ENVIRONS: HAROLD HILL, COLLIER ROW

 


BARLEY LANE 'LOONEY BIN'

Ah! The insensitiveness of those words today. I read that this venerable institution is now known as the Goodmayes Mental Health Facility. However, back in the late 40's and early '50's its official title was the Barley Lane Lunatic Asylum, or to young pre-teen boys,The Looney Bin.
Barley Lane, for the uninitiated, was a meandering road that ran from somewhere south beyond Goodmayes Railway Station all the way down to the Eastern Avenue at the Hawbush. I recall Barley Lane one morning
in what I believe was '48 or '49 when (the then) Princess Elizabeth rode down it on her way to open something or the other. That was the only time I ever saw her in person. I recall we were ushered from
Chadwell Primary School and I believe we walked to Goodmayes in a long line and stood for hours to see a couple of Daimlers go flashing by in a couple of seconds. We cheered and waved our Woolworths Union
Jacks and then it was all over and we had another mile to walk back to school. But enough of this, theis tale is about the Looney Bin.
As a youngster I heard that the Looney Bin had some wonderful conker trees inside the high walls. One would have to scale these walls to get inside but once on the premises, the rewards would be great!
Consequently one fair Saturday afternoon somewhere between the summer and Christmas holidays I set out with two accomplices to gather the fruits of the 'Bin. We mounted the wall at the northern end of the grounds and carefully looked around from the heights so get our bearings. There was no one to be seen and the beautiful gardens were dotted with large horsechestnut trees bearing lots of spiky green balls. On this first visit we saw no one and managed to collect a couple of dozen conkers between us. Subsequently we hid from people wandering the grounds who we told each other were dangerous looneys of various persuasions. One day we did meet and talk to an inmate, a nice old boy who I remember had a wonderful fair isle cardigan with one cuff almost gnawed away. He seemed harmless and there were three of us so we asked him if he was one of the looneys and he said he wasn't a looney and was only there until his mum got better from her accident (we asked not what kind of accident she had suffered) but that he didn't like the food. He showed us a particuarly nice tree which we attacked with hurled branches and
which provided us with several large conkers which we gathered up and ran off with. We never spoke to anyone else there but we were chased off the grounds on several occasions by staff members who were far to slow to catch us nine and ten year olds.
I learned more of the Looney Bin later. Chadwell Heath had its fair share of mentally disturbed people at the time. Stories about these various characters were bandied about amongst parents and children and most characters were well known. On my way to St. Bedes Catholic Church each Sunday morning, in Jarrow Road, we would pass the house of "Colly". This was a young boy about my own age who would sit for hours at a piano in the front room, curtains wide open, and bash the keys at random while wearning a collander on his head. My mother swore he actually could play a few tunes but I personally couldn't recognize any of them. Colly was a regular visitor to Barley Lane for treatment. Then there was "Peanut", a gentlemen who had a strangely shaped head and who rode a mo-ped. He also lived in Jarrow Road and the game with him was to shout "Peanut!!!" as loud as you could as he rode by on his way home from work. He would brake violently and go after the shouter with what appeared to very bad intentiones. I don't believe he actually ever caught anyone but he caused some serious fear to be struck into little boys. Later I actually met him at a local football match and found out his name was Norman and all he really had was a bad facial tick as far as I could see. Perhaps Barley Lane knew better!
When we moved from Chadwell Heath Lane to the more sophisticated Blackbush Avenue we found another Barley Lane regular. This was Raymond who lived opposite us and who I had known most of my life. He always seemed normal to me but when I returned on vacation after my first Latin American stint, my mum told me that Raymond went to Barley five days a week. He left in the morning, came home at midday and went back again at 2 pm. My mum told me "He's not barmy, he knows enough to come 'ome for his lunch don't he?"
Later, my brother joined the fire brigade and became a second officer. He told me that they got called to the Looney Bin one day and put out a fire in the grounds. Once they had cleared things up he had to question the inmates to find out what happened. One of them told him he was assigned to do some weeding in the vegtable gardens and it was taking far to long. He found a container of gasoline in the garages and sprinkeled this over the gardens and set light so it would burn up the weeds and let him finish quicker. Now that's quite a sensible idea when you come to think of it, however, his enthusiasm got the better of him and the resulting fire did some serious damage to the windows and door of a nearby building.
So now Frank [Bruno} is up at Barley Lane. I wish him luck. He wont see Colly and Raymond of course and the firestarter is long gone. However Barley Lane never had a bad reputation and he will probably be taken good care of. He can probably get some conkers also. These days I find it sad to hear of mentally disturbed people. I've known a few and it matters not how much one tries to help them, they go their own way and rarely get better without professional help. What a shame. (Mike Merry)


