Bedford
General History
Bedford 1920-1939 by Mr. Frank Richards
Bedford > General History > Reminiscences> Frank Richards
Our Home
I was born in a house in what must be the shortest street in the old part of Bedford - Little Grove Place. As it is a cul-de-sac the immediate surroundings were very quiet. For a small terraced house - albeit the end one - we had a moderately sized garden. Our house was not our own, but rented and the landlord offered it for sale to my father, but he could do nothing about it as it would have cost three-hundred and fifty pounds. At this time my father was a moulder at Howard's the agricultural engineers in Kempston Road.
It was a three-bedroomed house and as I was the only child there was no problem of over-crowding. We had no bathroom or inside lavatory. All washing had to be done at the kitchen sink. Heating was by coal fire and confined to the two main rooms downstairs. There was none in the bedrooms. Lighting was by gas which was only in the front room and living room, candles being used in the kitchen and bedrooms. The front room was used only when we had a party or when visitors called.
It must have been a hard life for my parents in many ways. Every morning in the winter the fire had to be lit; and coal had to be fetched from the outside shed. And what a day was Monday for my mother! It was washing day. The brick-built copper in the kitchen had to be lit. All washing was done by hand and put through the monstrous mangle that stood in a covered recess outside. My mother often used to spend her evenings ironing, darning or mending clothes. For all these chores I still remember her as of a happy disposition, and this was borne out by her constant singing at her work.
All this was in the twenties. At the end of this time we had electricity installed with a light in every room and an electric fire in the front room. It was, however, in 1932 that disaster struck. Howard's works closed down and my father was out of work. Luckily he was unemployed for only a short time. He got a job as a storeman in the electricity showrooms in the High Street.
Working conditions were more congenial, the job was secure, and he stayed there until he retired in 1946.
Life went on very much as a routine and we certainly found ways of amusing ourselves. My father was a man of many parts. Besides looking after the garden and tending his allotment in Newnham Lane he was a keen wireless pioneer, a music lover, an enthusiastic sports watcher and a player of bowls in Russell Park. What he really excelled in, however, was photography, developing his own prints in a self-made dark room in the garden. I still have in my possession some shots he took of Edwardian Bedford which must be classics of their kind.
My mother's spare time activities centred round the now defunct St. Cuthbert's Church, where she and her friends were members of the Mothers' Union, which met for afternoon sessions. There were a number of church socials at East Hall in York Street where we, youngsters went for an evening of games and refreshments. Of course I had to attend Sunday school and for a few years was a member of the Cubs. In the summer time we used to go on Sunday school outings to such outlandish places as Millbrook or Turvey where we had an afternoon of games and picnic food.
Our holidays were of a very modest kind owing to their cost. We sometimes had a day at Southend or took a trip to London usually to the Zoo or Madame Tussaud's. Weeks away from home were very rare, and although some families did go to Lowerstoft or Clacton, I went only once with my mother to Great Yarmouth along with a friend and her son. Where we were fortunate was that we had relations in Swaledale, Yorkshire, and we spent holidays with them in this delightful part of the country, boarding a motor-coach at Biggleswade to take us up the Great North Road. Needless to say that we never had a car as neither did any of our friends or relations as it would have cost a hundred and fifty pounds. I think it is significant of the static life that most working class people spent in those days, when I recall that neither of my parents ever left England and my father never saw the sea until he was forty.
Page last updated: 22nd January 2014