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.

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   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.

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And Even More from Phyllis Arnold

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.

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                              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 1^st 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.

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                             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.

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.                                            Miss Winnie Martin

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 5^th 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 1^st World War, wanted her to be a teacher because she would not then have to go into the services. The 2^nd 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.

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                     Miss Agnes Sidebottom

               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

 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.

 

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A pupil and a teacher be

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

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.

Girls team 1938. No names are remembered but the girl on the right may have been called Harrison.	1939 Team with Cup. Back row. L-R. Susan Truman. Unknown. Teresa Lyden. Rita Marshall. Frances McEvilly. Front Row. Sheila Harford. Unknown. Winnie Aidney. (With cup) Winnie Baker Frances. The last girl is unknown but is described as a very good runner..

 

 

 

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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

17^th 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 have a hot dinner and a pudding. Then we would go back to our own school. We were looked after by a lady called Mrs Hardwick. I really liked Mrs Hardwick. She used to bring her smocking and I would watch her. She had two sons, Chris and John. They had been evacuated to a farm during the bombing. Chris had been kicked by a horse and never really recovered from it. He had his leg in irons and had great difficulty moving around. I heard later he died when he was about sixteen. John, the other son, had been in my class. Then he went to grammar school. Some years later I heard he had also died in a motorbike accident when he was 21. I never found out for sure. I often think of Mrs Hardwick, such a nice lady. I wish now I had made some effort to see her again. 

As I said earlier I have a problem remembering names after all this time. There was Hilda Sartori who was also a friend of mine, also Hilda Kelsall, who lived in the same street. A girl called Joan Thorley came later to our school. We were good friends, and also Sheila Trueman. My friend mentioned Tommy Powell, Paddy Brierley and Doreen Wale. I remember them all. It is harder to remember the boys because then, like now, we didn't play together. I do of course remember Pat's brothers, John and Len Sanders because I was closely involved with their family. 

So that was it. The single most enduring influence in my whole life: my school. We were poor, we were under-privileged, the school was ill equipped, the classes were large but the teachers worked flat out to give us grounding for life. I developed a love of learning there. Above all, we were a Catholic school with Catholic values. There is nothing wrong with strong Catholic values I can tell you.

God Bless you all. Mildred Bourne, Nee Morris.

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Yesterday when I was young

 Memories from Tommy Powell. A pupil at the school between 1937-1947

Before the Second World War, St. Joseph's School was somewhat fragmented in that it was actually in three parts. To the rear of the church was the school building, the entrance being in Long Acre. The downstairs being used for the Infant School. The upper floor being the Girl's School. The third section of the school allocated to the boys, was the building which stood at the bottom of the church drive at the Thimble Mill Lane entrance.

In 1941 it was decided that the three sections of the school would integrate. The Headmaster of the Boys’ School was Mr Meehan, known as Daddy Baka), because of the strong smell of tobacco which emanated from him. Another member of Staff was Tom O'Loughlin, who later became  Head teacher at St Mary's School Aston, He organised Aston Schoolboys Football teams and most other school sports within the Aston region. Other staff members included: Mr Wells (Jimmy), Miss Kilmartin (Killer) and Miss Corbett (Polly), who later married Mr Meehan. Stalwarts at the Infant school were Sister Alfreda, Miss Grundy and Miss Maguire. They seemed to go on forever. 

After integration, the school was headed by, Sister Margaret aided by Miss Dobbin, Miss Kilmartin, Miss White, Miss Sidebottom and later Miss Scally. In due course the school saw the arrival of Mr Cassell,  Mrs Ball, Miss Devlin and Mister Kelly. 

In the early part of the war, some pupils were subject to the evacuation and were moved to the countryside to avoid the frequent air raids. Those who were left found that a new addition to lessons was walking around the school playground wearing gas masks. 

Another memory of that time was the intrusion into lessons by air raid sirens. Taking it all in their stride, the pupils would simply file out into the shelters, which were in the playground, where, after a prayer, they would continue with the lesson.  

Feared much more than the German bombers, was the occasional visit of the dreaded "Nit Nurse" Every pupil fearing that they would receive that blue slip of paper to take home, which said you had bodily lodgers. 

Christmas always saw the performance by the senior and junior classes of a Nativity play. It was that time when sheets, towels, curtains etc. were either borrowed or went missing from home to make the necessary costumes. It was amazing how a sheet and towel would quickly transform you into a shepherd, and a cardboard crown, make you a King. Sister Margaret would bring out her old wind up gramophone and with a record of Ava Maria, provide background music. Eat your heart out Steven Spielberg for productions like this! 

Later in the war years the girls went to cookery lessons one day a week at the nearby Charles Arthur Street School. Similarly, the boys also attended the same venue for woodwork lessons. It did seem to the boys that the arrangements were not to the liking of the woodwork teacher, who appeared to dislike the St Joseph's boys, or maybe it was their religious persuasion. At the end of every lesson no one could leave until all tools had been checked and pencils accounted for. 

At the time when the school possessed no male teachers on the staff, Miss Sidebottom was seconded to take the boys for PT. and swimming at Nechells Baths, football and cricket. The schools at that time had the use of the Johnny Wright’s football pitch, which was next to the school. 

