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Home <> Lifestory Library <> Explore By Location <> <> <> The Lamplighter And The Coalman




  Contributor: A PickardView/Add comments



The following are memories recalled by Mrs A Pickard, as recorded by Hanover Housing Association in their book 'Tale of the Century' published in 1999.

I was born in 1913 in Chorley, Lancashire. I remember the lamplighter coming along the street carrying a long pole with an oil fired taper at the end. He would open the glass shade of the lamp and light the gas mantle, close the door and walk to the next one.

Milk was delivered by the farmer to our door, and put into jugs using a measure which looked like a cup with a very long handle. It was not pasteurised and the first step towards purer milk was the introduction of Grade A delivered in pint bottles. The milk float was drawn by a horse who knew its way so well that it moved from house to house without prompting.

Coal for the fires also came by a heavy horse and cart in hundred-weight sacks and was shot into the coal cellar by the coalman. He was very strong and wore a sack over his head and down his back for protection and was black from hear to toe with coal dust.

Groceries were bought from the shop and weighed out there for the customer. Sugar was put into a thick deep blue paper bag. Butter was cut into neat blocks using a wooden butter pat, weighed and wrapped by the skilful assistant. Nothing was prepacked. Biscuits, tea, flour etc. were weighed and put into bags. Vinegar was measured from a barrel and the customer would refill his bottle.

We had open coal fires, and first thing in the morning grates were cleared, then set with paper, wood and coal ready for lighting. The fire coated everything with dust and the smuts from the chimney would soil the washing on the line. Carpets had to be hand brushed and rugs were hung out and beaten by hand using a carpet beater. |I remember our annual spring-cleans well.

We walked everywhere including a mile to school. In Infant School we had sand trays in which we traced our letter and we wrote on slates with squeaky pencils. Clogs were a common footwear. I never had any but I envied the children who could make a spark by scraping the clog iron on the pavement. We played with a whip and top, marbles, skipping ropes and hoops.

I married in 1936 and was a housewife during the war years. It was a long spell of 'make do and mend,' and there were years of austerity even when the war ended.

Gradually supplies came back and we returned to normal life. Then came the tremendous technological advances and we acquired washing machines, fridges, radio, television, telephones, etc.

This is the end of my story. Changes have come too fast for me to keep up to date. I leave the world to my grandchildren.
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