In addition to a harmonium, organ, piano, or even a tin whistle or a mouth organ, to create music in the home, came a GRAMOPHONE, a weird looking box-like contrivance with a kind of horn on it. You had to wind it up, then put on a record and the sound, usually a human voice, came through. Silly like, 1 believed there was a man or woman somehow concealed in the box. In my child's mind there was no other explanation. There was one record which was played called 'Angels of Mons'- "Why did you come with your White Wings Outspread". It was a song about the way Allied Troops had held the Breach when the enemy forces had them at their mercy. Devine intervention? I've never heard the record since, but 1 have heard a man of my age humming the tune. I asked him what it was. He told me "The Angels of Mons". He confirmed what 1 had already heard. His story was the same. A film bearing that title "The Angels of Mons" was later shown at the pictures. I was there.

Oakengates Town Band 1930

Christmas was noted for one of the local bands, St. Georges Temperance Silver Band or the Salvation Army Band coming to the end of the row of houses or outside one of the pubs at intervals during Boxing Day. Christmas Eve meant hanging up your stocking on a rail over the mantelpiece. Usually there was a Christmas Stocking with sweets inside, an orange, perhaps a little toy - a wooden engine in my case - but never the tin drum or magic lantern which I implored Santa to bring. Anyhow, what Santa couldn't do I would try and do for myself.

Together with other children of like mind we found at George's Toy Shop in Market Street that toys could be purchased through their Christmas Club, starting to pay 12 weeks before Christmas. My choice was a magic lantern with a few slides, 1 penny per week total - a fortune of 1 shilling. How I scraped to save the coveted 1 penny, collecting jam jars, getting coal in by shovelling it into the coalhouse or cellar, running errands and taking dinners, but the effort was well rewarded.

Possessing a magic lantern one could give shows in the coalhouse charging a cigarette card to come in, or a marble. The running expenses of us children were heavy. 1 1/2 pennies to go into the Pictures, 1 penny for a variety of sweets, half a penny for some Kali, and if you could afford it - a Machintoshes Caramel - a luxury indeed - during War Time at half a penny each. To acquire a Frys Cream Bar was the ultimate in sweets in my case.

THE PICTURE HOUSE

The Grosvenor, Station Hill

Places of entertainment for old and young were the Picture houses over the Old Town Hall (being the main one). For a short time there was also the Hippodrome which is now the offices of Maddocks at the bottom of Station Road. Before this it was, for a while, a skating rink. I went to the Hippodrome only a few times.

The picture house was a very popular and busy place, with 'houses' twice nightly and a matinee on Saturday afternoon. This was certainly something to look forward to. To miss the serial was tragic. To see your hero being drowned with water up to his neck - then come again next week - to say nothing of the antics of Charlie Chaplin. It puzzled us youngsters. How was it all done? How we would anxiously queue up waiting for opening time. Prior to that however, we welcomed the Tranters sweet man, Mr. Eccleshall. On a stall just inside the Market Hall he would lay the sweets out on tin trays. How much could we buy for this half penny or a penny, as it cost one and half pennies to go into the pictures; or two and a half pence if you could afford to go in the balcony. Being loaded with sweets helped up to await the opening of the house doors. The commissionaire was a man known as 'Bobby' Morris, a retired policeman. It didn't pay to fall foul of him. He was a hefty fellow. He would bellow out "You snotty nosed young devils, stop pushing". He had good reason to use such strong words. Handkerchief were a luxury, snot-rags were the usual things used, any old piece of rag. When not available, then it was the cuff of your coat or gandsey which soon became hard and shiny with the accumiuated muscus. The doors being fully opened "Bobby Morris" would allow us to scramble up the stairs to the booking office. The seats were just ordinary forms, but in the balcony there were plush seats. The films were silent. A man, Mr. Poppitt, played a piano to accompany the various scenes. How hard he worked, especially when the cowboys were riding or a fist fight was taking place. A comic picture was the usual end to the programme. How timidly some of us younger children would glance up to the large beam in the roof just in front of the screen, expecting to see all the mice come out of their holes to watch the comic. I never saw any - how gullible youngsters can be, accepting what adults would have them believe. Of course it was only a leg pull.

Two of the best loved songs which were a product of the war were one by Felix Powell "Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag and smile, smile, smile", and 'Keep the home fires burning while your hearts are yearning". How we children loved to join in the singing as we waited for the pictures to commence. In later years I came to know Mr. Poppitt, the pianist, and he told me how the tears rolled down his cheeks as he played those grand tunes deeply moved by the inspired manner in which the audience joined in.

Bank holidays were the usual time for making trips to the Wrekin or Lilleshall Hall. This to younger people meant walking all the way. Wagonettes were available to Wellington and to Lilleshali, if you could afford to pay the fare. One way to Lilleshall was along the 'lines' to the Granville, down Muxton Lane then across the five fields to Lilleshall. My mother used to relate how, in her childhood days, outings would go from Donnington Wood to Lilleshall on the barges along the canal. At the Granville there was a small tin church which is now at the lronbridge Museum at Blists Hill, my father played the organ for a few years. I have often gone with him there in the winter time and in the dark nights I used to like to carry the little paraffin oil lantern to see our way down the 'lines'. Lanterns were commonly used at night in places where there were no street lamps. Some of the lanterns were 4 glass panels with ventilation on the top and a candle inside, others were similar to what I carried - a paraffin affair.

One of the places which always interested me was Millingtons Timber Yard, (near Commercial Way now). Watching the great circular saws cutting the huge Pieces of wood and seeing the sawdust failing like snow was fascinating. Some of this sawdust was used for putting on the floors of the pubs, also for use in the spitoons which graced the floors.

The part of the Dollick nearest to the quarry side (Albion Bank) was a council ash tip. Evidence of this was still there in 1980. It was here we children used to scavenge for anything useful. One day we found an unopened tin of "Cafe-Au-Lait". What a treasure! To buy a cup of that in the Cafe in Oakengates was beyond our pockets.

Copyright:  Estate of  Moses Evans