Miss Sidebottom would also referee the football matches. The fact she did not know the rules were just aside issue. This was often made worse when Father Bouchier came over from the church and would run up and down the side of the pitch shouting instructions to her. These only saw Miss Sidebottom getting even more confused. During this period the school entered football and cricket teams in local leagues. They were however not very successful.

The School, in the not too distant future, would produce several good swimmers, who went onto achieve a fair fair degree of success in many competitions. Many former pupils in the 40'sand 50's will no doubt remember across the road from the main school building was Railway Terrace. Here there were a couple of shops. One affectionately known as "Collins's", must have made a fortune over the years selling pupils bags of broken biscuits, crisps, kali, pop and other sweet items. The fruit shop next door provided you with specked apples or a penny carrot, which you would scrape with another penny, (If you had one!) and then eat raw.

Easter 1947 saw Doreen Wale, Frank Keating, Dennis Gough, Micky Jordan, Micky Toomey, Mickey Reid and Tommy Powell, leave the school. All were 14 years of age and were the last to leave at that age. The leaving age having just been raised to 15 years.

The Curate at the church was Father Henry Bouchier who established the first youth club at the school. Wilf Webb was made club leader. (Wilf would eventually become the school caretaker)  

At the end of the Second World War, St Joseph's Men's Club, which had been situated in Thimble Mill Lane, was closed. A full size snooker table belonging to the club was transferred to the old Boy's School building, which at that time was at the bottom of the main drive. Youths from 13 to 18 years of age could join. At one stage membership totalled about 60. The club was open 3 nights a week and Sunday lunchtime. 

Highlight of the week was always the England v Ireland football match played with a tennis ball. Played in the school playground the game had no rules, as many as 16 a side played and scores of 32 to 28 often the norm.  

One of the most vivid memories from that period was a day trip to New Brighton. A "cowboy coach" (Not an authorised company) was hired and turned up with a driver who did not know the way. No motor ways in those days, you must remember. Five hours, plus one breakdown going, six hours, plus two breakdowns, coming back. Not bad really for a journey expected to only take three hours each way! Still a good time was had by all.

Jim Powell, under the direction of Father Bouchier formed an under 18-football team. The team achieved considerable success. One particular achievement saw the team beating the red- hot favourites Holy Rosary 5-2 in the Catholic Youth Cup Final.Jim scoring all five goals. Team members were: Les. Broxton, T. Bloxham, R. Hawkins, T. Lynch, T. Exley, L.Payne, J. Hawkins, B.Brown, J.Hall, P.Emery, G. Mulvey. 

The parish priest at the time was Father Poulton. When he passed  away, Father Bouchier  also was moved. Father Reginald Slade took over as parish priest and decided to close the club. The closure was only for a short period as he eventually re opened the club with him being the head. Vincent Mortimer was asked to be club leader and form a committee to run the club. Tommy Powell became the club secretary.  

The membership was kept to 16 youths who were working and 20 still at school. The club entered a football team in The Catholic Football League and three table tennis teams. All the teams gained considerable success in their respective leagues. The football team were runners up in the league and the A & B table tennis teams won their leagues two years running and reached cup finals. 

Football team members. Henry Coyle, Vincent Mortimer, Stan Robinson, Frank Keating, Dave Passey, Jackie Toon, Albert Donnally, Tom Powell, Roly Morris, Jack Gouldney Wilbur Coyle.  Mortimer, Passey and Morris later represented Birmingham Catholic Youth and Morris was later to sign for Aston Villa. 

Table Tennis teams A Team  J. Toon, V. Mortimer, H. Coyle. B Team. T. Powell, S. Robinson, F. Keating, C Team D. Sharp W. Coyle, B. Hinksman. A photo of the team has been included on the photograph page.

J.Toon, H.Coyle and Tommy Powell all gained recognition representing the Birmingham Catholic Youth. 

Sadly the club eventually closed. In the main this was due to the lads going off to do their National Service.

Tommy passed away in 2006

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Are you here somewhere?

Pat was 75 years old at the time of his death. He attended St Joseph’s between 1938 and 1948. In 1954 Pat joined the Birmingham Fire and Ambulance Service. He retired in 1984 with the rank of Station Officer.

I have added to the story below, the eulogy from Pat's Funeral Service. This was given by his life long friend Joe Harford.

 Read the following and see how many of you remember incidents such as these either in whole or part. 

My first day at school, how do I remember it? I was carried into the school, kicking and screaming by Miss Grundy, my first class teacher. My mother having taken me. The first lesson? How to wash your hands and face correctly. 

During the Second World War and whilst still in junior school, I used to go to Mere Road in Erdington where Miss Grundy and Miss White, shared the same house. The coalman would always drop the coal outside their back gate. I had to carry it in for them. During the odd daylight air raid we would all sit in the shelter with our gasmasks on, reciting our tables. The shelter would be lit by hurricane lamps. I can still remember the smell of paraffin. 

