters Heath Lane and Glenevon Road. The total cost being £5000.00.
This was very astute purchase, as this was to lead to the building of Our Lady of Lourdes School, Church and Presbytery.
Gaining further success with the building of the first St Jude’s Church at Druids Heath, Father Murphy died in 1970. When this land was eventually sold it realised sufficient monies to fund the building of the present St Jude’s.
To return to Phyllis, during the following years Phyllis carried out her learning in an atmosphere, she describes as very strict and often seemed unkind. In considering that, high standards were set and reached, she does however feel that certain elements make her sure she did receive a degree of animosity from both staff and pupils because of her ethnic background.
She excelled at English and always did well even though, "Her pen could not keep up with speed of her brain". This had the effect of her writing being thought to be Greek.
A memory that has been an inspiration for all her life came in an art class. The teacher was a very tall man, who was not a resident at the school.
Having started the class he would place an object such as a vase on a table and tell the class to draw it. After inspection he would allow them to paint their drawing. After one such lesson he inspected Phyllis’s effort and informed her she had missed something. He pointed out to her that the painting did not show where the light had struck the object. He said everything reflected light and she should always look for it. Since that time she has always looked for the light in everything
Despite the fact that her father was working, the family always looked for ways to bring more money into the house. This task often fell to Phyllis as the oldest. One such task would be to break up broken cases that her father would bring home from work at the railway. These would be broken up even further and put into small bundles, which she would then go door to door in the local streets to sell for 1d a bundle. (Less than 1/2p).
Across the road from her home was a small café. A woman called Mrs. Whitehouse, whose son worked at Rudders and Paynes in Cheston Street, owned this. As the school dinnertime in those days was noon to 2pm the lady asked Phyllis’s mother if she would take a bowl of dinner each day to the son.
This of course meant catching the tram to and from the factory. Phyllis remembers that the bowl was always wrapped in a red cloth on top of which, were two small plates with a pudding between.
The journey always had to be very carefully made so that the gravy did not spill. For this the family received 1shilling (5p) a week. This procedure was carried out for two years until Phyllis left school.
As part of the then school curriculum, classes from St Joseph's attended the nearby Charles Arthur Street School for Cookery and Laundry lessons. The first cookery lesson completed was cottage pie. She recalls taking one potato, one onion, one slice of corned beef, one oxo cube and a dish. It smelt so nice it was nearly eaten before she got home.
The laundry lesson provided her with the harsh lesson of how cruel other children can be. Each pupil had to supply one item for washing. Phyllis had been given an old pillowcase. Her class colleagues could only laugh at her finished result as due to its age it would never be fully white again. As she says," What did they expect? We were poor".
She is reminded that having few clothes, she always had to wear a pinny (apron) over her dress so that it would remain clean all week until it again could be washed.
Like all children, Phyllis and her school friends got into many scrapes, one nearly proving fatal. A group, were taking a short - cut across Johnny Wright’s sports-field on their way home, a place where they should not have been. Coming to a steep incline they all ran down. One of the girls in the group being unable to stop at the bottom ran onto some iron railings piercing her chin. Luckily the wound, though serious did heal but caused her to be away from school for some time. They never went that way again.
Whilst she did not take part Phyllis remembers that many of the local youths used to go swimming in the canals on a Sunday. She frequently heard the screams of mothers who had just been informed that her son had just been drowned.
Whilst still from poor homes all the children were expected to make donations to the “Black Babies” fund. The money going to provide care for children in far off lands, being cared for by the Missionary Orders. As a result all the girls had black dolls with which to play.
In one school raffle, Phyllis won a prize that kept her and all her family happy for one night at least. The prize? A chocolate doll!
As no biology lessons were given in the school the girls in the final year of the school, shortly before leaving, were as she puts it, "Taken into the back office and given a talking to".
Leaving school at 14 years of age Phyllis’s first job was at Powers Enamellers, Rocky Lane, later to be, The Hercules Cycle Factory. It lasted for one week. Her task was to solder cycle lamps. However the burr on the rough metal cut into her fingers, the solder got into the cuts and quickly caused infection.
During the First World War Phyllis’s mother had worked for Buttons Limited, Portland Street. Whilst there, the foreman, a Mr Green had promised that her that her first born child could always have a job there if she wanted. As Mr Green was still at Buttons, Phyllis was despatched to see if he would honour his promise. He did and she started her new job.
In order to raise more money for the family, her father became involved in the sale of Irish Raffle Tickets (An illegal practice at this time). From this he was able to obtain a little commission. After depositing a considerable amount of lottery money he received just over £14.00. Going to Phyllis’s mother, he said he was going to buy her a feather bed, knowing it had always been her wish to have one. Sadly after the arrival of the bed her mother was only to sleep in it once before being taken to hospital where she later died in 1932. She was 39 years of age.
As the oldest, Phyllis now had extra responsibility in the family. She moved to a better-paid job at Dunlops, Holly Lane, Erdington working either the 6am-2pm or 2pm 10pm shift. Her sister then took responsibility for the younger children in the family.
A vivid memory of this time is standing by the clock at Aston Cross at 5.30 in the morning with a 6d (2 1/2p) workman's return ticket, waiting for the first and only tram that would get her to work on time. She knew full well that if she was late she would be sent home and no pay would be earned that day.
At Dunlops she worked in the inner tube department, a very dirty job. Everybody would get covered in the chalk dust that was used in that particular process. As she was still wearing the customary black following the death of her mother it was not long before the foreman advised her to wear different coloured clothes for work and use the black at the weekends.
Responsible for her own food at this time she quickly identified that if she bought a 6d (2 1/2p) pork chop and a 3.1/2d cottage loaf, she could make a doorstep of a sandwich, which would provide her with the energy to get through the day.
It was somewhat ironic that at 18 years of age she was now earning more than her father who by this time was driving a 12-wheel vehicle for the Railway.
Serious problems arose when the younger sister, who assisted Phyllis with the family, decided to go to Dublin to work for a cousin. This of course threw the responsibility back at Phyllis who, if she had to care for the family, would lose her job.
Phyllis Arnold. Nee Farina.
Who attended St Joseph's School
between 1923 and 1928.
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On her own initiative she contacted the Welfare Department of Dunlops. In charge were a Captain Monk and a Nurse Morriarty. They, seeing the problem, arranged for all the youngest children to be taken into the care of Father Hudson's Homes at Coleshill. This greatly upset Mr Farina, who of course wanted his family to stay together.
It was fortunate that this awful predicament did not last too long. Her sister came back from Dublin, the children came home and Phyllis continued to work at Dunlops.
During the outset of the Second World War, several of the younger children would be evacuated to Ashby de la Zouche and billeted with families there. Contact has been retained to this date with friends they made whilst there.
