Kaga Simpson - his life and memories

We had gas for everything, cooking, lighting, and collected coke for heating, so depended on the gas works completely, so I shouldn't really complain about the gas works. I imagine you would have had electric in your day. Once a month in the summer I would ride my bike to the bone mill and collect bonemeal for a neighbour who gave me a few sweets, but better still he gave me tuition in greenhouse plants that still stands good today. Can't remember if I went through Longford in those days to the mill, but my it did 'pong'. Way back around 1940 time every Thursday morning we had to go across the park from Foxford to Windmill Road School for woodwork. Sometimes the fields were flooded, like the slough it had a little white rickety wooden bridge where I liked to stop and let my thoughts run free.

Hi Kaga Simpson. No we did not all have electricity in our homes. We only ever had gas for cooking and lighting, and any room without a gas supply we used candles. I do remember coming home to a dark house and having to light the mantle. Not the good old days! For you to get to the bone mill from Windmill Road on your bike you could have gone at least one of three ways. From Longford go up to the end of Lady Lane, follow footpath past the tip, over the canal on pedestrian bridge, over the railway bridge and into Judds Lane. Or up Arbury Avenue, turn right at Elmsdale Avenue, then right down Bedlam Lane to bone mill. Or instead of going up Arbury Avenue, go up the Black Pad behind the avenue and next to gas works to Peggy's Park, through the park to the bottom at Bedlam Lane and the level crossing then carry on to the bone mill The "rickety" bridge you speak of must have been replaced by a sturdier one at sometime for when I knew it, it crossed the river Sowe in Longford Park. It is interesting to hear that you had to go to Windmill Road School for woodworking lessons. When I was in the seniors at Windmill Road, later to become Longford Park Secondary Modern, we had to go to Ford Street School near Pool Meadow. I remember our woodwork teacher, a Mr Pettifer.

Hi all. When I was a lad growing up in the thirties, I lived next door to my grandparents, so my uncles, aunts and cousins visited often. They would drift in to our house, mother would play the piano, and we would all sing, South of the border, Isle of Capri, Donkey serenade and Red sails in the sunset. But granny next door had a pantry stocked full of home made wine, plum, damson, elderberry, dandelion and burdock, apple, and much more so we had plenty of drink. Home made jam tarts, Golden Syrup cakes. I also had a very young aunt, that had short dark hair in the twenties style, flowered dresses and strings of beads, cigarette in a very long holder. Sometimes when she visited, we moved the furniture, rolled back the carpet, so she could dance. We had a 'His Masters Voice' record player that stood on a four foot cabinet that you had to wind up all the time, always finished up with the Laughing Policeman, laughing, clapping and tears streaming down my face. Best years of my life.

I drove a pony and trap on a milk round in 1941-3, Foleshill, Old Church Rd - Aldermans Green Rd, air raid or no air-raid, debris as well. For a short time, then the government condensed the streets we could use so customers had to have the allotted milkman they were given. Now Paul-guy can tell you of the steep slope up and onto the road I had to contend with 4/5 large churns of milk, and a pony that was slithering and sliding in the icy winter. I washed the bottles, churns, etc, carried cartons of Carnation milk etc and somewhere on this forum I told our weights and measures man I used to hate his predecessor, for if you had a Co-op bottle or any other firm's bottle you were fined and severely cautioned, and could lose your job. I fed and groomed the pony. That was part of my job from 14

Like to add a little more to the above story. This little mare shared a field with two shire horses, and in 39 the Army stuck a pom-pom gun in the next field, can you imagine the horror for them, when that started to rat-a-tat at night, obviously we quickly moved them to a field as far away as we could, but there was no way you could explain a war to an animal, and I had a lot of trouble with her the few times the sirens sounded in the day, but gradually she began to like me whispering in her ear (or I thought so) until the noise stopped. When I left to join the forces, my boss kindly retired her. A very brave animal that got mixed up in man's folly.

Janet and me in the lucky Three Horseshoes, Foleshill Road

In 1945 it was said that it cost the Government over a £1000 to train an airborne soldier, so the army made you love guns. I came home on my last leave and took my father's gun along the canal banks to shoot a rabbit, heard a noise behind me on the opposite side of the canal, I turned and fired, something fell, I crossed the bridge and went to see what I had hit. It was a beautiful kingfisher in all its glory and I had killed it. I threw the gun on the floor and kicked it, swore I would never fire a gun ever again and I kept my promise to myself, have never picked up a gun again even at fun-fairs with my boys, and never will. A lesson learnt the hard way.

On another thread, our good friend Kaga has posted: I'm sure all members will want to wish you all the best for a full and speedy recovery