Hon Mem Mike Merry shared some thoughts on the Goodmayes Mental Health Facility, formerly known as the Barley Lane Lunatic Asylum. This reminds me of an RLS connection with the South Ockenden (Mental)
Hospital. One afternoon a week in the sixth form was for official extra-curricular activities, e.g. car maintenance, a soccer refereeing course, photography, etc. One of the options was to spend those afternoons at the Hospital taking part in helpful activities to support the patients, or be company for them or whatever.
I didn't take that option as it happens, but I do remember that for a few days one summer holiday, presumably circa 1971, 2 or 3 of us went there as voluntary workers. I am not sure who the others were,
possibly Rob Grover and Rob Brightmore (I don't think either are members of this group).Is the hospital still there, or has it been closed down? (Tim Knights)


Tim Knights reminded me of the South Ockenden hospital. So memory lane (Hugh) beckons:
During my lower sixth year, 1971-1972, I attended South Ockenden hospital on Monday afternoons, I think it was, travelling up to carry out voluntary work in a minibus. I can't recall whether I did this in my upper sixth year too. I certainly was accompanied by non-members Overstall and Hennessey, but must
confess that I can't remember whether any other HMs attended. (E15 - did you go with us? Memory underdrive here.) South Ockenden differs from Barley Lane and Warley in that these last two are for the stereotypical "insane", whereas Ockenden catered for the mentally deficient, so the degree of
institutionalisation tended to be far more widespread. I worked in the Industrial Therapy area and also in the children's wards, with Downs syndrome kids (lovely) and the severely mentally and physically handicapped.
I also worked there for the entire summer break of '72 on a voluntary basis (and met a charming Scottish nurse who'd actually seen Hendrix play at Green's Playhouse, Glasgow).
Whether Ockenden hospital still exists I don't know - although the pub on the green still does (name escapes me). In 1974-1975, disillusioned with the lure of academia, I worked full-time at Warley for a year, and returning to that venerable institution about 8 years ago was dismayed to find it only
about 20% populated, the remaining buildings standing empty and derelict, and (forgive poetic tendency here) occupied only by my memories.
I also recall, vaguely, that the South Ockenden trips were engineered by Rog Hammond, and that he also tutored me in Psychology for a brief spell in the lower sixth, just a couple of hours a week, and not geared up to any formal qualification. What a Chemistry master was doing dabbling in this now escapes me. Any ideas out there? (ash howe, 66-73)


Tim Knights asked re South Ockendon mental hospital "Is the hospital still there, or has it been closed down?"
It's now a housing estate (aren't they all - for S Ockendon read Warley, Claybury et al)called Brandon Heights. Which is why all the local "oddballs" now live alongside other "normal" residents (e.g. my ma in law) and go around threatening them. So much for care in the community eh? (Steve Byrne 63-70)


During my time in the 6th I spent one afternoon at an 'Adult Traing Centre' at the bottom of Harold Hill. I think South Ockendon visits happened later. We spent time just chatting to downes syndrome adults who were able to do a limited amount of paid work. During the time of my visits they were re-cycling time expired film for Ilford Films and making wooden garden furniture by the use of jigs. I found the whole thing very rewarding but took my hat of to the staff who had to supervise full time.
When I was younger, living in Goodmayes, I too was thrown out of the 'Loony Bin' whilst looking for conkers. (Robin Hackshall)