Phyllis moved away from the house in Lichfield Road for the first time when she married in 1935.
She had again looked for the light and found it.
More from Phyllis
At the time of putting these memories together, Easter 2002 has just passed. I remember Easter 1922. (In Phyllis's own words)
In those days Good Friday was a very special day. All the factories and shops closed. It did not seem to matter what religion you were, everybody seemed to eat fish that day. You could get fish and chips for about 2 pence (1/2 p) or if you had been to the market you could have bought a large cod fillet for 6 pence (2 1/2 p)
The Saturday before Easter Sunday would be spent getting ourselves prepared for the following day. Our best clothes would be ready and our shoes made to look new, using a whitener of course, not leather shoes for us in those days. There would be Easter eggs of many different kinds.
We would expect to visit grannies and aunts and of course a picnic might take place. A picnic recipe might be 1 tall tin of Parsley Brand Salmon, about 1s 9p (just under 10 new pence). 2 cottages loaves and ½ lb of best butter in a tub. There would also be several bottles of R White’s Lemonade, Sarsaparilla and herbal drinks. All purchased from Wiseman’s at Aston Cross.
My next real recollection of Easter is round about 1932 when I was able to buy an Easter egg, which was as big as a shoebox. I can remember paying 4 old pence (Approx.1 ½ p).
Being the eldest of 8 children in the family, I did a lot of the shopping for my mother. At that time Lichfield Road had many shops to choose from. My mother had all her own favourite ones, which I was instructed to use. I can remember some of them. It was always Mountfords, for the dripping cakes at 4 for 3 ½ pence (approx 1p) Egg and bacon, were from the Irishman’s on the corner of Portland Street. Meat, from Simms, near Aston Station. 2s 6p(12 ½ p) would buy a nice leg of lamb. From Smith’s at the end of our yard you would get freshly made cottage loaves, and from Thompson’s, the pork butcher, you would buy the Rosemary leaf lard, to spread on the bread when it was cut. I was usually still hungry after my lard sandwiches so I would ask my mother if we could have bread and margarine for the last slice. That usually filled me up. On Sundays we would have some Madeira cake from Perks’s near to where we lived at 5 back of 92 Lichfield Road.. Though we were quite poor, we never went hungry.
I do remember that in 1935 I joined the Co-op and even today, still recall my dividend number, 100325. Any “ Divi” that was received invariably went on family clothes for school.
In 1939 the war came and Good Fridays and Easter Sundays never seemed the same again. Fruiters had to try and produce all day and night. We always had to queue for all types of food, especially fish, because it was not on ration books. On one occasion I remember buying whale meat, from a butchers. It looked like liver and was 2s 6p (12 ½ p) a llb. We cooked it with onions. We used to get tins of fish, some times red and pink salmon. This we would mix together. We would also mix the little bit of butter we received, with margarine; I suppose this was to make us think we had best butter. When English tomatoes came into the shops I would queue to buy one. This would be cut up very thin and go to making 4 sandwiches.
One weekend it was my turn to be able to buy meat, as opposed to the corned beef, which was on ration. However a bomb fell in the Roadway outside Midlands Counties Dairy. This in turn threw all the trams lines up in a figure of 8 shapes. Everybody came to look at the shape. It also fractured the gas main. No meat on that occasion! As my mother directed me as to which shops I was to obtain certain produce from, I still find I do the same when my family call to help me with the weekly shopping. Old habits etc….
During the latter years of my working life I became a State Registered Assistant Nurse at All Saints Hospital, Winson Green, Birmingham. When I started the Matron and her Deputy were Scottish. I remember that you could never speak to them unless they addressed you. All very strict, severe and formal.
After a while they left and a man became Head Nurse. After that things took on a more of an informal nature, with male nurses being allowed to work on women’s wards and female nurses on men’s.
I was still at the Hospital when a Miss Jean McGloughlin became matron. I found her to be an extremely well educated lady, who was also a very good teacher. I found that she had a far- reaching view on Mental Health treatment. She would say to us, “In the future a considerable amount of patients with mental illness will be treated within the community”. 40 years on she has been proved to be right.
I think I am right in saying that one young lady, who worked in the Hospitals Admin Department went on to be part of the Applejacks pop group.
My time in the Hospital taught me many things about people in particular and life in general. We sometimes moan about how life is for us and how it could be so much better. Having spent so much time with too many unfortunate people with mental illnesses, I know we sometimes do not realise how much good fortune God has already given us.
After my mother died in 1932 my life was taken up looking after my brothers and sisters and working at Dunlops on both the 6am-2pm or 2pm-10pm shift. This continued until 1935 when I met a fellow who seemed a lovely sort, so I married him.
We lived in two rooms for four years before the Council gave us a house in Bromford. It was lovely a semi-detached, with a garden. It cost 10/4d per week. (About 51½ p). By now I had three daughters. I remember thinking how lucky we were to get the house. In those days you would only get them if you were in regular work. My husband seemed to enjoy a considerable amount of bad health. The allocation of the house came at a time when he was working. ( I do not think we would have been allocated if they had been aware of his health record).
On the 13th August 1940 the war had been going on for just under one year, when a whistling bomb hit the house wrecking it. We had been in it for 13 weeks. Everything in the garden was destroyed, except a dahlia, named “Pride of Berlin” which was the only plant that had remained standing after the blast. Under two bricks we also found our Canary safe. It would later die during a thunder- storm.
My husband was sent to join the RAF. However due to his on going health problems he was posted to a site high up in the Welsh Mountains. Here there was a mock up of Liverpool Docks built on straw bales. It was hoped this would act as a decoy for German bombers seeking to bomb the real docks. It would seem it never came into use and was demolished after the war.
After suffering three years of air raids, queues and coupons, I decided to take my children to live in a bungalow, (it was actually a holiday chalet) in Wales near the seashore at Prestatyn.
Here we were able to sleep peacefully at night. This though, was not always the case. Because we were near to the shore, there were a lot of high fences and mines to protect against sea invasion. Occasionally a mine would explode for some reason or other and cover our home in sand and other bit of rubble. The explosions would also blow things off our shelves. Just nature’s way of reminding us, we were at war.
Come 1946 and we could return to Birmingham with the promise “Peace forever”. My younger brothers came back from Ashby from where they had been evacuated to. My other two sisters had been with the Land Army.
I still think back to the early tragic days for the little ones of my family. When my mother died in 1932, four were under school age. Knowing that many other families suffered similar situations, I often think we received very little help from either councils or churches.
In 1970, when I was 55, I was diagnosed with Cancer of the Colon at Birmingham General Hospital. I was frankly told, “A bag or a box”. I though I would put my faith in God and decided to have the Colostomy operation. I was warned I would probably have another 20 years. On reaching 80, I thought I cant’ push my luck too far, I had better get prepared.