On Johnny Wright’s playing field next to the school there was a static water tank. We found out that it was full of newts. Time would always be spent there on our way home from school trying to catch some. From there we would take the short walk down the path by the railway to do some train spotting. This was done from a wall in Long Acre where Flight’s building now stands. The railway was actually Aston Railway Sheds where the engines were serviced and repaired. All trains at this time carried a small badge on the front firebox door to signify where their home sheds were. Aston trains carried the badge 3D. 

One day I was knocked over in the playground hitting my face on a roughcast window sill. I had to be taken to Hurcombe’s Chemist Shop, at the corner of Nechells Park Road and Chattaway Street to get the damage seen to. A lint pad and bandage were placed over my eye and the area around it. Then I was taken home to my gran. When my mother came home from work at Avon Diecast, Compton Street, working on munitions, she found that the lint had been put on with hairy side to the wound. More pain! 

At one time the school had to close for slight bomb damage. During the few days it was closed, about 12 of my class had our lessons in a private house in Nechells Park Road. I can remember the house was almost opposite Nechells Baths, though on the city side of the traffic lights. We sat on armchairs and sofas to do our lessons. 

If we had been kept awake during the night by air raids, we would often sleep on our coats on the floor of the classrooms during the day. 

If we were able to accumulate a few halfpennies together we would buy “specked” apples or pieces of swede, from the old ladies shop in Railway Terrace. With a few pennies more and it would be into Collins’, which was on the other side of the Terrace, for some sweets- home made I believe. 

Towards the end of the war one of the nuns, either Sister Margaret or Sister Alfreda, asked Tommy Powell and I to go to an address in Addison Road Nechells and dig up a tree and bring it back for planting. Tommy didn’t know where Addison Road was, but I did. Off we set with a shovel and a fork to do the deed. On the way we did a little train spotting, eventually arriving at the address!!! The occupier opened the door to two urchins, one who had a spade that was bigger than him. The other, a big gangly one. Both of whom spoke gibberish. She did not have clue about any tree to be dug up. 

It was then realised that the tree fellers were in Adderley Road Saltley, 45 minutes away from Addison Road Nechells. This was in fact only 5 minutes away from the convent where they had been given their task. Having stopped to again train-spot on the way back, it was dark when they got back to the convent. It is not clear if ever the convent got the tree or not. 

I had become an Altar boy and slowly moved through the ranks till I would serve at all the Sunday masses as required. I would also serve at Benediction of a Sunday evening. Father Poulton was the priest at this time. Serving at Benediction also provided for the servers to have “knock-about” fun in the choir room that was situated at the back of the Church. A  major problem I encountered being an altar boy, was brought about by my big feet. I always seemed to be catching my heels in the bottom of the cassock and tearing the hems. 

I was often called out of school to assist with funerals or weddings. This was good as invariably at weddings you used to get a “couple of bob” off the best man. Another similar money earner was pumping the organ. This paid one shilling a time. (5p). This consisted of pumping a lever at the side of the organ. You had to keep a bobbin at the top of a thin glass tube. Once you got it to the top you had a few minutes rest still you started again. Occasionally I relaxed too much and would be reminded by Father Poulton hammering with his fist at the side of the organ. 

Remember the cane? Yes we do-as administered by Sister Margaret.  She was an expert, at catching the very tips of your fingers every time. You could not feel them for a couple of hours afterwards. I only got it once. You could get the cane for missing mass. I never did because towards the end of my schooldays and I did occasionally miss, I would lie. Being caned for this sin rankled with me then, and still does when I remember it. 

Miss Kilmartin, (Killa) built like a brick outhouse, jet- black hair cut in men’s style, tweed skirt, woollen stockings and “sensible” shoes. Rumour was she had been kicked out of the Gestapo for brutality. She could punch her own weight too. 

On Thursday afternoon, she would set us memory work. This consisted of a paragraph of about 100 words out of a schoolbook. These we had to learn over the week- end. Come Monday morning we had to write it from memory in our school- book. During the dinner hour she would check it and then during the afternoon read them out to the class, whilst the “trembling bag of jelly”, who had written it, stood beside her. Her desk and chair were on blocks, this ensuring that she was a lot higher than the pupils. Every mistake she found would result in a rap from her knuckles on your head.  It’s a wonder no one from her class finished up with brain damage! 

Mr Lemon, who came to St Joseph’s upon his demob from the RAF, he was, I think, the first male teacher to start back at the school after the war. His arrival coincided with the re-opening of the old boys school at the bottom of the drive by Thimble Mill Lane, this being achieved despite the fact it did not contain any desks, chairs or other necessary items. I am not certain what Mr Lemmon taught as I was never in his class. He did how ever take indoor games in the old building. It always consisted of a type of rugby without rules. 

One day we all went to Pype Hayes I went on the back of Mr Lemon’s motorbike. The rest went in a coach. Was I scared? I was terrified. I don’t think it would happen today. I went back on the coach! I don’t think he stayed at the school long. 

A local boxer named of Johnny Kirwin used to come into the school to teach us to box. He was about 25-30 years old. The training in the main was sparring. On one occasion he gave Vinny Mortimer a right smack in the eye then blamed Vinny’s long hair for the damage, though the injury was not serious. 

