A unique record of life in
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The photos above: The one on the left is my entry photo into Dr. Barnardo's in 1958/9. The one on the right was also taken at Dr. Barnardo's in 1963 aged 13 years old. The photo directly above was taken in 2003 when went on the committee for the National Council of Barnardo Old boys & Girls. The haircuts in top photos were the Arthur 'Rusty' Runcie look. Arthur gave all the boys their distinctive haircut. A normal Sunday AT Barkingside: A normal Sunday for me aged 12 would be awoken at 06:00Hrs, light the fire in the boiler room, this would supply the hot water for the cottage, meaning I would have to wash in cold water. Then it was then off to church for Holy Communion, return for breakfast which would be egg and Bacon, bread and butter and marmalade washed down with a cup of tea. Then the washing-up which would give you enough just enough time to get back to the church for the morning service. This was the whole village, the church was packed and most times you had to fight to stay awake as the sermon bore no bearing on young children. Then we would all walk back in our Sunday best. Dinner would then be served in the dinning room which would consist of a roast joint, roast potato's, roast parsnips and a boiled vegetable, covered in a nice thick gravy. The pudding would normally be a pie and custard. (we had it really hard in our day) Then it was time for the washing-up again. Now a real treat we had to read the Bible till it was time for Sunday School which was held at the Methodist Church in Ilford. Then it was the afternoon walk back to Barkingside where it would be just in time to get ready for tea, which consisted of a Birds eye reject fish cake or fish finger (well that what we used to call them) then we had bread and butter cut corner to corner filling a dinner plate. The conserve was a choice of jam or Lemmon curd, then a piece of cake which was washed down with a cup of tea. The tea was made in one big pot with milk and sugar. Then the older boys of which I was one had another real treat in store a little later on, Evening Song so it was back to the Children's church for some rip roaring hymn singing, that today would not be totally PC. On the way back we normally nipped into the orchard for some wind falls. We had to work really hard shaking those trees. Now if all had gone well and we had not been caught scrumping and we had not been cheeky to our Matron or not got into any fights with the other boys in the cottage during the day, we had one real treat in store, we were allowed to watch Songs of Praise in Matrons private sitting room, which I had made sure I had done something wrong which would exclude me from being allowed to watch what I felt was and still is a false programme. Matron never did twig why I played up after Sunday tea time. I never did have any good childhood days that I can look back on as most children can. That being said the only thing we were short of in Henry Mountain Cottage was love and a few cuddles, which I understand was frowned on from above at HQ. Personally I think the people who looked after us were being controlled by people who had totally lost the plot with rules that the Doctor would never have allowed in his day. I was reading an article by Irene E. Sexton (nee Thompson) which proved to me they had definitely lost it. In my day Laughing in the church was not done, quite a lot of things were not done in the House of God, but in the Doctors days it was a different matter Irene wrote: In silence I stood before the large monument, beneath which lies the man who made this place possible. It was his wish to be buried here among his children, and the seat which is part of the monument was always occupied by laughing, happy children. His real monument! I looked at the kindly face of the little Doctor whose likeness is carved here and remembered; so much. Dr. Barnardo was only a. small man at 5ft 3inch, but there was nothing small about his ideas, nothing little about his humanity. In one of the old cottages I spoke with Emily Runcie, she who was Emily Pearson, the same girl whose likeness is carved with that of Dr. Barnardo. Emily remembered the good doctor well; now 78, she told me in her own bright manner how one bright Sunday morning Dr. Barnardo was giving a sermon, his subject: Back-sliding. He put his leg over the pulpit rail to demonstrate his theme, slipped and fell. The children, highly delighted, laughed uproariously. Dr. Barnardo looked stern: "Children", said he, "Don't laugh, this is merely an illustration." Continue the story Some of my pet hates: Through my time at Barkingside there were a few things I didn't like, in fact I would say I hated some things like Marmite and Yogurt which Matron Goffin would make sure I had my fair share, I would have gladly allowed my share to be divided out, but matron knew best even though Marmite made me feel sick and a few time I was. Then we had the soured milk, now this really made me sick just like Yogurt. Then we had the tea ready made with Sugar, I have never taken sugar in tea or coffee or extra salt on my food. So when I went to Goldings where we were not forced to eat anything life was great. But the truth is we were looked after, kept dry and warm, well fed and clothed along with being overfed with religion and Marmite. Each meal would start with grace "For what we are about to receive, what the pigs have refused make us truly thankful" NB Sundays for me under the age 13: remove Holy Communion and lighting fires. That was Sunday for all the children of Barkingside. A story to come: When I get a moment I must
tell of my time at the Barkingside Library conformation classes of 1963
where I was asked to leave because the then Vicar who was taking the class