I contacted the local Co-op funeral Parlour and said I wanted information about pre-paid funerals. They said they would send someone to see me. On the day arranged, a very sombre man dressed in full funeral black turned up to discus the arrangements and necessary cost. I could hardly keep a straight face, as living in and old age pensioners block, I wondered if he had come in a funeral car and that this might be upsetting my neighbours who would be trying to guess “who had gone”.
My tip to anyone who does not want to be a burden on the next of kin, do what I have done. I paid it up over one year. So now have now worries. Only one problem, you do not get any “Divi”.
The Lichfield Road
When talking to Phyllis it has always been clear that she had very strong memories of her childhood and early teens living in the Aston area. With that thought, I asked her if she would like to draw up a list of the shops that she remembered on the Lichfield Road, near to where she lived.
This list has now been completed. Phyllis is of the opinion that it is fairly accurate, but adds, time does sometimes play little tricks on the memory as one gets older. She would like you, if you can, to let her know, through me, if she has missed any, or placed them out of order.
To set the scene, Phyllis lived in Cromwell Square, Lichfield Road. This was a small terrace, which, would have been near to Upper Portland Street. You may recall that Upper Portland Street ran from Lichfield Road to Victoria Road.
In the main the area to be covered in this particular article is Lichfield Road, from near to Aston Railway Station, to Aston Cross, at the junction with Park Lane. I will commence our journey just inside Park Lane. Here was situated a Billiard Hall.
At the other end of Park Lane near to The Barton Arms, was of course the Aston Hippodrome. Here one Friday night for the princely sum of 6d (21/2p), Phyllis watched a young trumpet player, tell his audience during his show, that having been married for over 12 years, he had just been told that his wife was expecting a baby they had wanted so much. His name? Eddie Calvert. Later to become famous with the record, “O My Papa” She would see a number of stars there. Another one being, Arthur Tracy, the “Street Singer”.
Back to out memory Lane trip. As we turn into Lichfield Road from Park Lane we find several Co-op shops. These were followed by a shop, which made and sold harnesses and other such items for horses. Then came Perks the Grocers.
Some may now recall at this time, Park Road continued up the hill at the side of where Gerard Mann, The Mercedes Dealer now is. Then of course the road carried straight down to the general direction of Witton. We will move past there now and back into Lichfield Road, still on the out of city side of the road.
Whilst the exact site the following shops may be in doubt, the type of goods or services they supplied is not. A gramophone shop called Beresford’s. Here they still had some of the old gramophones that came with the big Horn for the sound. There was also a coffee shop, where the tram drivers would stop and go in with their enamel cans to collect the tea they would drink at the outer terminus. This particular café had a lovely, highly polished brass bar, which you pushed to open the door.
Then came Wiseman’s Herbal drinks. Here Phyllis used to go to collect, Sarsaparilla, which her father would take with him to drink on his fishing days out.
There was Morgan’s the Butcher. It would seem at one stage there might have been an abattoir, at the back. Next to this was a coffee shop, which always had a fine display of cooked meats. No doubt supplied by Morgan.
Next there was Ladies dress shop. It was here that Phyllis, with her first pocket money from work, bought her first bra. She adds she didn’t like the liberty bodices they were too tight. Then you come to Provident Westward, Grain Merchants. Here you could always see the grain in large Hessian sacks. Then another Butchers, Mountfords. Here you could purchase dripping cakes, 4 for 31/2d. (1 1/2papprox)
Then came the Cobblers Shop. Outside you would always find a side of leather. Phyllis would always take time to sniff the leather as she walked past. She can still remember the smell to this day. Her father used to buy a side of leather for 1s9d (8p approx) to repair the family’s shoes. There was the Public Benefit Shoe Shop. Here was purchased by Phyllis, her Sahara Sandals. These were very comfortable, she recalls.
We now reach the junction with Upper Portland Street. At the top of Upper Portland Street was Victoria Road Police Station.
Across Portland Street and we come to a tailor’s shop called Puttsman. This would later become Whitbread’s. After this was another small terrace of houses. For some reason or other, these were referred to as the, “Posh” Houses. Next came Frost’s Clothes Shop. This was followed by, Evans the Butcher. It was from here Phyllis occasionally had to collect a small steak. To eat? No. Her father used to do a little boxing to try and earn more money. He would box under the name of Mark Green. On those odd occasions he received a black eye, the steak would be put to medicinal use.
The grocers’ next door was always called the “Irishmen’s” Probably due to the fact 2 Irishmen owned it. Then came a licensed house nicknamed “The Widows”. Somewhere about this point was Barnes Grocers. Mrs Barnes was renowned for not giving anything away. It was therefore a great surprise to all the locals when one day she opened a large wooden box and handed out sweets. The occasion? The announcement that the 1914-1918 war had just ended.
The following shops, were also on the out of city side of Lichfield Road, Smith’s the Bakers. This was situated near to Cromwell Square. The Gas mantle shop. Already mentioned in earlier stories. This eventually became, Thompson’s Butchers. Hills the Drapers, eventually Goldbergs. From Jones the Grocers, Phyllis would buy some of the 1st English Apples to arrive every July. A luxury at 21/2d (just about 1p) Then followed, Keyte’s the Butchers. The Guns, Licensed House. There was then another yard with about 20 houses; it was called something like Swindler’s Yard.
Next there was the Westlyn Church. The front door being in Lichfield Road, the rear door being in Victoria Road. Next came Bott’s the Fish Shop. The owner apparently was always in debtors prison for non-payment of rates. It would seem he would often ensure that the hungry people of the area always had some thing to eat, often without payment. This in effect meant he made little or no profit from his shop, hence no bills paid.
Following on from there was a Newsagents shop. Name not remembered. Then came Cashmores, Glass and China. There was also Royal London Insurance Office.
Near to the corner of Victoria Road was Buckingham’s Chemists Shop. On the other side of Victoria Road was Ilsley, Coal Merchants. Coal was 1/9d for 1 cwt. (8pApprox). You could borrow a barrow for 4d to take it home. There followed a few more houses. Doctor Awad Sudki had a surgery somewhere near this point. He shared the practise with a female partner, Doctor Roseali. He had graduated from the Queens Hospital, Bath Row, later The Accident Hospital. He lived until he was 90 years old. He diagnosed Phyllis as suffering from Scarlet fever when she was 7. This meant a period in the Isolation Hospital at Little Bromwich for her. He explained to the family he believed she had caught the infection from the milk, which at this time was sold in open buckets and pails from Barnes Grocers shop. He considered that dust from the grain store and horses feed bags, had contaminated the open milk vessels. You will remember that horses were a main source of pulling power at this time.