It is still there, Tim, and as I understand it, still operational, but a shadow of its former self. Tim modestly forgets to mention that he and I selflessly gave up a lot of our spare time to run the hospital radio station, which mostly involved being cooped up in the basement with some very gory medical records describing in great detail the amount of limb contraction as rigor mortis set in, a huge collection of prosthetics, and several young ladies from the local youth club. It was in that basement that I had a very bad near-death experiance involving some very antiquated electronics, but fortunately lived to tell the tale. (Vince Leatt)


HAROLD HILL

Roger reminisced: "Living on Harold Hill, wearing any sort of school uniform made going to & from the RLS a daily walk on the wild side"
I agree 100%. Walking against the flow to catch the 66A was like running the gauntlet (although if one left early it was sometimes possible to chat up the birds). This was particularly true on Mondays when CCF uniform was the dress code. We had to endure a lot of abuse from the other unknowledgeables’, but we persevered. (Peter Cowling)


I may have mentioned this before, but I did learn to swim at RLS in spite of the cold. Pete Benson took be under his wing and, towards the end of the year, taught me how to swim outside of normal gym classes.
It would be an embarrassment, now, to have to tell him now that on two occasions I have had to cry for help to get assistance, both within 100 yards of the shore. Once whilst swimming towards a raft in a lake and another time while floating down a river with a lifejacket on and not being able to get to shore. In the latter case my son, who was a qualified life-saver was with me but didn't appear to know what was going on. (Peter Cowling)


Working in Harold Hill sure as hell was an eye-opener! For two or three summer holidays I worked as a Parks Play Leader in Central Park. We always won the big jamboree in Cottons Park at the end of the holiday because the kids "on the Hill" were so competitive and they could all run like hell! (I wonder why?)
But I also met the Harold Hill Teds (no, I wasn't paranoid! I'd been to RLS and I'd encountered Del Monte, McGregor and (dare I say who...?) Harold Hill Teds were pussy-cats by comparison and I was seven years older!).
The Harold Hill bunch were captained by the self-styled King of the Teds (Eddy, I think he was called) who liked to play draughts with a rounders bat in his non-piece-moving hand.
Try explaining the huffing rule to a bat-wielding Ted!!! Try jumping one of his pieces! If you REALLY feel like living dangerously, try setting up a sacrifice that nets you THREE of his pieces! I learned a lot about tact and diplomacy that year! (DGM)


I might have known it! The word "Ted's" is like a red cape to a bull for DGM! Caught him this time though! Michael McGregor was from Dagenham (The Dagenham Ted's were the real McCoy!) and George Delmonte was from Emerson Park. I always remember George getting off the train at Romford and having to go all the way across the Station to that little platform on the southern side where a small train went to various places, Emerson Park included. Of course, I'm not admitting that anyone ever wore a Ted uniform at RLS.BR> During my years at the school we only had one Harold Hill bloke. Terry Schofield. Some how or the other, whether an experiment or not, he came to RLS. He didn't have a father and often would have to stay home to look after his younger brothers/sisters. His family must have been very poor, he would wear shoes with holes in them and his trousers were patched and ragged. He was looked upon as a curiosity at the school and many of the Masters went out of their way to be courteous to him and try and help. He had a native wit that helped him to survive and he did indeed stay at RLS for 5 years.

