Written Memories

I lived in Cloverdale Road, no78, up to 1960 when my mother Margaret Sales (Turner) died.

My brothers, Peter, Jonathon and Gordon (Tony) and I went to Joseph Williams school and as I recall, Jonny and I were always up to mischief. I have fond memories of the bread van, we’d be out walking and see the van stop and there’s nothing more gorgeous than the smell of newly baked bread. His doors would be wide open and that scrumptious fragrance would be coming out. The Bread-man would be walking down someone’s footpath and so, after a quick look round, we would grab a loaf, and hi ho silver we would be off with it.
Another time we crossed the ditch / brook and we had a little suitcase with us to the farmers field, and we filled it with peas. We took it home and my horrified mother told us to take them back where we got them from! Were we supposed to glue them back on the pea stalks?
We used the same suitcase and filled it full of crab apples and it took the pair of us to carry it home but we weren’t told to take them back, in fact I do recall there was a lot of pinky coloured jam shortly after.

The prefabs had big gardens as I remember and my mother always grew carnations down the side of the footpath and dahlias. I hated the dahlias because of earwigs and to this day I’m still no fan of creepy crawlies. My step father, John Turner, told me once to go under the prefab to pull the television aerial wire through a hole he’d drilled in the floor. I wouldn’t go because a spider had bit me not long before and I was terrified it might be still lurking underneath the prefab so my brother Tony ended up crawling under with the cable.
I remember my brother Tony was fascinated by the bathroom light socket, he pulled the cord, stuck his finger in and pulled the cord again and boy did he get a shock.
We’d play games, one of us would be in the back garden and one in the front garden and try and throw the ball over the prefab, I couldn’t quite get the hang if it so when it was my turn the ball would go through the kitchen window.
I remember between our house and Frances Phoenix, the neighbour at no 80, was a corrugated iron coal shelter, probably an ex bomb shelter? too dirty to play in, alas.

I remember greatcoats being put on the bed in winter as the prefab was so cold, I don’t know who slept in the sleeve but it wasn’t me! The winters were truly awful, we could write our names in the frost on the window glass from October onwards.

At a recent meeting of the prefab society someone remembered my mother used to call us all in for our meals with a little whistle, I imagine that came from her days in the ATS in the war.

There must have been an army cadets nearby as my fondest memory of Jonny is his coming home in uniform and singing me to sleep with ‘Around the world in eighty days’.

After my mother died we were all split up and put into ‘Cottage’ homes and I would never see him again.  We tried for years to find each other,  Jonny even had an appeal put on TV for his missing brothers but never quite caught each other up, he passed away in 2006. Tony and I are now in contact. We one day hope to find Peter ….

Kevin Alan Sales

We lived at 57 Charlwood Rd until 1957. The Labour Club was built in our back garden. The Luxon’s lived opposite and I remember the Bibby and the Galanakis and Mahoney families. I live in Australia and have photos from our prefab days.

I met with some of you in St George’s Hall recently and chatted about the child who died in the sand in Belle Vale in the 1950s. You asked me to send you the photograph I spoke of and tell you what I knew about the tragedy. I don’t know the little boy’s name but when you suggested David it sounded familiar and I have a vague memory that his brother was named John but I might have dreamt that .

This is the story of the tragedy that happened to the little boy as my Dad, brother and sister describe it and as I was told by my late Mum.

My maternal aunt was Ruth Wade. In the post-war years she lived with her husband Harold and daughter Patricia (Pat) in a Belle Vale prefab (or a ‘freefab’ as we children called them – still call them). I don’t have their address but I could get it if it’s important as my sister Susan, was born there in 1952 so it will be on her birth certificate. My brother Rob remembers their home backed onto an area ringed with a chain link fence which Uncle Harold utilised as a massive aerial for his short-wave radio. Rob wonders if perhaps it was the golf course. I have some very clear memories of visiting Belle Vale as a small child. I recall going to a self-service shop for the very first time and spending an afternoon picking wild flowers in a field with my cousin. Coming from the narrow, terraced streets of Anfield, I also vividly remember Belle Vale’s wide, clean roads and an incredible sense of light and open space which has stayed with me when I remember that time. Auntie Ruth was rehoused in one of the new Belle Vale properties and stayed there until about 1963 but her friend lived there longer and I recall visiting her home in the late 60s and recollect that her son, who was younger than me, had the most wonderful toys.