So I'm sitting here my walking stick between my knees and looking in the full length mirror and see the spitting image of my granddad. Granddad was selling tickets for fishing when I arrived with his dinner, a big basin of hot stew, so he gave me a penny like he often did. I raced home to the 'bridge', went to Mother Polly's and bought a large toffee apple. After two bites the toffee cracked and broke, so I'm eating with my right hand and had a fistful of toffee in my left, and the stick broke, the apple I caught in the crook of my elbow and front of my shirt, so I sat on the bridge steps to eat the remainder, but I dropped it a couple of times and it rolled in my lap. So my hands are all toffee, so is my face, sleeve and shirt, and some on my pants, I'm one sticky little boy. I ran home. Mother took one look, "right, off with everything, it can all go in the wash". I stripped, climbed on the chair, sat on the draining board with my feet in the large sink. We only had a cold tap so mum brought in the huge kettle of boiling water, tipped it in the sink, refilled the kettle and put it back on the front hob. Toffee was in my hair so she washed my hair, when the kettle got hot again she filled a large bowl of water to swill away the soap and put it on the opposite draining board. Then she went upstairs to get me fresh clothes. The back door opened and in walked my sister with her girlfriend, and they both started giggling, I grabbed for the towel and knocked the bowl of water off the draining board, it drowned Scamp, our pet dog, he shook himself vigorously, wetting the two girls, they scrambled back out the door. My brother had come in with them, saw his chance, picked up the bowl half-filled it with cold water and dumped it over my head. I yelled, picked up the large square of soap and threw it as hard as I could at his head, he ducked and two jars of jam fell to the floor from the shelf. Mother came in, furious at all of us, handed me a bath towel, told my brother to fetch the hand shovel, clean up the glass and jam in to an old biscuit tin, mop up the water and take the clothes to the washroom. We never had pop (lemonade) for two weeks as a punishment.

The middle of 1949 I was working as a fireman at what had been Ansty Aerodrome, a three man 24 hour shift, they were testing rocket propulsion and the Sapphire engine. There was an enormous explosion and fire, we were there inside a minute, but one of the top 'bods' ordered us not to do anything, this developed into a 'slanging match' between our leading man and the 'bod', we were ordered to get in touch with our chief, which we did. "Hold everything, I'm on my way". When he arrived, "You do as they say". "Then what the hell are we here for" asked our leader. "Insurance" replied the chief, "Keeps the firm's premiums down." "Well I wish you had told us sooner". I was living with my married sister at the time in Bedworth, but about 2 weeks before the unveiling of Lady Godiva, I found a nice little flat in Barras Lane. So, the centre of the city a few minutes away, I also found I could make gambling pay. I gave up the fireman 'lark.'

Hi Kaga. I sent you a message in early August and was wondering if you had forgotten about it. Here it is again. Noticed in an early post that you said that some of your relatives were Lesters. I know it was a common name around Bell Green, Courthouse Green & Aldermans Green and I don't know of any of my relatives with a woodyard at Potters Green but my mother was a Lester. Her father was George Lester who lived at 222 Bell Green Road. His parents were Henry Lester (1860-1934) and Caroline Bird (1862-1943). Henry was from a large family because his father Thomas Lester (1811-1899) married twice, firstly to Sarah Duckham & then to Sarah Wilcox. James's children with the first Sarah were James, Elizabeth, George, Joseph, Matthew, Hannah, George, Mary Ann Sabell, Thomas (died young), and with the second, Sarah Wilcox, William, Eliza, Thomas (another), Henry (my great grandfather) & Charles. The 1841 census shows Thomas living at Tachford. Not sure where this is but maybe somewhere around the bridge over the river Sowe near Henley College. The second Sarah died in Foleshill Workhouse in 1889. Is there any chance we are related?

Derrickarthur. Sorry, I did apologize to people that sent messages, as I have little knowledge of this computer, only when my son visits do pictures etc get put on. I think everyone in Foleshill are linked somehow, when you start looking at family trees, name after name crops up, Oldhams, Sephtons, Simpsons, etc., most from the boats. Lester from Woodway Lane I think may have been my dad's cousin, can't be sure. Two doors from him was a Liggins family, they came in on my mother's side. It is beyond me and too far away for me to search records, as much as I would like, but I wish you luck if you do try. Regards, Kaga.

Hi Kaga. I assume that your surname is Simpson? If not please ignore the following ramblings. My grandfather was George Lester (222 Bell Green Road) born 1882. He married twice, firstly in 1904 to Sarah Jane Fairbrother with whom he had two daughters Eliza (Lizzie) born 1904 and Matilda Louisa (Tilly) born 1906 Sarah Jane died in 1906 (presumably during childbirth of Tilly) He re-married in 1911 to Harriet Ferneyhough and had 5 more children including my mum Irene May Lester in 1913. She was 2nd eldest after William Henry (Bill) and before Evelyn, Hilda & George. Back to the main plot. My Aunt Matilda (Tilly) married Alfred Harold Simpson in 1932. Alfred was also born in 1906 and Alfred & Tilly both died in 1984. They had a son Harold born 1935 who died in 2004. Alfred Simpson's parents were Harold & Caroline Simpson. Does this ring any bells with you??

Hi Kaga. Interesting to read that you worked at Ansty Aerodrome. My father-in-law was a navigator on Stirling bombers during the war, he told me that he went to RAF Ansty for pilot training (didn't make pilot). My wife (his daughter) came from Barnes. When we go to Coventry she always insists that we visit Coombe Abbey, she has loved the place since I first took her there years ago. We only recently found out that the place that her father learned to fly during the war was just a few fields away from her favourite place in Coventry.

Derekarthur, you have just knocked the wind out of my sails. She was my Aunt Tilly too, but we have a problem. Alfred, my Uncle Alf, was my dad's brother, both sons of Arthur Simpson, Aldermans Green. So, yes we are related, and that ties up with the Lesters. Tilly had problems with her legs, both very heavily bandaged, Uncle Alf was regularly in our house, often took me to see the 'old five'. They lived about fifty yards from the entrance to the Slough, the row stood end on to the the road. Were you aware of the son's problems? Await further comment. Kaga.