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  Contributor: Jack HillView/Add comments



Jack Hill was born on a farm near Leicester, worked in a bank, and laboured as a Bevin Boy during the war before working for a London firm of architects. Jack continues his colourful story:-

I was reading the other day of a lady who daren't get out of her bed most days because she can't afford the heating in her house.

This reminded me of the flat which we rented in Acocks Green in 1959, situated over a garage which was unheated so all surfaces in the building were uninsulated and exposed to the cold.

We had portable electric heaters for the living room but the bathroom had the most primitive form of gas heater. It was simply a broad jet set at highish level on a bracket, giving off more light than heat and so the flame caused condensation to run down the walls.

We had very little furniture so I cut a slab of thick plywood to make a dining table shaped something like a boomerang.

Beryl, my wife, enjoyed her time as a temp typist but found that when she went to work at Dunlop Tyre works in Erdington she could get the typing done in an hour or so and then upset the regulars by asking for something else to do to fill the rest of the day.

Very quickly we found somewhere else to live, as we couldn't stand the freezing conditions. It was only a one room flat with a tiny kitchen cupboard and a bed that stood vertically against the wall during the daytime and was pulled down for sleeping. The ablution facilities were shared with the two other people on that floor.

The house was in Hagley Road and the lamppost outside the gate was a regular spot for prostitutes to congregate.

Behind the house was a bird sanctuary but we never found the way in. However it was a consolation to know that nature wasn't too far away. I recall that the rent was five guineas per week [£5 and 5 shillings].

We made friends with John & Sheila Thompson who lived in the attic and often we would spend the evening with them, as the atmosphere under the roof was much nicer than ours. We kept in touch until Beryl died.

Jack's next move was to Lea in Herefordshire and his memoirs are continued there.
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