The story I remember him for has been told before. He came to school with no socks one day and Taffy Thomas asked him why. He told Taffy that his mum had washed them the night before and put them outside to dry. When he went to get them in the morning they were frozen stiff and he couldn't get them on! For those of you who are interested, there had been debate about Harold Hill before. See messages around #1988 etc. (MJM)


At the risk of being accused of getting on my Teddy Horse again... I first saw Ed the Ted in action on a wet Saturday afternoon when they were bored, drenched and saw our pavilion as a dry haven that might offer them some "sport".
There were no kids around so I was having a quiet game of draughts with the other play-leader, a lad from Hornchurch GS.
Ed announced that he was "ace" at draughts and challenged his Neanderthal ramrod to a game. The mis-match was immediately obvious, like Bamber Gascoigne and Trigger from Fools and Horses competing to complete the Times crossword - but STILL Eddy held his bat!
Eventually Trigger accidentally moved a piece into a bridge that Eddy had left and, after Eddy's move, suddenly realised he had a cast-iron jump! His face contorted in primitive delight and he yelled, "Take DET!" as he jumped Eddy's piece. "And you take DET, you c***!" replied Eddy as the rounders bat made serious contact with his henchman's cranium!
Later Eddy challenged me. "No thanks, Eddy" "Why not, scared I'll beat you?" "No Eddy, what scares me is the almost certain knowledge that I'll win and collect 14 thumps with the rounders bat."
"Fourteen? You c***," (Eddy's VERY favourite word!) "There's only twelve pieces." "Yep! One for each piece, one for winning and one for luck. I just don't play draughts that way!"
No, on reflection, I'm not at all sure that I felt I'd made the grade but I avoided the rounders bat! (DGM)


MJM wrote: "During my years at the school we only had one Harold Hill bloke. Terry Schofield." Not wholly correct. From 1947 to 1953 there was a Leslie from Harold Hill who tried to instruct me in the noble art of smoking Woodbines and in another doubtful pursuit... misappropriating my own dinner money to use for coconut ice, a harmonica and more Woodbines. (Robert Priddy)


I believe that, in the 1951 intake, Mick Skinner, Stan Pound, Mick Hughes, and Dave Petley also came from Harold Hill. (JAS)


 I recall a ceremonial parade from Harold Wood station goods yard in the late 50s to the circus site in the now Central Park, Harold Hill.  Whilst there, the elephants also visited an opening promotion for one of the new shops in the recently completed Harold Hill central shopping centre. (John Hawkins)


COLLIER ROW


Collier Row: Born in April 1940, I lived in 26 Shiela Road Collier Row until I joined the RAF in 1958.  Jim Hardy (52 intake) lived at No.33, George Cooke (51 intake) lived at No.30 and Frank Pooley (49 intake ) lived at 59.   MIke Fruin, Brian Abbot, Frank Burrell and Chris Smith also lived somewhere in Collier Row.

I did my first milk round with the Co-Op man and his horse in 1950.  The horse knew his way round and when the last pint had been delivered he was off at the gallop (literally) for the depot in London Road. If you were not on the cart he went without you. I worked for Hitchmans dairies from age 11 until I left RLS  in 56.    2/6d daily and 3/- on Saturdays.  I used to make about 12/- on a Saturday in tips.  The round included Carter

Drive/Close, Sheila Road, Judith Avenue, Lynwood Drive and Dominion Drive. Mars bars were 2.5d (Tuppencehalfpenny) in 1950 and in 1951 they went up to 3d.  The Eagle came out around then and that was 3d.  Potatoes were 2d per lb.  I remember our first TV came just in time for the coronation (We started the milk round at midnight, so we could get home in time to watch). I remember fishing and paddling in the River Rom , sticklebacks and frogs, it was a health hazard even then, when you realize just what drained into it.  I think they built the park around 1950.    I remember the "Rubber Dump" opposite the church (full of wartime rubber dinghies etc) together with the adjacent "haunted" house.     Lodge Lane was all pig farms with the accompanying odours on a bad day. The Sand Pits, where we used to swim and make rafts, was an old quarry off

Collier Row Lane on the way to Chadwell Heath.