Swimming at Nechells Baths. This was with Miss Sidebottom in charge. I didn’t have a pair of swimming trunks and mom never sent me with a towel so these always had to be hired from the baths. The towels were like the toilet paper of the time, STIFF, and non absorbent, so that after drying yourself you couldn’t get your vest on because you were still damp. What about the trunks? They only had one leg hole and tapes on one side. I never could get the hang of which was back and which front. Also mine would never stay on. Talk about indecent exposure! 

In the months leading up to leaving school, (1948) we were taken on two trips; one was the Wolesley Car Factory in Drews Lane Ward End and the other The Kingsbury Colliery, Nr. Tamworth. 

In respect of the latter visit we were not told to wear any particular clothing and so all went along in our Sunday best. The girls were on this trip as well. Down the pit we went in one of those cages, crawled along a stationary conveyor belt, the one they used for carrying coal. I have forgotten what we looked like when we got home.

Miss Agnes Sidebottom, nicknamed “Aggie”, we thought she didn’t know what we called her. She knew everything. I have not said too much about her yet but during the time I, and many other pupils were under her supervision, she was, and still is “St Joseph’s School”. 

She was, and still is, good looking-she wore make up and lipstick, which was unheard of then. She was not a great deal older than we were. She was stern and could raise her voice with the best She had no favourites, everyone was treated the same. I think I am still in love with her now! She would walk to school along the same route as Tommy Powell and I did, so we were always on best behaviour. 

Memories of actual classroom work have dimmed over the years. I do though remember Miss Sidebottom’s method of teaching. Blackboard, heads down. Questions and answers, eye to eye contact and individual attention if required, but always helpful. I have very fond memories of Agnes in those far off-days. 

The above memories are from Patrick Brierley who attended the school between 1938 and 1948. In 1954 Pat joined the Birmingham Fire and Ambulance Service. Whilst training, part of his route to work followed the same way that Miss Sidebottom still took. Passing her as he rode past on the bus, he still remembers the strong appreciation he had for her and all the good she did for him and countless others.

Pat has also related the following story to me. Having read it, I feel that if I were to relate it to you in a manner similar to many of the other stories, I would not do it justice. For that reason I present it using Pat's own words. I feel he has attempted to disguise somewhat, the bravery he displayed, which, undoubtedly saved a fellow soldiers life.

In the photograph above, of the Imjin River, if you enlarge the image, you will the soldiers in the river.

A TRUE STORY REMEMBERED AS IF IT WAS YESTERDAY  

Sometime around about June/July 1953, aged 19, I was a wireless operator in the Royal Corps of Signals attached to the 20 Field Regiment Royal Artillery. I was in North Korea serving with the Commonwealth Division (part of the First ever United Nations Force).

It was a very hot day and a group of us lads had been taken by lorry to the Imjin River.  a) For a decent wash   b) For a bit of time doing exactly nothing. 

There were many other troops there from different parts of the world all doing the same as us. The river at this spot (see photo of actual place) was very wide, slow moving with treacherous currents, which we did not know about. The bank of the river was more of a sandy beach, an ideal place for a day lounging about.  

I was never a great swimmer and always liked to be able to feel the bottom under my feet. A small group of us were splashing about and underfoot was lovely soft sand with the depth about 5 -6 feet, when suddenly the sand was swept away leaving us in deep water. We all struck out for the bank and I made it easily with the rest, but, looking back one of our lads was face down in the river not moving and being taken away by the current. The lad in question (I have long forgotten his name) came from Audley Road, Stechford. He was a big strong lad as, I was in those days.  Without giving it a second thought I dived in and swam towards him (BIG MISTAKE) and on reaching him he suddenly clamped himself to me by wrapping his arms and legs around me in a bear hug effectively trapping my arms at my sides. Trying to break free from this situation is impossible without the use of your arms, so we bobbed up and down a few times with me shouting for help (he never uttered a word). After a period of time and using so much energy I was completely exhausted and good for nothing when he suddenly let go. By now I had given up hope, unable in any way to help myself and under water.  

At this point I was aware how warm the water was, with the rays of the sun slanting through. I was completely relaxed, comfortable and not fighting to breathe. Now this is the strange part!! I said to myself "If this is dying by drowning it is a lovely experience" and I was quite happy to let it happen. I then became aware of being surrounded by the lower parts of men's bodies all thrashing about and someone having hold of me saying "Just relax". It was a Canadian lad who got me to the bank using the classical hand under chin method of rescue.  

October 1952 in Hong Kong. Pat in centre with

Mick Mead on right and George Attwell on right.

 

After dumping me on the bank and a few others asking "Are you alright mate?" they all went on with their day out. I was none the worse for my experience and quickly put it to the back of my mind but I have never forgotten it.  

The lad from Audley Road was also rescued. He never said, "Thank you" and the incident was never mentioned again.  

I have never seen him since.

The following is the eulogy delivered at Pat's funeral service by Joe Harford.

We have to travel back to 1939 and as a young boy of 4 years I was allowed to go into the front room and wave to my brother and sisters as they went to school, but there was a sad moment though because every morning a girl used to walk past with a little boy held firmly by the hand, this little boy was always crying, this made me sad and I used to think I wish I could make that little boy smile and be happy.