Auntie Ruth’s friend had once had another son. I believe that he is the boy in the smart coat on the attached photograph which was taken in Belle Vale on 2 June 1953, the day of the Queen’s Coronation. I think he looks about five or six years old so would guess he was born circa 1947. Standing on his right is my cousin Pat who was almost ten. I don’t know anything about the five little girls. The story goes that the boy and two brothers were playing on a construction site in Belle Vale. Both Rob and Sue remember it as being the shopping centre. The three boys dug a tunnel deep into a massive heap of builders’ sand and two of them crawled in. The boy went first followed by one of the brothers but the weight of the sand collapsed the tunnel on top of them trapping the two boys. The other brother ran screaming for help and workmen from the site came very quickly. They dug frantically until they found the brother and by grabbing him by his feet managed to pull him out alive but the sand collapsed still further and by the time they reached the boy he had suffocated. But for the quick actions of these workmen, this innocent boys’ game could so easily have cost not one, but two children their lives and if the sand had held up just a bit longer before collapsing, all three might have died that day. I don’t know when this was for sure but Dad reckons the boy was only about ten years old so circa 1957 which is supported by the other photograph I’ve attached. Taken in 1957, it shows Rob and Sue playing on a tricycle and pedal car that had belonged to the boy which were given to them after his death. I’m the cute baby in the pram.

The boy’s mother was distraught and totally inconsolable. I remember Mum telling me that such was her grief that her husband feared that she would never recover and sought medical advice. The doctor told him that the only way to save his wife’s sanity was to have another child so that’s what they did and she gave birth to the boy that I remember, the one with the wonderful toys.

I grew up with warnings from my parents not to dig in sand, warnings illustrated by the dreadful tragedy that befell a little boy smiling shyly on a photograph, but there’s no-one left in my family who remembers the exact details and you know what it’s like, memories play tricks and stories get changed over the years. I would just love to know this little lost boy’s name and there has to be someone out there who can tell me. I guess that the two brothers are probably in their late 60s now while the boy’s brother must be in his early fifties. Obviously they would know the dead boy’s name and when he died and could almost certainly tell me how much of the story I’ve got right.

The third attached photograph I was delighted to find on (and pilfer from) your website. On the far left of the photo is my cousin Pat with my Auntie Ruth standing behind her with her arms folded. Do you think the little boy on the front row in the same boy from my photograph? Could be, so perhaps his mother is also in this picture.

I will look forward to hearing from you plus anyone else who wishes to correspond.

We were one of the last families to leave the prefabs in Besford Road. That day is as clear in my mind as it was then. It was 17th March 1970. My baby sister was 3 months old, I was 14 and it was my Dad’s birthday. I left home to go to Childwall Valley High School. I had cookery that day and baked a birthday cake for my Dad. The very strange thing was I left home at 8.15 a.m. and returned to my new home at 4.30 p.m. we had moved to Woolton! That was how simple it was for me. Not so for my Mother! Not only had she to pack up a whole family’s belongings and to move to another house – she had to make sure I had all the ingredients for my cookery lesson!
It took years to settle into our new home and 40 years later I still miss that prefab. The best years of my life were spent in Besford Road.
by Eileen Van Der Brock (nee McHale) of 33 Besford Road

At Christmas when we were young, my sisters & I would be in the living-room writing letters to Father Christmas. Mum would help us send them up the chimney. Once they had gone we would call out to Father Christmas asking him if he had got our letters. In a big booming voice he would rely ‘Yes, and I hope you are all being good for Mum & Dad – I find out these things you know! If you are very good you may get what you have asked for.”
The shock, surprise and excitement of hearing Father Christmas calling down OUR chimney was unbelievable. Many years passed and it wasn’t until we’d left the prefabs that the truth came out. Dad would tell us he was taking the dog for a walk and go out of the back door, slipping back in the front door unnoticed. He would go straight into the bathroom and open the airing-cupboard, calling to us as if he was Father Christmas. We never recognised his voice as it was much deeper and muffled as it carried through the airing-cupboard into the chimney in the living-room.