Phyllis, who was registered with the Doctor till she was 56, remembers that the milk was always delivered in churns to Barnes Shop from the dairy in Vicarage Road. The delivery driver was a little stocky man, who had a hook where one of his hands should have been. A legacy from being wounded in the First World War. It will suffice to say that from 1921 onwards milk commenced to be delivered in bottles.
Before examining the shops from Aston Cross on the into city side it is worth mentioning that where the former BRMB Radio Studios were, stood the Aston Theatre. Here for 4d you could have watched Will Hay; from up in the “gods” There was also a Woolworth’s, which in 1933, boasted everything for 6d. A post office was also in that particular area.
We will now travel out of city along the Lichfield Road, looking at the premises on our right side of the road beginning with The Golden Cross on the corner of Rocky Lane. This was followed by Randall’s’, the Printers. Then a Gents outfitter, where on sales days, you could purchase a dress shirt for 6d. Then came Jeff’s, the Coffee House. Then The Aston Picture House. This was near to Catharine Street.
There was then another doctor’s Surgery. Doctor Gouverich, a Russian. His son would later follow in the practice. The doctor was well known around the area due to the fact he always wore a fur coat. On the corner of Catharine Street was the Welfare Centre
If we move on to the area at the top of Wainright Street, you may remember this was a very wide expanse of road. Phyllis remembers it, as being a large cobbled area with a horse trough in the middle. It was in fact almost identical to a similar layout at Gosta Green, near to where the Sack of Potatoes Licensed House now stands.
On the other side of Wainright Street was a Chemist. From here you could purchase your Wincarnis Stout. Into this you would insert a red-hot poker. It was believed this would help replace any iron that was missing from your body. A Fish and Chip shop followed. Next to which was a newsagents shop. To gain entrance to the shop you actually had to go down a flight of stairs. Here you could by 1 ounce of twist tobacco for 8d. It is understood that the Claribel Coach firm, which is still around today, started from these premises.
There then followed Brown’s Shoe Shop. Here you could buy your patent leather shoes. This shop later became the very first Matty’s Radio Shop in Birmingham. Of course many more were to follow. It would seem local residents at first complained of noise from the radios. Next came a picture framing shop. It was to this shop that Phyllis’s father would bring his Mary Magdellen picture frame for repair, after it had been vibrated off the wall by the sausage making machine in Thompson’s the Pork Butchers. Next came the coffee shop from which Phyllis had to collect and deliver a lunch to Cheston Street every school day for the two years. You will remember Phyllis mentioned this earlier.
We are now near to Sandy Lane. Here there were some houses called the Palisades. Also Dyson Hall, were you would go to see magic lantern shows. Other houses were present and also a picture house known affectionately as “the flea pit”. This later closed and re-opened as a billiard hall. We will now end our tour at what is now the Britannia Public House.
I hope that there has been something in this particular item which has stirred a memory for you. If you can correct, alter or add anything, tell me. Memory can and will play tricks over time. Both I, and Phyllis want this to be as accurate as possible.
My time at All Saints Hospital
About 1955 I started work at All Saints Hospital, Winson Green, as an assistant. At that time it was referred to by all, as a mental hospital. The correct term, now of course, would be, a Psychiatric Hospital. Whilst I had previously worked in a similar hospital at Highcroft Hall, Erdington, I was like many of the other assistants there, untrained for the job I was to do.
I remember first of all the travel. When I had worked at Highcroft, it had only been a short distance from my home. To get to All Saints, I had to travel on the number 11 Outer Circle bus route to Winson Green. This journey at times could take up to 1 hour due to the traffic, through Erdington, Witton and Perry Barr.
I had long felt sympathy for those who suffered from the various forms of mental illness and thanked God, that I had not so been afflicted. I was to form the opinion that many people with whom, I came into contact every day did not feel the same. On one such occasion this was brought home to me. I was travelling to work on the number 11 bus. As we came towards Stockland Green, I was aware that all the traffic had stopped. I could see that not only my bus had been stopped but also others including those that used the Slade Road route.
After a short while I saw a naked man running around the streets. Police and other people were trying to catch him. Eventually they did. It was obvious that he must be suffering from some mental disorder or other. It seemed to me that the majority of people, both on the bus and on the pavements were either having a good laugh or moaning about the traffic congestion he actions had caused. I later discovered that he was a patient at Highcroft Hospital, who had made known his intention to throw himself under a City Transport bus. On his escape all bus drivers were being warned to stop their buses until he could be apprehended. I did not hear many voices raised in sympathy for him . It made me feel how no one wanted to know or in fact, care about why he had taken the action he had.
When I started at All Saints there were 1008 patients. Over the years I would be there this figure would greatly reduce. We were told that nursing duties would include all aspects involving domestic work involved within the hospital such as washing floors, cleaning windows etc. The patients, who were able, were also given cleaning tasks like sweeping staircases and laundry work. For this they received pocket money weekly, which they could spend on sweets from local shops. Some of the money they could keep in credit.
At this time you could never speak to Matron unless she spoke to you first. This meant that on Ward Visits by her, we would be quiet, very quiet! Everywhere I went I carried the ward door keys with me. All doors had to be kept locked and if they had to leave the hospital premises for any reason, patients had to be chaperoned. When The Matron eventually retired, Miss J. McLaughlin replaced her. With her came the start of very progressive ideas.
Very quickly bathrooms were built on to each ward. This meant that the old bathroom block, on the ground floor, which had contained 10 baths, could be altered and made into a launderette, this to be part of rehabilitation programmes, Matron wanted to run. Many of the previously locked doors were now unlocked. Marks and Spencer came in to help the patients choose their own clothes, shoes and where necessary, handbags.
Visits both local and to places like Worcester began to be arranged for suitable patients, they, with their sandwiches and tea urns would go off in their coaches, happy to be enjoying a little bit of life again. Groups of suitable patients were formed into training groups and taught skills such as housework, cooking, cleaning shopping etc that could befit them when they were fit to be discharged. I was in charge one of those groups and really enjoyed helping them to stand on their own two feet as far as possible.
I mentioned that I was untrained for the work I was carrying out. I was offered the chance to go to the training school, after I had been there a while. I took into account that I was still raising my four children and the added problems the training would present and therefore declined. Matron however, looked at the situation and introduced the system that certain assistants, who had at least 5 years service, on the wards, could become Registered Assistants. I was one of the ones appointed.
Matron always impressed me. I marvelled at her endless knowledge of mental health problems and possible cures. She considered that at least 80% of the patients would benefit from rehabilitation treatment. The informality that she introduced after the rigid discipline I had previously experienced, made for a much happier working environment, from which I am sure the patients benefited.