      Well it wasn’t long before I found out why he was crying because I started school and in those days you were taken to your first class and just left with the teacher; it was quite a shock to the system, so the floods started. I soon paled up with this little boy and we forgot our woes.  We lived at the bottom of Nechells Park Rd, we survived the bombing, I was evacuated, he stayed at home and we teamed up again when I returned, we got into the usual scrapes that kids got into with all the bombed buildings   

About, what fun we had.

      We went our separate ways for a few years; we even joined the same Regiment, went to different parts of the world, finished our service and joined the same Territorial Army unit and in 1955 we were posted to Germany for two weeks. We sailed from Harwich to the Hook of Holland and while on the train he told me that he had just joined the fire brigade, It’s evident by now that that little boy back in 1939 was Pat.  Holland being so flat all that I got was. “That’s a chimney fire”. “That’s a Forrest fire”. “That’s a bonfire”. During that journey he said that he had met the most beautiful girl in the world and could I give him any advice so that he didn’t loose her. I told him just be yourself  Pat. I didn’t tell him at the time but I had married the most beautiful girl in the world. We called it a draw in the end and Pat married Alma.

     We got to Germany and the regiment set up camp in a Forrest in-between Dusseldorf and Essen .First parade the RSM allocated tasks, and seeing a loophole we decided we were drivers and not wireless operators, although we hadn’t got a driving licence, the RSM told us to stand by while he sorted a vehicle out. We retired to our tent and our bales of straw, Pat doing his rendition of Sinatra’s, ‘Learning The Blues’. Me dreaming of my new bride.           

   We heard no more so when asked what we were on we said we were RSM stand by drivers, we got away with it for the two weeks. To say the weather was bad is an understatement, it never stopped raining and the camp soon turned into a swamp in places. Then it was. “Come on you I want to practice my Fireman’s lift “.and would throw me over his shoulder like a rag doll. At least my kit was kept clean, A regular comment in the camp was. “That’s Brierley with that thing over his shoulder”. I saw more of his rear end than his face for that fortnight.

 We went into Dusseldorf one day and needing the gents Pat said” That’s an underground gents over there “. Gets half way down an there is this enormous German woman sat on a stool at the bottom of the steps, we did a smart about turn and back out, I said “That’s the ladies you silly boy “Or something like that, then two chaps past us and went down, it was a gents and she was the cleaner lady and sat in clear view of all the proceedings, nobody took any notice. I never heard the last of it from Pat. At the end of the two weeks the big parade and the RSM handing out the “ Well done lads “, as he starts walking along the ranks, we suddenly start to feel a bit uneasy.

He gets three paces past Laurel and Hardy, walks back two paces leans backwards and out of the corner of his mouth asks.  “Who are you two “we told him he put us on standby on day one. Now Pat being taller missed this bit, but I could feel the heat as his neck started to turn red.

     I assured Pat that we would be in civvy street the next day so we were ok, so back to our bales of straw and Pat doing his Sinatra, me dreaming of my bride, a corporals head pokes through the tent “ RSM wants you two”. We get to his tent and he  tells us that the camp has to be left stocked up for the next regiment and there was a truck load of rations, and a load of coal for the cookhouse. I said we would do the rations, the RSM said he had already detailed someone to do that, and we had the coal.

     We got the truck in the coal bay and told the driver to tip it up, then we found out it wasn’t a tipper. So it was two pan shovels and a lot of hard work. Finished, we asked the RSM for transport to the showers down the road, sorted, it was back to our bales of straw. Pat doing Frank, me dreaming. It was only five minutes when the corporal was back.” The RSM wants you two”, down to his tent we go. “There’s a load of coal for the cookhouse” he said,” We’ve done it “we said, the RSM says” I forgot to say there was two loads to unload, need another shower”?

     I would like to think that I made that little boy smile all those years ago but knowing the family as I do I no need to have worried.

       

A strong supporter of Service reunions the above picture (right above) are Pat attending (with group) November 2005.Col .  Benny Goodman (SAS) on left. John Stelfox on right. George Attwell at rear

  Spring 1953 Korea. Pat with George Attwell (Above left)      

. Lower picture is Pat in front of Korean  Plaque in the basement of St Paul's Cathedral.

 

 

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The Teacher’s tale.

No story about St Joseph's would be complete without looking at Peter Whittle, who gave much to the changing face and style of St Joseph's.

 Now retired Peter lives in the Great Barr area of Birmingham. Sadly Mary, his wife , passed away in 2006. During the research made for the book, on St Joseph's, many former students, who had come under Peter's supervision, spoke very highly of his skills and abilities as a teacher. It seemed only fitting that his story should be included. 

He was born in Bolton Lancashire on the 11^th May 1921 he was the youngest of 9 children. Between 1941 and 1946 Peter served in the RAF as a Navigator/ Bomb aimer. He admits that he had joined the RAF because they did part of their training in Canada and being as he had relatives in America, he thought he might get the chance to visit them whilst training. 

