I was fascinated by the photo of the tram turning into All Saints Street from Lodge Road. I lived in All Saints Street from 1945 until 1957-ish. The pub on the corner opposite Scribbans was called the Hydraulic I think. On the corner diagonally opposite to Scibbans Bakery was Collis's Newsagents. A little further round the corner into All Saints Street on the same side as Collis's was a radio repair shop (Lainchbury's) and a bit further up Lodge Road from where the photo was taken was a row of shops. I remember a barbers, Shrimptons the Cobblers and the Chippy which my folks ran for a couple of years.

From birth (1945) until we moved to the chippy I lived in All Saints Street down an entry just a little to the right of the edge of the picture at 1, Back of 8 All Saints Street and on the next corner was a sweet shop run by an old lady whose name I forget.  My dad's family lived at the bottom of Goode Street.

1/8 All Saints Street was down an entry which led to a large square. When I lived there, it was roughly grassed over and there was a fair bit of brick rubble as if there had been a building there once. There was a derelict factory building on one side of the square, between us and the entry. We were in the bottom right corner. There were houses all around the square except for the bottom wall. In a wooden workshop accessible up some steps and running along the wall was a polishers shop. The bottom left hand corner led to a large double gateway with a wicket gate set in which opened onto Lodge Road. It's just visible a bit further down from the Hydraulic and was the way we used to go down to the Flat.

Dad used to work at Chancellors Garage, a bit up and round the corner from where the photo was taken and my mom worked as a wages clerk at Scribbans. I went to Camden County Primary School.

One of the shops I remember on the Flat was Woolies where I bought the first Airfix kits. 

I remember watching them pulling up the tramlines with my mom. 

Well, I seem to have written an essay, but your picture brought back so many memories.........!

If you have any information regarding the derelict workshop, I'd love to know. I've always thought it was a small foundry, maybe for brass castings hence the polishing shop which may have survived, but they may of course be entirely unconnected.Thanks for any information.

Very best regards    DAVID ALLISON

PART TWO 17/01/09 Have to say a big thank-you for the photos Ted. The second picture is absolutely brilliant and one I have never seen before. 

The corner shop is Matty's. My dad used to send me there to buy his cigarettes when I was little. Completely illegal of course, but the old lady who kept the shop knew my parents and me and my younger brother Pete and we were trusted to do this errand. Dad usually had five Woodbines or occasionally Players.

The street running down to the right is All Saints Road. There were houses all the way down on Matty's side of the road and a tall wall bordering the railway yard on the other side with a big gateway part of the way down the hill where you could watch the engines shunting wagons down the sidings.

The double windows at the far end of the picture are the side windows of the "Hydraulic" pub. These are visible in the photo with the tram. Lodge Road crosses from left to right of the Hydraulic and if you walked into the picture and crossed Lodge Road, you would enter Goode Street.

The tall building in the background and on the opposite corner to the Hydraulic is Scribbans Bakery. You can just see it above the roofs. The offices were on a high floor running down Lodge Road and the loading bays were down Goode Street. I think the lower floor was the production area with the dough machines, provers and ovens.

Just between the two arched doorways you can just see a narrow entry. Our house was down there. I think the house with the light coloured door was No.8, hence we were 1, back of 8. I think the lady who lived in 8 was named Mary. She was Irish and a good friend to my mom. Can't remember her surname. Don't know the number of the house to the left of the entry with the darker door, or the names of the people who lived there, but do remember that they invited all the kids in the square to a film show one Christmas. The son of the folks who lived there had a movie projector and in some sort of outbuilding, treated us to a cartoon show. It was a really nice thing to do and although I was only around 7 or 8 at the time and a bit shy, we had a good time.

I'll have a dig through my mom and dad's old photos and forward some scans if I may.

My dad was Joe Allison and my mom was Doris Allison. Dad died 10 years ago and mom16 years back. 1/8 was originally the home of Alfred and Rose Parsons, my mom's parents.

Thanks for a brilliant site. Best regards. Dave. 









On the same site as the school, was All Saints Church. Two of my three sisters were married here. Audrey (Whitworth) was married in 1955, followed in 1961 by Pauline (Baynes) .Details of the church are listed elsewhere on this website, but I do recall that on special occasions, the church was used by the school for services. In fact I was roped in as a choirboy during my time at the school. The vicar was a Mr Johnson. The pay was pretty good as I recall, but the solo voice and of course the money that went with it, were the preserve of the senior boys. Mr Woods was the choirmaster. He was a very dedicated man to his music, and as is so often the case, completely unsuited to teaching. The older boys walked all over him. Letting off bangers in the vestry, bullying we younger kids – Oh Happy Day! I will never forget my mother’s face when I arrived home with news that I was in the choir. Her joy soon turned to dismay however, when I bought the surplice home for her to repair. Mr Johnson says it needs a bit of stitching I nonchalantly informed her. She took it out of the bag and replied, A bit of stitching, It needs throwing out, that’s what it needs – it was threadbare! Nonetheless she set to, and on the Sunday following, there I was proudly wearing it, and singing my heart out! Fred, the senior choirboy, gave me a hefty dig in the ribs, as I went at it with gusto. What he knew, and I didn’t, was that a prospective wedding couple were in the congregation, and were going to choose the soloist for their wedding. Fred was determined that no one, but he would be that soloist. Any opposition to this notion was dealt with by swift and vicious retribution. Of course, had I have known then what I know now, I would have just waited for his voice to break! And they talk about angelic choirboys! Another boy in the choir at the same time as me was, Louis Jinks. He had a twin sister, and they lived in Hingestion Street. In about 1958, the front area of the church was declared out of bounds to we pupils, as two of the church steeples were in a dangerous state. They were eventually partly demolished and capped. This was some years before the final demise of All Saints. I recall that even in those days, the congregation was pathetically small. Clearly, even as far back as the late ‘50’s the writing was on the wall for All Saints Church.

For my fifth birthday, I was given a MOBO trike. Tommy Morris, who lived on the opposite side to us at Highfield Terrace Brookfield Road, was about three years older than me. We would go off on a Saturday afternoon, unbeknown to his mother or mine, and would pedal down Crabtree Road, along All Saints Street, left into Lodge Road, all the way along Lodge Road, along Winson Green Road – does anyone remember the name of the bike shop in Winson Green Road – Dikes? Turning left into Peel Street then Aberdeen Street, we would come out on Dudley Road near St Patrick’s Church and Dudley Road Hospital. Turning left into Western Road, would bring us back where we started. I have no idea how long it took to make this journey on a kids trike, but I do remember that it was a regular feature of Saturday afternoon’s for Tommy and me. We thought of it as an adventure.

As we got a little older, we discovered the delights and freedoms of the 96 bus service, and realized you could get on the bus without an adult. We would go ‘up town’ visiting the Science Museum or Art Gallery. I recall being impressed by the size and architecture of the buildings, as much as the exhibits. I would have been 5 or 6 years old at the time, and for those of you who wonder how I was allowed to make these trips without Mom or Dad’s permission, the answer is simple, I didn’t tell them! Tommy and I worked out a ruse where he would tell his Mom he was coming to play at my house, and I would do the same, substituting his house for mine! It also has to be said that whether or not the risk was real, the perception of the risk of being abducted was less then than it is now. Certainly that is my perception. It is a shame that kids seem to have far less freedom than I remember having. By Ken Aston