The introduction of the industrial therapy groups, in my opinion, was a great success. Training in hairdressing, making garden slabs in the Concrete Department and even training with make up was tried. The patients were actively encouraged to attend and improve both their skill base and thereby, their confidence. Of course some were not able, due to the problem they had. Those that were able, were, at the very least, stimulated, and at the best, given skills and greater confidence to face the outside world.
Over the time I was there, the care in the community continued to happen. Though it was not called that at this time. Matron had always said that within a very few years a considerable number of hospitals, such as ours would go and people with many psychiatric illnesses would be dealt with within the community. She has proved to be correct.
An Accommodation Officer was appointed, to seek out suitable premises, whereby those patients, who could live outside the hospital would reside. This was probably the start of people being returned to the community, and not kept apart from them where it was not necessary. I know that many of the large houses in Handsworth were identified as being suitable housing for many of our patients. These being the ones, that had been deemed capable of living out, and most suitable to travel by public transport to the hospital every day on their own for their treatment.
Gradually our bed numbers reduced. There were many problems on both sides. There is little doubt that those, not so well equipped, experienced difficulties with some of the landlords of the properties. Whilst it of course did not apply to all, some, I believe took advantage of their residents. The staff tried their best to help and often got quite upset at some patients being discharged, who clearly were not equipped for the outside world.
I have always considered that the assessment of such people identified as suitable, must be made on an individual basis and not a generalised course of action, as has been the case in some instances. This has left some very vulnerable people open to exploitation of some type or other.
Eventually the hospital was closed completely. We all felt that there was still a need for such establishments to meet the needs of those who should not be thrown to the mercy of agencies and people who can not be bothered or who are ill equipped to cope with the often silent demands of patients with some form of psychiatric need.
Observing the number of cases that are mentioned in the media, where people have not only suffered, but either died in terrible conditions or caused the death of some one else, I still see the need of an establishment that will deal with them. It is no use saying the community will look after them. The community, in the main, still see the naked man trying to throw himself under a bus, and their only concern will be, “ It has made me late” or “What a laugh. Look at that idiot”. “It is nothing to do with me. It is someone else’s problem”.
Phyllis worked at All Saints Hospital for 15 years.
Miss Winnie Martin was a teacher at St Joseph's School from September 1945 until 1966 when she married and moved away from Birmingham. The following is from an interview with her for inclusion in a School reunion newsletter due to be published in November 2002. A photograph of Winnie and other some of the other people mentioned in this piece, is included on the photographs from past page. Winnie taught in the Infant School.
Winnie Martin was born on the 5th October 1924. She lived with her Pharmacist father, Walter and teacher mother, Agnes, at Martin’s Chemists Shop, Golden Hillock Road, Small Heath. It would seem that Winnie had been born into a family of Teachers, as many of her relatives were in the teaching profession.
She started School at The Holy Family on the Coventry Road before eventually moving to St Paul’s Grammar School, Edgbaston. On leaving St Paul’s, Winnie attended Birmingham University, where for two years, she undertook a Teacher Training Course. She says her father, who had fought in the 1st World War, wanted her to be a teacher because she would not then have to go into the services. The 2nd World War was still going on at this time. Having completed and passed the course, Winnie was told that come September, (1945) she would be posted to a Small Heath School, near to Birmingham City Football Ground. Armed with this information she went off on holiday to Durham.
It was now that the fate of young Winnie was to be decided without her knowing. Sr Alfreda, from St Joseph’s had heard, Winnie was leaving college and poor old Fr Poulton came round to Small Heath on the Inner Circle bus route. It must be remembered that he was now getting on a little bit, but he clearly thought here was a chance to snatch a good young teacher for St Joseph’s.
On reaching the house he found that Winnie was away. What he did find out was that many years before, as a young priest, he had married Winnie’s parents. Her father sat him down and within a very short time (and a couple of whiskeys later) He went away, assured by Winnie’s father, that come September she would start at St Joseph’s.
On her return from holiday Winnie agreed to the request and she went to the Education Office to get their approval. This she did, despite their efforts to persuade her not to, saying that it was a dreadful old school and was she sure of her decision. She did not say that it was her father’s idea. As she remembers, “I just trusted in the Lord and never regretted it”.
Fr Liam Bouchier, the then Curate, completed all the relevant paperwork and always said she was the first teacher he signed up. Two other, now well-known names joined the following year, these were Myra Scally and Agnes Sidebottom.
Winnie has many memories of the school. One she recalls about a young girl in one of her classes who was somewhat enamoured by a classmate, Michael Freeth. She could however not pronounce the letter R and so called him Michael Thief! Many of the other children were real characters. She believes that given the time she could probably tell a tale about them all. Some of the names she is able to recall are Mary Bailey, a tall girl, who lived near the convent on Nechells Park Road. The Gleesons, Jimmy and Betty Grey, Teresa and Peter Bridger, Peter Mulvihill, the Waplingtons, Dominic Reagan, David Windall, the Taroni family.
There were also some tough times. It proved very difficult at times to obtain the services of qualified Catholic Teachers. This was particularly so after Miss Norah Grundy, another famous St Joseph’s teacher, retired. At one stage, only one fully qualified teacher was able to assist Winnie. This was Madge Roberts. She was a Baptist and part of her role was to assist Sr Alfreda in a supply role. She proved a wonderful support for Winnie.
Another person fondly remembered by Winnie, was, Mrs Sammons, who would be also of considerable help to Sr Alfreda during her latter years at St Joseph’s. Mrs Sammons did in fact take over the reception class. Here she gave her young charges a very good start that enabled them to be ready for the formal teaching that would follow. Many of these children had come directly over from Ireland and were in fact lost for many months in their new environment. Some could hardly speak English. A Mrs Pittaway and a Mrs Thomas both assisted with music and drama.
A fond recollection is also made to Nellie Hughes, a parishioner, who proved a wonderful “dinner lady” on the daily trek to Charles Arthur Street School. Her assistance to the teachers during the lunch break was greatly appreciated.
Through all this time Winnie had continued to live in Golden Hillock Road. However with her father’s retirement, she moved to Sheldon. At about the same time as Father Bouchier became the Parish Priest at St Thomas Moore, she remembers that in doing so, he only possessed a Parish Hall and No Church! Things did change for the better for him though. It would seem that Father Timlin, who had become Parish Priest at St Joseph’s after Father Slade, managed to get St Joseph’s painted and decorated and fitted out with new benches. Where did the old benches end up? That’s right, with Father Bouchier.
In 1966 Winnie left the school to get married and become Mrs Spence. Having gone to live in Wakefield, West Yorkshire she did not teach full time again. In 1971 her husband took early retirement and they went off to live in Tenerife. Their happiness was to be short lived as in 1973 he suffered a sudden heart attack and died.
By now Winnie loved the island so much she stayed there. She helped start an English speaking Legion of Mary Group. She also taught First Communion children in a non-denominational school.