One can see a correlation between the existing problems of a short while ago in Afghanistan, where concern over innocent people being killed by bombs, and the feelings of Peter's mother. She insisted that every evening the Rosary would be said with the wish that, "Peter would not have to drop his bombs on innocent people". 

He had initially hoped to become a pilot, however this was not to be. He soon saw service on Wellington bombers. He would only fly a few times in this type of aircraft before going on to Dakotas. This was a much better plane, the conditions of which were far superior to the Wellington, because, " You did not have to wear so many clothes to keep warm".

Eventually moving to India, Peter’s squadron took part in the retaking of Burma and Malaya. Their job involved dropping and ferrying vital supplies to the advancing ground troops below, often to “handkerchief-sized” dropping zones in the Burmese jungle. 

With the conclusion of hostilities, Peter found himself in Kallang Airport, Singapore. The crews first job was the worst experience in his service, ferrying out British prisoners from Japanese captivity. They were so thin and emaciated; the vision of them still remains today. In fact some actually died on the plane taking them to safety. 

The crew then became the “Lilywhite boys”, whose job entailed flying all kinds of cargo and passengers between Singapore and points east. In the latter part of his service Peter's skill in teaching first came to fore as his team took part in the training of new air crew arriving from England. He had now achieved the rank of Warrant Officer. It was during this time, his commanding officer suggested that once back in England, and out of the Service, that he went into teaching. Ability being recognised? 

It did appear that this advice was not to be followed, as Peter quickly found employment as a sales man. He was offered a position selling which paid good money, a car and commission. However when it was pointed out to him that at some stage at the Gates of Heaven he would have to tell St.Peter, that he sold magazines to bookshops, instead of teaching children the ways of right and wrong, his mind was made up. Teaching would be his profession. 

Having completed his training at Bamber Bridge, near Preston, he would eventually arrive at the Sacred Heart, School Aston in 1950. Once there he quickly established himself and would eventually take control of sporting matters at the school, although more senior teachers were available for the position. 

Eventually the deputy headship at St Joseph's became available. He admits that at that time he knew of the school, but had never been there. It will suffice to say he was appointed to the position on the 1^st January 1959 under the Headship of Frank Cassell. The school was still an all age school at this time. He will now admit that his first impression of St Joseph's was not a good one. The building was old and in need of considerable repair, the playground was too small. His thought? "What have I done?” 

Having taken control of the top class he found that at the start of each September term there were usually about 46 children in the class. However as there were at this time, pupils who left at Christmas and Easter, there were considerably fewer by July leaving time.  

In addition to his class duties Peter also took charge of games and swimming. The latter at the local, Nechells Baths- a venue where many St Joseph's pupils, developed their swimming skill and gained recognition, at both swimming and water polo at representative levels. 

Whilst Peter has many stories to relate regarding his time at the School, foremost in his mind in relation to fellow teachers is the time when a student teacher came to the school. It soon became apparent he was a little bit out of his depth both at teaching and controlling a class, which contained about 35 students. Of course the students soon realised this.  

As a particularly disastrous lesson came to an end, the teacher looked at his watch. He was reminded by one of the more prominent pupils, who also had a watch, that there was still 10 minutes to go. At this, the teacher removed the watch and threw it out of the upper storey window, to the playground below. Before he could go any further, the student left the class saying, " I will get it for you sir". On his return he stated that the watch was still working. Being able to take no more, the teacher threw the watch on the classroom floor and in full view of all the students commenced to jump up and down on it till it was a jumbled heap of springs and fly wheels. A future in teaching was not to be his. 

By 1963 the condition of the school was now giving cause for concern. At this time all age schools were in the process of being phased out. It had been planned that the land occupied previously by the John Wright Company, would be the site of the new Secondary School. This was dashed when a national company placed a compulsory purchase order on the land. At this time there was no right of appeal. The school had lost. 

It was eventually decided that the now empty Leigh Road School at Washwood Heath, would become the Secondary School premises for St Joseph's. The Infant and Junior Departments would remain in Nechells. To that effect, Frank Cassell, together with Peter, took all the children between the ages of 11 to 15 to their new home. Miss Lamb, who had been Head of the Infant School became the Headmistress of the new Infant and Junior School in Nechells.  

Peter remained at Leigh Road until he gained a Deputy Headship at the Holy Name Junior and Infant School, Great Barr in September 1966. His time here was short lived as he returned to St Joseph's, Nechells to take the Headship position of their Infant and Junior School in 1968. 

On starting back at the school he was faced with apparently new problems as a number of teachers had retired at the same time as the previous head. The vacancies were filled by, Sister Mary Carmel, a former Mother General, Sister Kathleen and Sister Dnyphna, all of the Marist Order. They were supplemented by Mr Wilkes, who had previously been a student at the famous Gordonstoun School. The hard work and effort of the newcomers assisted Peter in achieving further success at the school 

Peter would eventually be responsible for relocating the whole School in the new Infant and Junior School in Rocky Lane in 1969. here he remained until his retirement at Easter 1982 after a long and very fruitful time at St Joseph’s.