This is just one of the great memories I have of the prefab days.
by Eileen Van Der brock (nee McHale) of 33 Besford Road

I have just read the 2nd book on the prefab day’s (fantastic) I have some photo’s of our day’s in the prefabs , we lived at 96 Clover dale road Jimmy , Stella , Monica and Billy Smyth, we had great childhood there and great neighbours, I have photo’s of my sister when she was the May Queen with my mum and Aunty helping out as they paraded through the prefabs, we all went to Joseph Williams then on to Our Lady of the Asumption , My mother worked at the Blue cap , were I ended up serving my apprentiship, what I didn’t want to do was waste your time sending you photo’s that you would not use EG football team from our Lady’s of the Asumption school.

Saturday 1st August 2009 – I was driving along Childwall Valley Road / Belle Vale Road on the way to Springwood Crematorium where my mother was cremated in 1994. This is a journey I make annually, (also for my father who died 29th August 2000) and every time I do, I think of Joseph Williams CP. When I got back home I decided to look up the school on the internet, something I had never considered before. Anyway I did and it led me to a link regarding the Belle Vale Prefab Project. I missed the time when this all came out in 2007 otherwise I would have inputted sooner. If I may, let me tell you my background.

My name is Mike Bradley. I was born 18th March 1944 and, after WWII, my mother – Gladys, father – Alfred (Fred) and I lived in one room at the top of a house on Princes Avenue, Toxteth. From age of 5 to 7 I went to Granby Street Junior School. I had asthma as a child and due to poor health, and the conditions we lived in, we were offered a transfer to either Speke or BelleVale. In 1951 we moved to Belle Vale, address 110 Whinhurst Road. I started school at Joseph Williams CP as soon as I could and have a number of memories about the area and the school which may be of interest.

When we moved into the prefab at first it was overrun by any amount of weeds, green pea shoots etc., Fortunately my father was working for Liverpool Corporation Parks + Gardens and loved gardening so set about refurbishing the place (to the point that, in time, he won prizes for best kept garden). My first friend was from a family over the road (?) named Geoff Donovan. The prefabs were in units of six and we lived on the side adjacent to Childwall Valley road. Over the years the sets of six developed their own community with very little changes. Our neighbours to left and right were the McCormicks and Corsons, Opposite were the Cranneys and Kitchens. There were two spinsters directly opposite but I don’t remember their names. I made friends with other children outside our six – Martin Lloyd who, I remember his father was from London and supported Leyton Orient. Harry Hoare whose father was a magician and, at the time, had the only television. A number of us went to his house at 5pm every Saturday to watch Tex Ritter shows. There was a lady named Dorcas Kelly who lived opposite Martin Lloyd. There were other people including Ken and Ray Smythe, David Hughes, Malcolm Gofton, Harry Noon, Yvonne Stephenson and others. People including Georgie Moon, Kenny Whitehead, Grant McCulloch, Henry Nuttall, Keith Beddowes lived on the other side of Childwall Valley road. We all used to play football on the park at Gateacre and also on the field near the brook on our estate. There are others but their names escape me now. In the early 60’s when the Beatles were starting someone (Richie / Ricky ?), again can’t remember names, started a band called the ‘Young Ones’ and appeared on TV !!

At Joseph Williams I passed my entrance test and was in the same class as Mike McCartney. I remember him being big for his age, I think his birthday was November 1943. I can also remember Paul McCartney in short pants and being a good artist at that age. This was the period when they were living at 12 Ardwick Avenue (?), Speke (which is shown in the video for the Frog Chorus). Strange (?) but I remember the girls names more clearly – June Snow, Sandra Henderson, Margaret Gordon, Margaret Fairhurst (who lived at 3 Bridgefield Road ?). Teachers I remember included the Misses Breeze and Ward (a good looking lady) and, particularly, Fred Wallard, a great teacher and person.