Winnie returned to this country in 2000 for an operation and decided to stay. She now lives in her own very nice flat in the Walmley District of Sutton Coldfield.
In my discussions with Winnie, she mentioned a number of former teachers who she worked with at St Joseph’s. One was Miss Norah Grundy, of whom she says,” I learnt more about teaching from Norah than any University ever taught me”.
It would seem that Norah Grundy was years ahead of her time. Fr Bouchier would no doubt agree, as he would often creep into her class (He would go up the side entry and sit at the back) to listen to the Religious Education lesson at 9a.m. The children, so engrossed, thought he had just come in at the end of the lesson.
Norah travelled widely in the holidays and was a joy to listen to. She had entered a convent in Wolverhampton for about a year but discovered it was not for her.
She never talked about it like so many others have done to make money. The only thing she did say to Winnie was, that the nuns teaching in schools often had really no idea of the hardships that the children suffered. She was always doing something for the poorest of the families, and there were so many. She even got those who were a "bit better off" to help these kids with fathers, either ill, lazy or in prison.
She spent her last teaching years raising funds for the Teacher's Benevolent Society for their home near Trentham Gardens Staffordshire for sick and retired teachers.
Norah retired in 1951 and moved into a lovely bungalow near Butlers lane Station Sutton Coldfield with a friend of long standing from Wolverhampton. Norah, who had suffered migraines so often, became much stronger. Winnie suspects that this was due to being free of coke fumes. Her friend unfortunately had a heart attack and died suddenly.
Norah was no housekeeper and hated cooking so she thought she would be happier at Longton (The Retirement Home) even though the rooms were little more than cubicles off long corridors, from the beautiful central house. Winnie thinks the large ground floor rooms were sumptuous and that the residents spent most of their time there.
Norah however hated it and told her when she visited " Winnie, I would never have raised a penny for this place had 1 known what it would be like to be surrounded by 48 teachers who had never been anywhere or done anything really worthwhile" Fr Bouchier went to see her and got the local Parish Priest to go regularly.
After 15 years there she died around 1982 well over 90 years old having spent most of the time in her "cubicle."
A year after Winnie joined St Joseph’s, Fr Bouchier came into the Infant staff room. Norah Grundy and Winnie were present. It was just before summer holiday 1946. Father said “An Irish teacher is coming to start here in September (Myra Scally). She has spent a year in a very superior girls boarding school teaching the elite and hates it! Where can we suggest she lives?”
Very quickly with her alert mind, Norah suggested Mrs Lavelles’s. in Priory Road, at least for the short term, until she found a place to her liking.
Myra Scally came and stayed with the Lavelles for the rest of her life! Later, whilst Winnie was living in Tenerife, Miss Scally and Josephine, Mrs Lavelles’s daughter, visited her on a holiday.
The First Communion Certificate displayed in the photograph section of this site, is that of Winifred Lavelle, who, became Miss Scally’s landlady.
Miss Scally had actually taught at Marlborough Boarding School. Prior to coming to St Joseph’s. At her time of leaving, one pupil had been The Spanish Ambassador’s Daughter. Miss Scally is buried in the graveyard at St Joseph’s.
Winnie sadly recalls that May White, another teacher, was knocked down by a Midland Red bus, when she was recklessly trying to jump on to it whilst it was moving off. Betty Dobbin, who many of our older members remember, fell onto an electric fire and received injuries, which caused her death.
Winnie believes that Sr Alfreda died around 1980.
She was happy to relate that Fr Liam Bouchier is still alive and very happy near his old family home in Cavan. He says mass in the little depleted parish where he had been an altar boy. He lives in the fine well-built presbytery where he still welcomes many Birmingham visitors in the summers He is well over 80 years old.
Again I hope these memories of a former teacher reminds you of people you may have known.
A legend in her own school time.
One of the most popular teachers ever to grace St Joseph's was Miss Agnes Sidebottom. I interviewed her during my research on the book, Where Buildings Once Stood. The following is a direct lift from my book.
When you speak to any former pupils who attended St Joseph’s School between 1945 and 1959, the name of one teacher always comes to the fore, Miss Sidebottom. Even pupils who attended school, after she left, are aware of the esteem in which she was held.
Whilst I was at the school, many of us were in awe of her, (in my case also a little bit of fear) Once in her class though and again in latter years you realised that in her presence you had experienced positive teaching.
She is now retired and living in the Worcester area. I had the privilege of meeting up with her and spending an afternoon with this remarkable lady and listening to her speak about her time as a teacher and what she has achieved since.
Agnes Sidebottom was born in Lancashire. Her parents moved to the Worcester area when she was still very young. She first attended St Ambose’s School, Kidderminster before completing her education at Kidderminster High School.
On leaving school she attended a Teacher Training College in the North East of the country, where after three years training, she decided that she would look for a teaching post in Birmingham. Within a very short time she had received two good offers. One was in a letter from Sister Margaret, the headmistress of St Joseph’s. She quickly decided that this was the position she wanted and took up post in charge of the 12 plus age group in 1945.
At this time Sister Margaret taught the final class in the school and continued to do so until a change in education rules concerning the number of pupils in school, saw her move to a management role. During this time the school leaving age rose from 14 to 15 years. Miss Sidebottom moved to take charge of the final year class.
Being very keen on sport, Agnes took charge of many sporting issues. Having gained qualification as both a swimming teacher and lifesaver, she took her classes to Nechells Baths for their instruction.
Getting to the Baths in those days meant walking. A memory of one such walk recalls that whilst passing a local public house in Nechells Park Road, a man fell out of the door, as she puts it, “being very ill”. The class were appalled at this, having probably never seeing such an incident before, despite the poor conditions many of them experienced at that time. I do not think many would take the slightest bit of notice today.
It would seem that at times it was not only the pupils who came under Agnes’s steely gaze, but the priests at St Joseph’s Church also came in for chastisement from her. One such occasion was at the Baths. Having been instructed in the do's and do not's of who could swim where in the Baths, one priest allowed a non swimmer to jump in the deep-end, where he had to be pulled out by a class mate, who could swim. It is still not certain who received the strongest lecture, the priest or the pupil!
She still remembers the times she had to referee school football matches. It does seem that whenever this occurred, one of the priests from the church would arrive pitch side giving advice about blowing the whistle. Advice that was not always correct! When the match finished they had usually left to avoid further confrontation.
One of Agnes’s proudest moments was when her pupils won the Catholic School Shield in the yearly Catholic Sports. At this time the sports were held at the Mitchell and Butlers Sports Ground, Portland Road, Edgbaston. In later years they would be moved to Salford Stadium.
