Escaping in Suburbia

One my overwhelming feelings in the recent lockdown, was that of nostalgia. By nature I tend to think about the past, but the never ending sense of time took me back to my school holidays in the 1970s. I started to get inspired about the mundane suburban south London life of my youth; the high street gossip of my mother, the shopkeepers and the playground rumours.

The Bride of Catford.

Although about aged 3 at the time I still recall this particular part of Catford, the looming old dark church opposite Timpson’s Coach Station and the drapers that still had a pulley system for the cashiers money sent wizzing across wires on the ceiling. Local south Londoner Boris Karloff was born in Forest Hill and Elsa Lanchester lived in Catford, so here they meet outside the gloomy Church of St Laurence and the equally gothic town hall.

Today Chiesmans, tomorrow the world.

Most children growing up in south east London in the 1960s will have come across Chiesmans department store in Lewisham, with the obligatory visit to Father Christmas. My favourite part was down in the basement, which always seemed full of pipes. Here there was the toy department and an indoor amusement area with a dalek ride you could get into.

This town wasn’t big enough for the both of us.

The playground rumour of Worsley Bridge School, Beckenham during the early 1970’s took to a new level when it was said Los Angeles pop group Sparks had moved in nearby. The source of the rumour also told me he has a swimming pool in this back garden with a baby shark in it!

Sausage rolls; a cut above the rest.

Kennedy’s were a south London chain of sausage and meat shops forever locked in time, in their 1930’s splendour. The branch in Beckenham High Street; which sold my favourite sausage rolls, was frequented by my mother who always told me that the young man who worked there cut his own hair. He certainly did, as I always thought he looked like Mr Spock from Star Trek.

Chinese takeaway.

Someone once told me that Bob Monkhouse who had once lived locally near Kelsey Park had acquired old railway memorabilia from Beckenham Junction station.  Apparently he collected everything, so here he is, station sign in hand, not far from home by the ‘Chinese Garage’ a landmark always pointed out to me by my dad as we passed in our old Cortina.

The last days of Mr Griffiths.

The legendary Mr Griffiths was the woodwork and craft teacher at my school and his  fame came from his attitude towards the boys who he terrorised. I have never witnessed such extreme violence towards young children and am still surprised he got away with it. Years later some friends who were practicing their driving, saw him now retired sitting on his Honda Club opposite the school; just watching.

The ghosts of my life.

In my last year of secondary school a classmate mentioned that he’d ‘seen that bloke out of Japan’ in the dry cleaners over the weekend. Of course it was very possible as Beckenham born lead singer, David Sylvian’s mum and dad lived close to Penge East station.

Dave and Ange go to Safeways.

My mother came home from the high street a couple of times with stories of ‘Bowie’ encounters. Not quite the ‘rock god’ then just another local eccentric. She once saw his wife Angie in Safeways at the cheese counter and another time across the road in Woolworths, David was buying himself some tights.

Fire at the Art Centre.

One night my father woke us up to tell us that the Arts Centre was on fire and we should be ready to evacuate. The whole sky seemed to light up as gas cylinders started to explode. The next day our back garden was covered in a strange snow of tiny blacken pieces of canvas.