I remember the Church in Bridgefield Road, shaped like a barn, the shops along Bridgefield Road which, if I remember correctly, from left to right were, cake shop, butcher, greengrocer, newsagent, fish and chips and chandler. We had a paraffin stove and had to buy paraffin by the gallon. I remember playing roller skate hockey on the tarmac in front of the shops. I also remember the community centre down near to Lee Park which was a converted church and owned by two Canadians. I don’t remember their names but don’t think they had any children of their own so they set up film shows every Saturday afternoon for sixpence. Good value for cartoons, serial, and major films. They also gave me a kitten, which we had with us for some 13 years.

I remember the park between the shops and the school which had a central show piece and had six paths from the perimeter to the centre. The local Parks + Garden bobby, Reg Williams, lived in the prefabs and was a friend of my father. He once caught me messing about on the centrepiece and I got a rollicking from my dad. Joseph Williams was also used by the Salvation Army as a Sunday school which I attended.

I remember the rag and bone man with his goldfish in jam jars in exchange for old clothing. The Prices bread van man who I helped every Saturday morning in exchange for a jam doughnut !

The other thing about the prefab estate was that there were five farms around it, in particular, one owned by Bill Prickett who also was the local milkman. Bill Pricketts son, Billy Junior was also the cocky watchman at the playground by the railway lines. He knew my father through Liverpool Corporation and collared me and some of my mates as we were crossing the railway lines one day and I got another rollicking from my dad.

Belle Vale was a great flat area, no high rise monsters, with lots of countryside and we used to walk or bike everywhere. If the prefabs had a failing it was the aluminium content which made them cold in winter, subject to condensation, and warm in summer but, as a property, we had two bedrooms, hall, bathroom, living room and kitchen, all with ample built in cupboards and drawers. Pretty adequate for the time.

Anyway, sorry if I’ve been longwinded but the memories seemed to come flooding back. The sad part of the prefab history is when it was decided they had to come down and the communities were broken up. Some going to housing and some to those filing cabinets called flats – us included.

People were leaving piecemeal from the prefabs which was leaving unattended properties around those who were still there. ‘’OUTSIDERS’’ would come and take lumps of garden or wood or fencing and anything else from them. It hurt my old man as he had built up his garden over the years so, instead of letting his garden be vandalized, he offered them pieces of turf from our garden. I have some photos which show what I mean.

After 14 years we eventually left in 1965 and moved to Hartsbourne Heights. A sad time but one with a lot of memories.

Hope above may have been some interest to you.

I lived in the prefabs, derogatory term tin town for 16 years.  It was a peaceful environment, open doors, loads of kids.  When they built Lee Park it all changed and the inner city moved in.  As a child growing up it was a comfortable non threatening place.  We walked to school, we played in the streets and the fields over the railway.  There were footpaths and bits of history all around us.  We were insular and secure!  I guess after the war all adults just wanted to get on with normal things, but it was a constant item in the background in our family.  I was a wanderer and roamed all over Neatherly, Childwall, Widnes and over to Huyton.  Once I got a bicycle I ranged even more.  Looking back I realize just how protected and innocent we children all were.  It was a good start in life with many lasting friendships.  I remember!

I remember that in the Prefabs we had a coal hole.We used to climb  up on the railway line behind the Co-Op and using a bucket collect coal.Sometimes when no one was about ,we would visit a  train bunker,  and coal used  to accidently fall into our buckets.

I also remember placing 4 and 6 in nails on the railway tracks and waiting for a train to come by and flatten them.We would then use them to make arrows ans spears.

I think I was with Ronnie McDiarmid and a couple of his mates and there was one of those self propelled railway trucks which you cranked a handle up and down to move it and we took a trip on it out of the siding, luckily for us there was no train coming either way…boys will be boys!!!

I remember we used to play football in the Taylor’s back garden in Lineside Road   (Bernard and Brian) with Ronnie and Leanard McDiarmid and several more boys whose names I can’t remember  and the game would be over when the first team scored a hundred goals…yes those games would last for days.