There was however a down side- having won the shield, which was very large, the team had to get it home. Having no private transport, they had to transport it by bus all the way back to the Convent in Nechells Park Road. Catching two buses, the pupils having to take turns, two at a time, they eventually achieved their aim under the watchful direction of Agnes.
It would seem the following morning two of the nuns had to get a taxi to assist them in getting the shield to school.
When the time came for the school to undergo internal decoration, one classroom would be completed at a time. The pupils, together with their teacher, would go into the church for lessons until such time as the classroom was completed. On one occasion Agnes’s class found themselves so disposed. Whilst participating in the lesson all were rather concerned when a man came into the church and going to the congregation candle stands, proceeded to fill each and every holder with a candle, which was then lit. Not having seen any money being exchanged for the candles, the priest was sent for. It would seem that having taken too much of the “hard stuff”, the candle lighter was hoping to obtain penance by lighting the candles.
On a more sombre note, one day Agnes and another teacher overheard a pupil, who came from a large family and who did not have the best of dwellings, saying to a classmate, “I am going thieving. At least if I get caught I will get a bed of my own”. Sadly this pupil would eventually fall foul of the law and get his wish, though that would be some years hence.
Throughout her time at St Joseph’s, Agnes had lodged with Mr and Mrs Walsh in Austin Street, Nechells. She still has connections with the family to this day.
After being at St Joseph’s for 14 years Agnes decided it was time for change and applied for and was accepted at Archbishop Masterson Girls School, West Heath. She left St Joseph’s at the same time as Sister Marguerite, who was also moving to Archbishop Masterson, as Headteacher.
Agnes had also considered applying for a post at Cardinal Newman School. However just before she submitted her application, part of the building collapsed. Not wishing to tempt providence she never submitted it.
On joining her new school, Agnes became head of Dressmaking and Needlework. This was in addition to her normal teaching duties. Agnes would remain at this school until she retired in 1986 as the Deputy Head Teacher. All in all, she had completed 41 years in her profession.
Throughout her working life, and since, she has continued to enhance her own education. This has taken many forms either taking further courses at Birmingham University, or travel and visits to other countries, where she has been able to embrace her love of history with religious sites.
Miss Agnes Sidebottom
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Since leaving Archbishop Masterson it is not accurate to say she has fully retired, because she is still involved in many issues. Had she been carrying out the same, whilst at work, I doubt she would have had time to go to school.
She has achieved a lifelong ambition to learn to play the clarinet and has joined a clarinet group who play for their own enjoyment in both public and private venues.
In the early days of retirement, she also became involved with Further Education and taught open age pupils with “Slow learning” on a one to three basis. She also gave up some of her time, teaching swimming to children of the Cadbury’s staff. These activities are now no longer pursued.
In her home area she assists with activities for the blind by being involved with “talking newspapers”. As she says “I cannot sit around. It would drive me mad”.
Agnes has visited many countries on her travels. Canada, Australia, Switzerland, Italy. Poland, Hungary and Western Turkey, are only a few of the places she has enjoyed.
Agnes clearly has many fond memories of her days at St Joseph’s and remembers many former pupils and their families. During my visit to her I half expected her to take my writing, check it and give me marks out of 10. A truly wonderful lady who inspired many of us in the short time we were under her control. A word was the only cane she ever needed.
19th April 2007 I have just been informed that Agnes has had to enter a nursing home due to severed health problems. It would seem that she resisted the move until the very last moment. A very strong minded lady.
Miss Frances Vaughan holds rather a unique position as having been both a pupil and teacher at St Joseph’s School.
Frances was born in 1914 at 60 Bloomsbury Street Nechells. She was to be the eldest of six children born to her father Daniel, a police officer and mother, Elizabeth, a teacher.
On reaching school age, Frances attended St Joseph’s School were she was to remain until she passed her scholarship exam, which saw her move to St Paul’s, Hagley Road. She was one of only two girls to pass the exam. The other being Teresa Carney. Teresa’s sister, May would later become the Headmistress of The Sacred Heart School, Aston.
During her time as a pupil at St Joseph’s, Frances recalls the following teachers. In the Infant School the Headmistress was Sister Marie. The other teachers were Miss Grundy, Miss Downey, Miss Maguire, Mrs Lord.
In the senior section of the Girls School, Mother Dunstan was Head, assisted by Miss Dicks, (who is remembered as having a nice singing voice), Miss Dobyn, Miss Guiney and Miss White.
Mr Meehan was Head of boys’ section assisted by Miss Kilmartin, Miss Corbett, Mr Wells and Mr O’Loughlin.
Frances remembers that she and several other girls, whilst supposedly moving to either another class or playtime, would go out of the school on to Long Acre into the shops in Railway Terrace to and buy a penny’s worth of “pignuts”. They would be back in line before the teacher missed them. They would have been in serious trouble if caught.
A very fond and lasting memory is making her way home along Railway Terrace after school and passing the farriers.“ I can still remember the clink, clink of the hammer and seeing the horses being shod”.
Frances, being a rather tall girl, was often placed at the back of the class. This practice could have seen an early end to what was to become a very fruitful life. Over one weekend a storm of epic proportions hit the school resulting in the whole rear wall of the class, including the area where she and several other pupils would normally have sat, collapsing into the playground below. There is little doubt that had the storm happened during school time fatalities would have resulted.
Whilst Frances was at St Paul’s her mother still carried out teaching duties. On one such occasion, she completed a term at St Joseph’s. One of her sisters, Pauline and one brother Vincent, also attended St Joseph’s prior to passing their exams and moving to the Oratory. Sadly Vincent died in March 2001.
On leaving school Frances was to complete her teacher training duties at Selly Park Training College were she left in 1935.
The following year saw Frances take up her first teaching role at St Joseph’s, as second year junior teacher. At this time Sister Margeret Luby was the Headmistress, Father Poulton was the Parish priest. Sister Alfreda was now Head of the Infant School.
Whilst Frances was teaching at the school, Miss White, who had been a member of staff during Frances’s pupil years, received serious injuries after being knocked over by a bus in the City Centre. Together with a Miss Livingstone, another teacher, she visited Miss White in hospital. Sadly Miss White did not recover from her injuries and died a short while later.
Always a very keen sports person Frances would often take her pupils to Salford Park after the daily lessons so that they could practise for the Catholic School sports. This was to achieve its goal when her charges won the Junior Cup. It is clear that she was prepared to take responsibilities for those within her care and make every effort to ensure they did well, even if this meant giving up her own time, it was a small price to pay.
Her time at the school was interrupted by the war when the evacuation of the children became necessary. The first occasion was in 1939 when they were removed to Smysby, near Ashby-de la Zouche. As the amount of bombing expected did not materialise, the children and staff, drifted back. This was a short-lived experience as towards the end of 1940 evacuation again became necessary. This time Frances was at Two Gates, Tamworth.