 

   

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                            The Esther Hodson Story 

A Pupil Long Ago

I would now like to relate to you a little tale about Esther Winifred Smallwood. Nee Hodson. Esther, (Essie) at this time, is one of the earliest St Joseph’s pupils, of which we have more than just a passing knowledge. I am indebted to her daughter, Mary Daniels, for the following information.

One of Essie’s earliest memories is going on the last horse drawn tram to visit her grandparents, Jonah and Anna Hodson. (Nee Myerscough of Preston).  Both her grandparents are now buried in St Joseph’s Churchyard. 

Later, when relating this story, she would say she could still remember sitting behind the horses and the distinctive smell that came from them. She would also mention that she travelled on the first electric tram in Birmingham and remembered that it was brilliantly lit with coloured lights for the occasion.

She commenced her schooling at St Joseph’s. When she was about 8 years old she recalls her mother saying that it was about time that they moved out of Nechells to the country because they were going to build on the fields in Nechells. Her father had taken her across these same fields, to the bluebell woods, when she was tiny. So they moved to the country, Edward Road, Erdington!! 

Here she remembers walking along Poppy Lane, which was a dirt track lane lined with poppies in the summer. As they now lived in the Abbey Parish she went to the Abbey School. At this time The Benedictines ran it. The Order was German and when the 1st World War broke out, the German Priests had to leave. The Redemptorist moved in. It would seem they changed the name to The Monastery. This did not sit well with the local Parishioners, who tore down the new sign. The Abbey name continued. It appears that this was the only Redemptorist Order to be in an Abbey. 

Essie’s father worked for the Railway. Her sister, Mary, always known as Mollie, died 11 days before the end of the 1^st World War. She, like many at that time died from the flu epidemic, which swept the country. She was 19 years old. Her youngest brother, John, was a Redemptorist Brother. See photographs on Snippetts  Page Item from Mary Daniels

Essie met her husband Clement (Clem) underneath the famous pulpit in Oscott College. This is the pulpit from where Cardinal Newman had preached his “Second Spring” sermon. They had attended separately, having been invited by a mutual friend who was being ordained. He had invited them to hear him give his first sermon. They married at Erdington Abbey on the 22^nd June 1931. 

Clem was a journalist who had started his career with the Liverpool Courier. He had then moved on to The Birmingham Mail. As a young reporter he covered the Malvern Festivals at the time of Sir Edward Elgar, Bernard Shaw and Sir Barry Jackson, founder of Birmingham Repertory Theatre. 

After the marriage Clem was made London Editor of The Evening Mail. This caused them to move to Worcester Park, Surrey, where they lived in a house called Assisi. Here their two children, Gerard and Mary were born. In London, due to Clem’s position, they were able to attend many first nights in the Theatres, always in evening dress. Clem was the Leader writer for GK Weekly, the Magazine of G K Chesterton. As result of this Essie met a number of leading literary figures like Chesterton and Belloc. 

They moved back to Birmingham when Clem was made Deputy Editor. They would eventually move to Boldmere where they would attend Mass at the little Pugin Church of St Nicholas, Boldmere Road. Dr. Cregg was the Priest. He lived in the cottage, which was attached to the Chapel with his large Red setter dog. 

During the 2^nd World War, they moved to Chadwick End, near to the Convent of Baddesley Clinton. Here Clem’s youngest sister was Mother Abbess with the Poor Clares. This was an enclosed Convent. She had been there more than 25 years when she died in June 2002. 

Essie was Sacristan at St Nicholas’s Boldmere for many years. She arranged and took care of the vestments for the then Parish Priest, Father McEvilly.  Clem and Essie were founder members of the Boldmere Third Order of St Francis. This moved to Holy Trinity Parish after the death of Father McEvilly. 

Clem became the Editor of The Birmingham Evening Mail. He died in his office at work, on the day The Mail and The Despatch combined. His Leader and his Obituary appeared side by side in the first edition. After Clem’s death, Essie went to help run the Red Cross Library at Highcroft Hospital in Erdington. This task she completed well into her 80’s when a fall caused her to leave the role. 

Essie died on the 2^nd August 2000. Prior to her death there were four generations of her family living in the St Nicholas Parish, Herself, her daughter, her grandson and his son and one of her 11 great-grandchildren.

 

 

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Frank Cassell

Any pupil who attended St Joseph’ in the 1950’s and early 60’s cannot fail to remember Frank. Formally he was the Deputy Headmaster to Sr Marguerite. He became Headmaster and took the school through very difficult times that eventually saw the senior section move to Leigh Road, Saltley. He is still well remembered and liked by all those of us who came into contact with him. 

Frank Gerard Cassell was born in Liverpool on the 30^th April 1909.  He started at St Alphonse’s School in Liverpool before moving on to St Edward’s School. From there he went to Strawberry Hill Teacher Training College in London. Frank eventually came to Birmingham. 

In Birmingham Frank met and married his wife, Sally, at The Sacred Heart, Aston on the 13^th May 1940. Frank was now teaching at the Sacred Heart.

Frank was called up in 1942 and joined the Royal Army Service Corps. His actual duty would become clerk to the Adjutant. 