could not get his head around the fact that Jesus was Jewish along with
Joseph and Mary. He must have know this as fact, but he didn't want this
brought up at his confirmation class. How I became one of Dr Barnardo's children. Barkingside The Village HomeMy half sister and I lived at home with our mother and my father in Kilburn My family life was like most young boys in the post war years, but I was one of the lucky ones, I still had a mother and father, we lived in Kilburn NW6 in a rented GLC newly built top floor flat that had a view of London, we could see the dome of St Pauls from the kitchen window. My father was an engineer working for a company in Paddington making metal windows for the housing boom, my mother was just a normal housewife who looked after my sister and myself. Life then changed one morning on the 4th May 1958 my father died quite suddenly aged 35 years old. From that day on life was a little stormy I was aged 7 my sister was then 12. Money had been tight when my father was alive but now according to my records we were living on £3. 1s 2d per week this was after the rent of £2 15s 10d had been paid. This included all pensions. My mother tried working as a waitress, in those days you were paid a really low wage but you could make up you money with tips if you could keep your customers happy with good service. But then my mother got into trouble for not being home when we returned from school, we had become latch street kids. Life was not working out. In the next few months I remember being moved from pillar to post. I remember going to a family who had fostered both Diana and myself, they lived in one of the many new towns that were springing up at that time. It was not long before we were both back in London staying with our Grandmother in Stoke Newington, my fathers mother had refused to help in any way, she blamed my mother for her son's death. They say when one door closes another one opens, in truth I think we had only closed doors. We stayed with our Grandmother for some time as I remember going to school just down the road from flats where we were living which was a one bed roomed flat in Coronation Avenue. Life became normal again but this could not last as Nan Allen was then 68 years old and the flat was not big enough for two children and one adult. My records show that my Grandmother had to lie and say my sister was staying with one of her friends in the next block, well that's what it say's in my records but the truth was we all lived with our mothers mother. Our mother had been prescribed dexamphetamine that had the trade name of 'Dexedrine' to get her life back together, this was a quick fix that became a smoking gun for my mother, her life would never be the same again. Doing a quick search via the internet on Dexedrine it came back with "the indiscriminate prescribing of powerful stimulants is a long term "smoking gun" that will come back to haunt a community, not to mention the potential liability to the prescribing doctor" My mother stayed on Dexedrine till 1966. Looking back my mother also suffered with Bulimia Nervosa that I believe was brought on by the Dexedrine. While the drugs made our mother a little more quieter, she could not cope with my sister and me, this was made worse as I did not attend school due to the nuns who ran the school which was a church of England School. These very Christian nuns had a notion that if they hit me often in front of the class this would make me learn, and I would be able to read and do mental arithmetic. This may of worked on a lazy child, but I suffered badly with dyslexia, this was not really known about in the early 50s so the nuns just kept on hitting and the only thing I learnt was it hurts when you get smacked. Now would you like to go to school? One other major point I could not see due to needing glasses. My sister Diana needed a school uniform, but with the money coming into our house there was never enough for school uniforms so she didn't like going to school. My records show it was recommended by the Head teacher of St Augustine’s I would fair better away from my mother. In her opinion my mother had been too indulgent with me and that I had taken advantage of this plus it would seem I was very backward for my age furthermore she did not have a very good opinion of my mother. My mother and I both ended up on an empty silver train on the central line. opposite us were adverts for a new start in the country. (Move from overcrowded London to open fields of the country.) It showed a family, Husband and wife with two children running hand in hand through a five bar gate into an open field with the smog of London behind them. My open fields turned out to be a place called The Village Home Barkingside, a near self contained Village with its main food store just opposite the main gate, with a high shiplap timber fence round the main green, it was said to keep people out and not the children in, the main front gate, which I had entered was always open. It did seem to me, open fields compared to Kilburn, which still had buildings that had been damaged in the war and had been boarded up, which we used as a playground. The village had a lot of neat little cottages all round three greens. I was placed on the reception green, which had some double cottages, to the left-hand side of the green running parallel to Horn Road. The cottage had view of a water tower which had Dr Barnardo’s Homes in large white letters. The cottage held about twenty boys and four staff of which I had just joined. Some of the boys had been in Dr Barnardo’s months, some just weeks I made friends with a boy straight away his name was Barry Foot he had made up a cart out of the bottom of a pram it was great fun until I noticed my mother walking away