In his latest nostalgia column for the Western Telegraph, JEFF DUNN discusses more old times and fond memories:
I have no doubt that a large percentage of TRM readers fall into the "older generation" category, so for them this column merely resurrects a few old memories of days gone by, but for any younger TRM'ers (I live in hope !) it can be a flashback to an alien time and a different world.
This week I'm recalling some memories of the 1950's, including a few from my own childhood.
Firstly, here's a Western Mail cutting which caught my eye from the time when Milford was declared as a possible 'Dallas of the UK'.. "WONDER PLANT...It will make Milford's petrol best, cheapest. This was how Mr Ernest Asquith had described a new, intricate piece of plant called a 'power former'. Mr Asquith was the Milford refinery manager of Esso, who were in the midst of building the town's first oil refinery at the near historic Little Wick Fort, which once defended the haven. There were sheep still grazing on what remained of the lush green pastures, even though there were bull-dozers buzzing around them like a horde of mechanical invaders.
Apparently, Esso appointed their own farm manager, eliciting one executive to comment at the time: "So far we are making more money from farming than from oil !" The cost of petrol didn't affect me in 1958, ( the cost of a gallon back then was about 5 bob... that's 25p to you youngsters), as a one-geared, third-hand push bike was my only mode of transport.
I can recall getting these interesting observations and comparisons from my good friend, Jets:
"Back in the 50's...pasta hadn't been invented ; a "takeaway" was some sort of mathematical problem ; a pizza was the place you found a "leaning tower;" bananas and oranges appeared only at Xmas time ; all packets of crisps were plain and you could choose whether to put salt on or not ; a Chinese chippy was a foreign carpenter ; the only rice was in a milk pudding and not part of our dinner; a Big Mac was a coat you wore when it rained; brown bread was eaten only by the underpriviliged; tea was brewed in a teapot using tea leaves and never green; sugar cubes were for "posh" people; fish didn't have fingers ; eating raw fish was not sushi, but poverty ; nobody'd heard of yoghurt ; kebab wasn't even a word, never mind a food...although muesli was readily available, and called "cattle feed; " you drank water which came out of a tap, and at meal times one thing that was never on the table was "our elbows !"
It was in early 1954 that the SS Kellia arrived at Ward's Yard to be broken up...built by Swan Hunter and Wigham Richardson in 1929. She began her days with the British Oil Shipping Co Ltd of London. 5666 tons: 410' long. In 1944 she was transferred to Anglo Saxon Petroleum.
There's a distinct likelihood quite that the Kellia was one of the boats we whipper-snappers from Pill clambered all over in search of anything we ten- year- olds, might find useful.
Wards was one of our "playgrounds" although our parents, especially our mothers, had no idea what "going out to play" could really mean. Mums weren't daft, of course, they knew from the state of our clothes that we weren't a bunch of goody-two-shoes playing only "tidy" games, but I don't think any of them had an inkling as to some of the things, at times, we got up to.
My guarded answer of.."Out with the boys" was repeated more often than Frankie Laine's huge hit "Answer Me" was played on the wireless. And here's an "out-with-the-boys" snap from 1954 ..taken when there were no workmen around to chase us away ...A gang of us on the jib of a crane, blissfully overlooking the Gunkle.
I can't let the Fifties go without mentioning the 3rd February 1959, the day that Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and The Big Bopper all died in a plane crash.
Like so many teenagers I was a massive fan of Holly, undoubtedly one of the most influential pioneers of rock'n roll, whose songs led to the creation of many of Britain's groups in the 1960's, including the Beatles, Rolling Stones, and the Hollies (named after Buddy).
When I was part of the Mike Walters group in the 50's, we played all of Buddy Holly's songs, and I remember one night playing in the Trafalgar Institute (See pic) and during our version of "Oh Boy" one of my guitar strings snapped. During the interval, as I was putting on a new string , I apologised to Mike, who just smiled and replied..."Don't worry. I couldn't tell the difference !"
That's about it from me except to say that I was saddened to hear of the passing of Haverfordwest's David Tozer...a hugely respected and knowledgeable guy whose passion for his home town was plain for all to see. He'd been a TRM follower since my very first one, and, like me, David was also a big Buddy Holly fan and we'd often share memories of that bygone music era. Our sincere condolences go to Diane and the family.
As usual I leave you with someone else's thought..this week it's Nancy Astor's.."I used to dread getting older because I thought I would not be able to do all things I wanted to do, but now that I am older I find that I don't want to do them."
Take care...please stay safe.
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