Apart from a one very short leave, Frank would be away from home for three years. Just after he went away his eldest son, Michael, was born. Sally still remembers how difficult it was explaining to Michael, when Frank came home, that this strange man was his dad. 

Frank and Sally went on to have three more children, Linda, Peter and Bernard. Today Michael and Peter still live in Birmingham. Linda lives in Canada and Bernard lives in Melbourne, Australia. I was able to meet Linda whilst researching this story, when she visited her mother earlier this year. 

In 1948 Frank became Deputy Headmaster at St Joseph’s. here many of us will remember him as a well loved teacher, very firm but very fair. He never forgot where he came from. For years I thought Liverpool was the capital of England the way he would regale it’s virtues. 

A great lover of all sport, he ensured that all should take part. He was for many years The Secretary of the Catholic School Sports Association.

He eventually became the Headmaster of St Joseph’s. In doing so he inherited difficult times. The school was always in need of repair and health issues from the nearness of the Cemetery arose. Never theless he maintained his same high standards and the school continued to have success.

With the alteration in the Education System coming into effect Frank saw the Senior Section of the School moving to the old Leigh Road School site in Washwood Heath. It would have been a considerable transition to accomplish. however, with the support of his good friend and fellow teacher, Peter Whittle, the move was completed.

Frank decided to retire the year that the school leaving age rose to 16. He said, “Many do not want to be here now. They have no interest in learning. They and we (teachers) are wasting our time”. He was 62.

After retiring Frank and Sally travelled to many places in Europe, the West Indies and Canada. 

Frank, who, we all know liked a smoke and a glass of beer (or two), also liked a little bet, I have been informed. It would seem he was often successful.

Frank died in 1987. His service was held at St Theresa’s Perry Barr and he was cremated at Perry Barr Crematorium. 

Sally still resides in Birmingham and although she has not been enjoying the best of health to date is still a very sprightly lady who was well disposed to talk about Frank. 

Frank and Sally Cassell.c1971

 

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                                                                    The Percy Kimberley Story.

                                        

The following will not only bring to your attention facts about former St Joseph’s pupils, but also a little insight into how their father was involved with the local Home Guard during the 2nd World War.

Percy Kimberley was born in Himley, Dudley on the 30th  April 1903. He eventually moved to Birmingham with his family.On Christmas night in 1929 whilst walking in Steelhouse Lane, in Birmingham City centre, near to the Police Station, Percy and his brother, Albert, observed a young lady. Since both were young and single, they tried to win her over with their manly charms.  

The young lady was actually Gladys Deguille who was born on the 2nd September 1911. Apparently, a friend of Gladys, who also lived at the St Chad's Hostel wanted to go out for a breath of fresh air. Gladys was an orphan, who had experienced a very hard time up to then. Her father was killed in the first World War and her mother and 3 sisters all died with TB. She did have one surviving brother, Arthur, who, having lied about his age, went away to fight. As she was left on her own, she had been placed in a convent in Wolverhampton. She was 4 years old.Gladys clearly did not take to the Convent life and ran away many times, only to be brought back and often severely punished for her actions. In later years she would relate her bad memories of these times to her family.

At 16 years of age she was required to move out of the convent and came to Birmingham, where she was provided with residence at a hostel being run by St Chad’s Cathedral.

Having decided that she would pursue her life away from England, she decided to emigrate to Canada. However it will suffice to say, that due to meeting Percy, she began to see Birmingham in a different light and the “thrills” of a Yukon existence faded. 

Gladys and Percy married at St Chad’s on the 30th August 1931 and set up home in Frederick Road, Aston. There John and Peter, the eldest of their five children , were born. They later moved to Railway Terrace, Nechells, where Janet, Barbara and Margaret were born. All the children attended St Joseph’s School. 

When the Second World War broke out, Percy was working as an engineer for Wilde’s. He later moved to Jones’s in Lionel Street before moving to Mason’s. On attempting to join up, he was refused, due to the fact that he was in a restricted occupation. In an attempt to get sacked from the job, Percy hit the foreman. This did not work either. He had to stay. 

Wanting to do his bit for the war effort, Percy joined the 23rd Warwick's (Birmingham) Battalion, .Home Guard. The Company HQ was at 191 Vauxhall Road and the barracks at Nechells Green. He quickly moved through the ranks and became a Lieutenant.  

It is known that at least two members of that Home guard Platoon were killed as a result of enemy action. Also, some of the different jobs that the Home Guard were called to attend were saving a man from a flooded cellar in Austin Street, or being called to someone who had committed suicide. All this and a daytime job as well!

 To close this story and bring you up to date:

Today, Janet lives in the Droitwich area, Margaret in Somerset, though she frequently attends the reunion meetings. Barbara in Weston Super-Mare and John in Malvern. He retains contact with Military life by being an Officer of the British Legion, of which he has been a member since 1977. Sadly Peter, the other brother has passed away.

 I mentioned earlier the close friendship with Kathleen McDonald. Well she also lives in Droitwich, near to her lifetime friend, Janet. 

Officers from Nechells Home Guard. Percy Kimberley in group. Who are others?	Home Guard Parade but where? Barrack St has been suggested.

 

                                

                                                       

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