with Barry’s uncle she turned and waved. I did not see her for some weeks. I later found this was the instructions Barnardo's had given my mother. My mother had signed me over to Dr. Barnardo's on the 21st December 1958 and according to the records I entered The Village Home Barkingside on the 4th February 1959 and was admitted to Henry Mountain Cottage. The fact is I don't remember it happening this way. I remember being placed in a reception cottage for at least two months. This part of my life Barnardo's can find no trace. I would love to know the name of the cottage, as this is where I found life to be very nice and homely. I expected this was how life in DR. Barnardo's Homes would be like, kind people who were there to help like the married couple that ran the cottage with two other younger assistants. I would love to know their names but alas it is not recorded. Now if I had stayed at this cottage or a similar cottage with caring people, life for me would have been as our founder Dr Barnardo had intended for all his children. I remember one event that happened on the reception green cottage. I had been sent out to clean my shoes under the watchful eyes of an older boy, but he wanted to play a trick on me. I had to undo the sandal that was held by a single strap and kick a football at the fence, this he said would be impossible to kick over the fence. I stood back and with one mighty kick the ball and my sandal went flying over the fence, just as a big red Double - Decker bus was going along Horns Road heading for the next stop at Tanners Lane with my sandal on the roof. The name of the person was one of the Boot brothers by the name of John who also had recently been placed in the care of Dr Barnardo's along with his brothers. I was called to see Col. Booth Tucker, 2nd March 1959 according to my records, but again I distinctly remember the other boys of the cottage winding me up, saying I would be for it now, trousers down and six of the best with a big stick, so I’m on my way the long way round, past the memorial of Dr. Barnardo thinking what have I done loosing my sandal. Below is the version of events but it could be that both Col Booth Tucker and Col Atkins spoke about the same thing at different times. The person in charge of the village was Col S. Atkins and I distinctly remember meeting Col Atkins dog at the front of his house? and Mrs Atkins making me a cup of tea. Please note it is the shorthand version as typed into my record card. Below is the recorded version in my records: 2.3.59 But my version of events took place with Col Atkins and went something like this and I remember it taking place about October just before my eighth birthday: I am invited into his house and into his day room study, he had my file with him, and I am offered a place to sit and offered some village lemonade, which is made from powder and very sweet, I declined, Col Tucker asked if I would like any thing else, my reply 'a cup of tea with no sugar please sir'. We talked of my brother David and sister Diane, he asked me if I would like to go to Australia like my brother, which I said 'as long as my sister comes too' Diane was living with our Grandmother at home at this time. We then disused my reading and he made some notes, that I may need glasses, as I could not see the print without squinting, I could just about read, but very poorly. Then we got to the bed-wetting, 'we are understanding these sorts of things more and more', he said 'but I should try harder to get to the toilet, we will put that down', Yes sir I heard myself saying, when I wanted to say that I only realised when I awoke in the morning that I had wet the bed so I had no chance to try to get to the toilet even if I wanted to. I would fall asleep and in the morning I would wake-up with wet sheets. From this time I remember I started to wet the bed more and more. He then went on about my Mother, good things and her having a hard time at the moment and that she had been to see him that day and that she was an extraordinary (bizarre I think he meant) woman mostly positive stuff that I did not think she deserved, I told him about the drugs prescribed to her by our family doctor, which he took some notes. He then asked me about my father, about me being at his side when he died and had this upset me, I can't remember my exact reply, but it was something like. "He’s happy in heaven and glad to be away from my mum which got a smile. We had a little chat about the village home and was I happy. I was more than happy I told him and I had no problem being away from my mother. This was truthful as I thought I was coming to see him for the cane, but then it was time to say good-bye with the last mouthful of tea. Then I’m off as I thank them for the tea and feeling rather happy with life, if this was the start let me have more, life is going to be good. We had three meals a day, fresh clothes and looked after, plus we had our own television and if that was not enough we were given pocket money each Saturday. Back at the cottage, the boys would not have believed me that we had, had a chat and a cup of tea, so not wanting to disagree I told them I had had six of the best, for loosing my sandal, this seemed to give me more acceptance amongst the other boys in the cottage. Anyway they all had heard that the Colonel was a very nasty wicked man, which was put about by some of the older boy in the cottages. One other event I remember we were all dressed in our Sunday best that I did not have and had to borrow a jacket and short trouser suit and a tie. We were then transported to The London Palladium by private coach to watch a Panto and even though it was not Christmas we were allowed to open the present that were given to us. In Henry Mountain we were never allowed to keep the