Stapleford Tawney had lots of Tiger Moths and Passingford Bridge was a great place to fish if you were any good, but we only had bent pins and cotton reels attached to a 6ft bamboo.. The Blacksmith was still working on the green at Havering Atte Bower. There was an old swimming pool/leisure complex opposite Chase Cross School, bombed during the war and derelict thereafter. The Rabbits Pub where Brian Abbot and I had our first pint at age 15.

Teddy Boys used Bonny’s CORNER CAFE as a meeting place and showground. Bobbys was the only toy shop. Dr Sidhanta was at No.1 Chase Cross Road. Midland Bank was next to the Co-op.  Then Hitchman’s Daires, then United Dairies with all their horses.   We queued for coal during the winter of 1947 at the hardware shop in Chase Cross Road about 6 doors from The Corner Cafe - one shopping bag full each- whole families queued for hours, not daring to speak to, or recognise one another for fear of losing out on a coal ration.   The REX was the cinema, which we visited for Saturday Morning pictures (6d downstairs and 9d upstairs for the rich kids) and I saw Rock Around the Clock for the first time. The hairdresser was opposite, where you got a very short back and sides and a hand full of Brylcreem slapped on yer ed for 1/6d, but you had to wait for the adults to get done before they would do the kids.  The Bell and Gate Pub was at the bottom of the Hill on the left and the Dentist in the Semi-detached house on the corner opposite. The 247 bus ran from the White Hart in Collier Row village to Gidea Park. The 165 from Clockhouse Lane to Hornchurch.  The 175 from Chase Cross to Canning Town.      The 250 went from Theydon Bois to Romford. I remember seeing the invasion forces heading for D Day, going through Collier Row... the bombers going over low in the late evenings on their way to Germany..... the devastation of the Doodle Bugs and the people collecting firewood from the debris in old prams and wheel barrows the morning after.

There used to be PIG BINS in very street where household food waste was collected for the pig farms - They were emptied from time to time, but they didn't arf stink. Traders used to come round the streets at week ends selling all sorts, Vinegar, Shellfish, Horse Manure, "Old Rags for Goldfish", Knife Sharpeners, Horsemeat, Firewood.  The Baker delivered with a handcart six days a week.  The milkman every day - 6d per pint.

Mr Emms was the head master at Clockhouse Lane School.  School milk was one penny a day, and available even in the holidays.  I remember having some lessons in the Air Raid Shelters during 1945 (must have been because of the Doodle Bugs and V2's).

I cannot remember the names of all the roads, because I left in 1958.  But the army used to camp in tents in "Highfield Road" during and just after the war.  (Turn opposite Lynwood avenue from Clockhouse Lane) up near THE GRANGE.  The council built prefabs there just after the war. Any more Collier Rowers out there.  (Colliers Row on old maps - Where was the coal mine?) I have a couple of wartime books about the war in Romford. Once one gets rambling... (Robert Stevens)


Thank you Robert, for the whole account. I found it very interesting. I didn't know Collier Row at all well but the horse and tip bit brought back many happy memories.  My first Saturday job (1956?) was a horse-based greengrocery round starting at the top of Shepherds Hill, Harold Wood.  This group already knows of the lady at 19 Recreation Ave.

Our horse was 'Molly' and she knew exactly where to stop and started by a 'click' from the boss - she wouldn't respond to any noises I  made.  She would negotiate the Bridge Garage traffic lights while we counted money.  Occasionally I would give her a beetroot which she  could not get past the bit.  She would try to dissolve it with her saliva.  It looked a bit like her mouth was bleeding profusely.  For that, we were often rewarded with a fart or worse.  We were two lads and the boss, Bob.  The other lad preceded me and knew most of the tipping customers and had them as 'his own'.  He got greedy and started to pocket the takings as well and was fired.  Bob asked if I could do both jobs and I agreed, of course - always have been a yes-man.  It came with a raise from 4/- to 7/6d for the whole Saturday.  I quickly realised the value of 'his' tips.  I found that by being pleasant to the customers my tip level would rise significantly.  I would have gladly paid Bob 7/6 for the job, it was an insignificant income compared to the tips.  Christmas was truly amazing, I was rich.