Towards the end of 1941 with numbers falling within the school Frances who was the youngest and latest teacher to arrive at the school, had to seek an alternative position. This she quickly did taking up a post at St Catherine’s in The Horsefair. Father Slade was Curate at St Catherine’s for a period whilst Frances was there before he moved on to St Joseph’s.
She remained there until retiring in the position of Deputy Head in 1977. The school held a large celebration in honour of her devotion to her work as a teacher.
Miss Frances Vaughan
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As she says, “There were plenty of ups and downs but I have enjoyed my time”.
Throughout her life Frances has been a very keen traveller and has visited, amongst many other places, Africa, China, India and America. She is a keen photographer, though admits she takes things a little bit easier nowadays.
Whilst she did not spend many years teaching at St Joseph’s, Frances was a very dedicated teacher who has devoted much of her life to ensuring children were taught to a very good standard and that St Joseph’s loss was St Catherine’s gain.
Frances has provided 2 photographs taken of St Joseph's Girls Sports teams that participated in the Catholic School Sports in 1938 & 1939. It would seem that the School identification letter was "L". This was displayed on the front of their dress, to much amusement of other schools with a more subtle letter of the alphabet. Despite the "micky" taking, the girls won the runners up cup. You can see the cup in the main picture.
The camera that Frances used was a Box Brownie-Kodak. This her mother had purchased by saving tokens from the Birmingham Gazette. Now long since extinct. This camera became Frances's treasure and joy and helped to start her on her life long love of photography.
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The following is a letter received from a former pupil who now lives in Australia.
LETTER FROM MILDRED BOURN (nee MORRIS)
Australia 5091
17th February 1998
I am writing to you in response to a letter I have received from my friend Sheila Taylor. She tells me you are looking for people who once attended St Joseph's School, Nechells. I went to St Joseph's for ten years from 1940 - 1950.
Let me tell you about the summer of 1993. I was in England on a family visit. Sheila and I spent the day looking for childhood places. We got the bus from Sutton and got off at the bottom of Nechells Park road. We walked up the road looking at familiar street names with unfamiliar rows of houses. We turned right into Railway Terrace and walked down to Long Acre. The Mitre pub was still on the corner and opposite was my old school wall with the gate that went down the steps into the schoolyard.
The gate was locked or boarded. We could not get in. We walked further along to the church gate. We went in that gate and through the deserted cemetery to church. There it was, all securely locked and gridded with an "unused" look about it. My friend was a bit nervous in this deserted place. I persuaded her to walk with me down the side of the church to the school. I stood and looked at where my school had been - a wasteland of rubble. I knew there was most likely another newer St Joseph's somewhere, but I did not know where to look. I wish now I had persisted. I am so happy to learn that all is well and you are all there.
I was quite moved to hear that Sister Margaret is still alive. How wonderful it would be to see her and talk to her. We used to have a Legion of Mary group. We met at school in the evenings. Sister ran the group. One time she was asking us what we anted to be when we grew up. Some of the girls, more to please her I thought at the time, said they wanted to be a nun. "And what about you, Mildred?" she asked. "Oh, no not me", I said, "I want to get married and have nine children". "Then I will pray for you", said Sister. "I will pray that you have your nine children". Some years later, here in Australia, when I had had three children I decided, dearly though I loved them, three was enough. I opened my arms wide and called out. "Wherever you are, Sister, stop praying for more children for me now". I don't think she did because as it happened I had many, many more children - hundreds in fact. I went back to study and qualified as a teacher. I taught for twenty years, and retired two years ago.
My friend said you have found Miss Sidebottom. There is another teacher I would really love to see again. She enthralled me. How she spoke, how she dressed and how she did her hair. I remember once she told me off for concentrating more on the pattern on her dress that what she was teaching us. I now know what a good teacher she was. We were a poor school, in a poor area. She worked very hard with us kids. She had a good sense of fun. She had names for us all. She would look at us all and say, "Stand up the professors". Two boys at the back would dutifully stand up. I think one of those boys was named Patrick McEverly. He was tall and wore glasses, hence the nickname. My memory is not good enough to be sure of that.
Anyway, one day she said, "Stand up the butterfly". I stood up. Everybody was amused, including me. Miss Sidebottom looked at me and said, "I'll say this for you, you've a sense of humour and that will get you through life".
When it comes to names I have a problem remembering after all these years. The girl I was closest to all through school was Pat Sanders. We fell out from time to time, of course, but the friendship lasted until well after our school years. We lost touch a few years after I came here. All because of you, my friend Sheila has been able to find her in Weston-Super-Mare. I am waiting to hear more. I am so happy to know that she is well.
Patty and I lived in the same row of houses. We played together before we were old enough for school. She was two weeks older than me. I remember the day I went to call for her as usual and her mum said, "She is not here. She has gone to school".
I was devastated. In the afternoon Pat came home and said Sister Alfreda said I could go with her the next day. That was it. No preamble, no build-up to the great day. I just went with Pat the next day and for the next ten years.
Our first teacher was Miss Dobbins. We had two rooms, one with little tables and chairs in and one that was a sort of playroom. We learned to read in Miss Dobbins' class and it was all a great struggle and very serious.
Our next class was Sister Alfreda's class. That was one big room, half taken up with desks and half left empty. That place was never used for play for we were much too big by now. I do remember we staged a Nativity play in there. I can't think who the audience were. Parents never ever set foot in the school premises.
By this time the war was on. Nechells was being bombed. They were after the gas works. We would spend our nights in the air-raid shelters when a blitz was on. Still we would trundle off to school next day and the teachers would carry on as if everything was normal. School was the one constant, unchanging part of our lives. I now realise the teachers would have spent the night in an air-raid shelter as well. For all that, school was normal. Well, fairly normal. You had to have your gas mask with you at all times. If you forgot to bring it you were sent home pronto to get it. Also a big air-raid shelter was built in the Infants' playground. It was out of bounds except when we did shelter drill. Practice drills were all we ever did. It was never needed for a real raid.
When we went up into the Junior School our teacher was Miss Dobbins. She sat at her tall desk at the front. She taught us how to knit. Well, in my case, I never got beyond the first stitch. We had to do some complicated process with the finger and thumb, one needle and the wool. We would have to practise, and then she would call us out to her desk to do it. Every time I put the wool the wrong way round I got a rap on the fingers with a ruler. I didn't actually start knitting until I was twenty. She probably did nice things too, but that is all I remember.
When I was nine years old my mother died. I have tried to remember whose class I was in at that time. I don't know. That is what it was like, you see, St Joseph's School was always normal and stable whatever turmoil was happening in the outside world.
After my mother died I was a dinner child. There weren't many of us. We used to line up and march to (I think) Cromwell Street School and
