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The following are memories recalled by Helen Owers, as recorded by Hanover Housing Association in their book 'Tale of the Century' published in 1999.
Like many things remembered from childhood, bonfire nights past, from the 1960's, seemed so much more exciting. The fun started some weeks in advance, autumn then seemed to start earlier (which is in conflict with my memories of summers being hotter and longer!) and therefore, so did wood gathering.
The party itself was always in a neighbour's garden and everyone contributed their garden rubbish to the huge bonfire.
My undoubtedly selective memory tells me that the day was always a slightly damp, misty one. School was endured in a frenzy of anticipation and crayon and tissue paper renditions of fireworks. Darkness, of course, came later on the 5th November, but soon enough the bonfire was lit and silhouettes gathered around the inferno.
Strangely, however, I have no clear recollection of the fireworks. I can remember the saltpetre smell of the gunpowder, and the haze of the smoke left hanging in the mist. I can remember too, the jumping jacks and the Catherine wheels (still my favourites) and the privilege of being allowed, under supervision, to light the blue touch paper. But the display itself, not a jot.
What I do remember is the food. No present day bonfire party can ever yield the gastronomic delights of my childhood. Jacket potatoes, wrapped in foil and thrown in the fire, then later tossed from one chilled hand to the other as they were unwrapped and smothered in butter.
Sausages roasted to a crunch. A vat of mushy peas with lashings of malt vinegar. Home-made treacle toffee, like rich brown glass, that jammed your teeth together and rendered you speechless. Toffee apples, made with home-grown apples and home-made toffee.
Sticky gingerbread fragrant and spicy. Steaming apple and pear pies made from windfalls. Chestnuts, picked from the tree in the garden and thrown onto the embers to sizzle in their skins until they split. Illicit sips of home-brewed cider and beer and, later, camp coffee and evaporated milk made from water boiled in an old kettle on the fire.
Treasures indeed! Why, I wonder, do I remember the food so much more clearly than the fireworks? Maybe technology has improved modern fireworks and they are indeed better than those of yesterday. Food cooked from produce grown in your own garden however, is disappearing with every year.
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