The round closed and I had many others.  I only took those with tips except one in Fine Fare, Romford market.  I soon realised how hard it was to work for a wage alone.  I also had a job in a hardware shop in Ardleigh Green run by a couple of very attractive ladies who didn't want to soil their hands on the nasty paraffin in the winter (it was sold in five gallon jerry cans which were supplied by the customer) and I was to draw i using a leaky one-gallon optic.  After a short while, I realised the job was going nowhere so I started asking customers if they would like the filled can taken to their car.  The tip trade opened again.  Then came the summer and I realised I would soon be out of a job, so while the ladies were occupied with customers, I would serve those waiting.  I was soon discovered handling money (I was always honest) and boss lady was horrified.  I asked her to calm down, watch me serve and use the till and asked her to check it at the end of the day.  Later, there were times when I ran the shop alone, both ladies being at lunch. I wonder if the jobs with a significant tip content still exist. I couldn't persuade my daughters to look for such jobs. (David Silverside)


Collier Row: My wife, then Grace Sparks, lived at 14 Hazel Crescent. They moved there from Leytonstone when they were bombed out. I remember Clockhouse Lane for at far end, up near Havering, were a number of week end huts, which during the war were not looked after, so we looked after them- in our own way. Then in 1950, as a student, one of my first post office jobs at Christmas was Clockhouse Lane. During the war, aged 14, I would go to dances at the Ascension Hall. Then on Sunday mornings, football on a field over by the River Rom. Other RLS were Jack Bethal and Ronnie Lanchester. My father maintained that he played for Clapton Orient but we never saw any evidence. (Eddie Pond)


Collier Row: In 1973, celebrating the A-levels finishing and the concomitant feeling of relief that that brought, a select band of us "men" decided to pubcrawl from The Crown up past Roneo Corner to finish up in The Charcoal Burner in Collier Row, via all pubs in Romford, Parkside, Mawney Road, Bell and Gate, etc. A laudable goal, I think you must agree. This when we were young and foolish, of course, and the self-mutilation involved in such a pastime was welcomed with open arms rather than groans of disbelief. So about 8 of us longhairs started out with the necessary two quid in our pocket (or whatever ludicrously small sum could buy a couple of gallons of ale in those days) and convened at The Crown at opening time. 4 hours and much imbibing later, the aforementioned White Hart was in receipt of our hard-earned cash, and we knew we only had one more pub to go until we could all lay in gutters, replete and happy in the thought that for the next 3 months until university beckoned we had no more academic pressures and could purely and simply revel in the pleasures of the flesh and the hop.

Alas, such idyllic musings were to be cast from our minds. The White Hart's resident thuggery element decided that young long-hairs were there to be kicked and punched rather than discuss philosophy with, despite the fact that fully half of our number was West Ham supporters. There followed some practical demonstrations of the advantages of Doc Martens over plimsolls (trainers hadn't been invented) in the sport of person-maiming. So rather than end the night in the final pub with a toast to things to come, we ended round my girlfriend's house in varying states of disarray. My own catalogue was a broken nose, broken wrist, cuts and bruises. And I wasn't the worst off.

So a word of caution to those who wax lyrical regarding Collier Row. Just because we have fond memories of those places we grew up in, not everybody in this world has the same viewpoint regarding common bonds of geographical ancestry. And although such an experience has not diluted my affection for Collier Row, I must confess that it has somewhat tainted my view of some of the residents over the years. I have drunk in some of the roughest places in

Leicester, London, Portsmouth, Leeds, Newcastle, etc. and have never had a similar experience. (In fact I will go down on record as stating that some of my drinks with the Geordies, anti West Ham to a man and fanatical black and white supporters all, have been some of the most amicable meetings I have had - and can they drink? Jeez!! I would also point out that Geordie lasses are the friendliest girls in the universe, and I do NOT say this just because I married one.) Still don't stop me drinking in the Colley Row pub, though. I just think twice before I talk to strangers, is all. But then I suppose they think twice before they reply, so that seems fair to me. (ash howe)


Chris Stratford said: "Having mentioned the start of the 66A route in Clockhouse Lane, this was directly opposite the community centre which was built on the site of a park which, in turn, once housed a tractor.....Or was Collier Row blessed with TWO parks each containing a tractor?"

