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I was born in Ramsdale Avenue, Leigh Park, Havant, wrote Ann Osmond, well actually St Mary's Hospital, Portsmouth, on 2nd October 1958, born to a life of poverty.
I remember in the 60's and 70's we (my sister, brother, and I) were forced to follow the coalman and pick up any coal he'd dropped. We only had one dress each (my brother didn't wear dresses of course) to wear to school.
We were tortured by poverty and my father's pride: he pretended to people we weren't poor. Dad grew veggies in an allotment at Bedhampton, next to Rachel Maddocks' school and the railway station.
We used to sleep with newspapers in between the blankets to keep warm. We had to endure a diet of pigs' heads, tripe, bread and milk, and veg from the allotment. My parents tried but they never managed to get out of the poverty trap; they both died in 1987. Life must have been as awful for them as it was for us: we never had Xmas presents; we had a bar of cooking chocolate for Easter.
We used to lie to all our friends that we had lots of Xmas presents or we were made fun of; we learnt very quickly that poverty was as bad as having a plague.
I am still haunted by my childhood, as are my siblings. But I do fondly remember the smell of fires burning in people's grates as we walked home from school. My first job when I was still at school was in the evenings at the Spar shop in Middle Park Way, Leigh Park where I worked on the deli counter while Don and Pete managed the store; they were very kind.
I went to Broomfield School, Middle Park Way (now renamed `The Park` school). I remember the crumpet man on Saturdays used to walk up the street ringing a bell to get people to buy crumpets, and the football mail man to bring dad his football mail in all weathers, one of his few luxuries.
I have been a bus driver for 14 years, and I remember when bus conductors had tickets on a roll that looked like raffle tickets. I seem to recall that summers used to be very long and very hot.
I was a member of the St John's Ambulance Brigade, Havant Branch; they knocked the centre down years ago.
Whilst we don't see the awful poverty in our rich country, it is still there: we went to school with summer sandals on with lino in to keep the feet dry; never had new clothes, they all came from jumble sales or WRVS.
We had a charity give us a box of food for Xmas, which none of us could eat as it was too rich, donated from rich people's cupboards, stuff we couldn't pronounce yet alone eat.
On the positive side I remember walking the streets in safety, walking miles to a phone that cost a penny to make a call.
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