presents given as the Matron Miss Goffin told us there were children that had even less than us! I think they were sent to the Baptist Church in Lowestoft as the minister used to thank us each year for the toys we had donated. In my mind I was then moved to Henry Mountain about the 1st of November. I distinctly remember while I was on the reception green helping the gardeners with other boys from our cottage to build the village bonfire which must have been in 1958 as 1959 is taken care of with me being in the village hospital in the November of 1959 and also returning in December and spending one of the best ever Christmas of 1959 as a child. I stayed in hospital till after the new year. So while my records say one thing I am certain I was in The Village Home of the November of 1958. About this time I also remember going to visit Henry Mountain Cottage for tea and I had to have a bath and a change of cloths. One of the young cottage helpers walked with me to the other green where cricket matches were played and the sports day were held. We knocked on the front door of Henry Mountain cottage, a friendly Miss Goffin answered the door and we were shown to the playroom. The room was filled with quite children all playing nicely, now this should have rung some alarm bells. The Matron and the Auntie were sitting either side of a coal fire. They set quite a nice homely atmosphere, in truth Henry Mountain was never that apart from this one night. I found the matron much stricter than the house parents I had left. The Matron had one assistant who also lived-in, Miss Jean Kightley, who, when left in charge, was a much nicer person and the cottage ran much smoother. I think the honeymoon ended after a month and I did everything I could think of to be moved from this cottage but nothing worked I was stuck with Matron who did not like my mother one bit as she was always trying to get information on what my mother did when I stayed with her over a weekend, what men friends called round etc. Barnardo's even asked if my mother would not take me home so often as it was having a detrimental affect on the other boys in the cottage. Somehow my mother never signed me 100% over to Barnardo's she still had right of access and could remove me at any time and she used this to good effect, much to the determent of my schooling . How do I know this? Its in my records that I obtained in 2001. One part from my records really says it all about me wanting to move and how unhappy I am. Now if it was true about Barnardo's not giving us all the records they hold, don't you think they may have just kept this one back? please remember these reports, we were never meant to see. This report is from 1962 it starts: "On Monday 29th October Mrs. Cooke came to see me, she is a strange looking person with a big Jewish nose" for an exact copy to read Click here >>>> Please note the above story is from my memory as I remember my time in Dr Barnardo's care. I would not like you to think for one moment this story is full of hate for any member of staff or Barnardo's care system. Its just my memory of being in care, yes there were times when I hated the place. I did make contact with my old Matron in 1987 and stayed in contact until her death in 1995. As it turned out the girl I married, a second cousin to another Matron of Barkingside who knew Joyce Goffin very well. Both Joyce and Jean Kightley came to our house in Letchworth a few times and I visited them both, Jean in Barking and Joyce in her granny flat at Hainault. We did chat about the old days and Joyce got on very well with my wife Maggie and was totally amazed I was married to a girl related to her friend Jenny Cannon the Matron of Angus cottage. Well Frank she said it's a very small world. One point I would like to make is, Our records that recorded our life in Dr Barnardo's were never meant to see the light of day and on some of my papers it is written across the top: This document is strictly confidential and must be kept under lock and key. Its contents must not be shown nor divulged by the Superintendent to any other member of the Staff, nor to any member of the public. Did you know the matrons or cottage parents that looked after you did not see your records allegedly, they only added to them believing that they would never be seen by you. Barnardo's have always been at the front of change and allowed their records to be opened before it was your right to request them. One other point in my mind the Barnardo welfare workers of yesterday had to write a report that would go before a committee that would have to show you were in moral danger or destitute, this was the qualification you needed to be accepted into Dr Barnardo's. So read between the lines and don't take things to heart. because these good people would exaggerate the truth or as it was known as gilding the lily to make sure you were accepted. Frank
Cooke
The Village Home 1958 to 1964 For some of my memories of the Matron of Henry Mountain Cottage along with other members of staff click here to view All information and photographs held within this web site are © copyright and should not be copied or shared without express permission. Please note this web site does not in any way speak for Barnardo's. Its purpose is purely for research and historical interest.
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| Home Page | Sid Bracken | Marjorie Stokes | Mark Gill | Frank Cooke | a | ||
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| Memories | Florence Stevens | Inge Ball | Selma Barnett | Irene Sexton | Eric Leonard | Mary Godfrey | Viv Sadler |
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Last updated 16/11/08 19:36 Copyright © 2001 / 2008 Goldonian Web all rights reserved - email: Webmaster Website by Frank Cooke |