The park opposite the White hart was always referred to among my friends as simply "The Rec" and I never heard it called any other name; so perhaps the search of collective grey cells for a formal name, is doomed to failure? I recall a tractor in this park with a metal bucket seat with holes in it. Believe it was red with a green sprung support bracket (If too many beers have not fogged the memory).

The later park on Clockhouse Lane was built on a triangular waste lot sometime around 1960? It was initially quite famous as being one of the first "Adventure Playgrounds" in the country and featured on television news programmes (fame at last for Clockhouse Lane). I never used the park as I was into my own "twin peaks" searchings by this time but recall they had much equipment, which from memory included a tractor. (Peter Moulds)


Peter Moulds is right about 'Collier Row Recreation Ground' (that was its name!) and Clockhouse Lane 'Adventure Playground'.  However it's doubtful if much of the equipment the older ones of you might remember, still exists.  The 'Zig-Zags', Roundabouts, Rocking horses, certain types of swings, slides and climbing equipment that I enjoyed so much in Parks of my childhood (especially Jutsums, Central Park Dagenham, Cottons and Raphaels) made way for equipment complying with latest safety standards regulations.  The latest equipment resulting in fewer fractures, crushed fingers, heads and toes and even deaths!  During my last UK job before migrating (1980 -88 as Director of Leisure Services with LB Havering) the programme of play equipment removal and replacement continued.  I'd be surprised if many old tractors are left  (I've many gut-churning 'horror accidents' to children - with subsequent litigation -  I could relate) and the latest world-wide crisis of 'spiralling public liability insurance costs' must be making things worse.  The 'Parkies ' mentioned are now long gone - thanks to 'economic rationalisition' - replaced by 'Mobile Patrols (what a curious expression!  Could a 'Patrol' be static?).  Many park toilets are gone.  We used to climb on the Lawns Park Urinal slab to get to get a drink from the cystern after soccer 'kick-abouts' , but that toilet block was removed by local demand in the 80'safter it became an after hours homosexual haunt and subject to vandalism (the two problems not necessarily related!) Fings ain’t what they used to be! (Terry Hadert)


The "park" opposite the White Hart in Collier Row Village was opened in the early 1950's, 1953 I think.  It was only on the Collier Row side of the River Rom and had a 6ft high metal fence all around the perimeter.   It was built on reclaimed swamp/waste land.   On the Lodge Lane side of the river Rom was farmland. mainly pig farms.

The "park" in Clockhouse Lane, backing onto Riversdale Road/Lynwood Drive, was allotments in the 1940's and most of the 1950's.  There was no fence around them and my father rented one to grow his vegetables.  We kids were sometimes asked to "volunteer" as diggers.  To my knowledge, nothing was ever stolen from the plots and some men used to leave their spades and other tools on site.   In the late 1950's the allotments were closed and the site was fenced and the "adventure playground" was started.  Mainly climbing frames, ropes and old tractors. The resident play group leader was a woman and she, with the help of numerous helpers, built a large shed from scrap timber on the site.     165 buses used to park up opposite the site, whilst the drivers had a tea break in Bonny's corner cafe.

On the adjacent corner by Goodman’s newsagents a street vendor used to sell horsemeat from a converted Luton van, with a window cut in the nearside. I remember that during the late 50's a Collier Row Resident from the Kings Hill area won £25,000 on the football pools and used to drive his shiny new Riley Pathfinder to the shops. (Robert Stevens)