KITCHENER STREET 04/06/2018 My Dad, Ron Jukes, Nine Lives Ron'. I was born on the French National Day, 14 July 1932 at 33 Kitchener Street, Winson Green. If I stepped out into the street I would be a Brummie, but if I went up my garden I would be in the Black Country. So I must be a Black Country Brummie. During my childhood days my mother always insisted I wore a Mac if I was to go down Villa Park. Didn't matter what weather. She never told me why but I soon found out for myself. When the fans didn't want to lose their place by going to the toilet they just did it there and then. That Mac went into the wash more times than anyone can imagine. Mom never said why I had to wear the Mac and I was too embarrassed to tell her that I knew why.
Now I will tell you my destiny and brushes with death! Budbrooke Barracks 1950, the Korean War had just started. I was transferred to the Leicestershire Regiment from the R.A.S.C. I was just about to sew my Leicester flashes onto my uniform when a sergeant called in and said that there had been a mess-up with the draft and called out four names. I was among the four names. I would now be going to Germany with the Sherwood Foresters.
Sennelager, Germany - my first introduction to the throwing of a live hand grenade. I dropped the live hand grenade in the priming bay and the sergeant grabbed hold of the grenade and threw it down. It exploded outside the bunker. My first lucky escape.
On my demob i joined a well-known window cleaning firm. I fell through a roof in Willenhall and landed in the only safe place available, all round was metal cutting machines. Second lucky escape.
Talking to Pat Roach outside his cafe before he became famous, as Pat went into his cafe I carried on to get my football coupon. Tons of steel fell onto the pavement where I had been standing. Third lucky escape.
Worked as a barman at the College Arms. On my night off I used to call in at the 'Tavern in the Town' on my way to Mom's. That particular night I was late and went straight to Mom's in Winson Green not far from where Pat Roach had his scrap yard. We were all playing bingo in the Merry Hill Social Club when Mom's postman came in and told us the 'Tavern in the Town' had been blown up the time I would have been there. Fourth time lucky!
Some years ago I had a rare blood complaint. The doctor in charge said that if I had come 24 hours later I would have been dead. After getting discharged a pathologist called rubbing his hands like a kid with a new toy and told me to get into his car. When we got to Good Hope Hospital he sat me down in the office and told me I was only the second person in the world to have this complaint! Me being hard of hearing I thought he said in the ward! But when I got the document in writing there it was in the world! I have kept the document ever since.
If a cat got nine lives I have still got four left.' Sent to us by Carol Bell nee Jukes firstname.lastname@example.org BELOW 3 photos of Ron Jukes thanks to his daughter Carol
KITCHENER STREET 20/03/2017 The following Post Card was sent to us from a lady who found it in a box of stuff she probably bought at auction 20 years ago. It is quite amusing in a sad way it reads as follows:
DEAR MOTHER I WRITE THESE FEW LINES HOPING YOU ARE ALL? AS IT LEAVES ME AT PRESENT. I THINK YOU MIGHT HAVE SENT ME THE 3/6 IF NOT ANYTHING ELSE. YOU NEEDNT COME AND MEET ME FOR THERE IS NOTHING TO BRING BACK. YOUR LOVING SON GEORGE
KITCHENER STREET 09/03/08
My name is Glenyss Morris nee Morgan I lived in Kitchener Street at 32 with my mother Nellie, and at 38 was my Nan and Grandad Elsie and Percy. I know of the gypsies and lived opposite Charlotte Davies a descendant of the Black Patch Gypsies. The park was occupied by 7 WRAF durring WW2. I also remember a fair in the park in the late forties and recall the Prefabs being built. I played on the site as a girl in the field opposite Anne Road which was made into a large pool for fire fighting durring the war years. After my husband Eddie came out of the Navy we moved into number 5 which backed onto the park, our son Karl attended Merryhill School from its opening. Glenyss Morris nee Morgan email@example.com
As a child in the late sixties and early seventies, my sisters and I practically lived in Black PatchPark, with most of the other children around the area. We lived in Kitchener Street - there used to be Mrs Brindle's newspaper and grocery shop on the corner and a great fish shop on Foundry Road (leading to the Brook). We spent hours at the park - and used to play with the Park Keeper's son and daughter (Anne and Roy - can't remember their surname, but my sister Sue probably could!). It would be a pity to see the Park demolished. It did provide a safe haven to play and some of the outer fields were also very tranquil and peaceful. I wish you luck in your quest to save the Park. Yvonne Kelly Email: firstname.lastname@example.org
KITCHENER STREET 03/08/06
My name is Cynthia Bignell nee Formon, and my mom ran a general store in Kitchener Street from about 1949 to 1971.
Our back garden used to back onto Black patch Park, and myself and two brothers (Donald and Robert) spent many happy hours playing there. If we were lucky, we could climb over our garden fence into the park, saving us the walk round. But not if the park keeper was about, he was one to be feared!!
When I left school I went to work at A.E.Griffiths in Booth Street, and used the park as a short cut to work.
I only heard about your fight to save the park when a friend of our folk club Bryn Phillips sang a song he'd written about the park and gypsies who lived there. I hope you have heard it, if not I can give you Bryns details.
Congratulations on your web site, I found it really interesting it brought back a lot of happy memories, good luck with the campaign,
Cynthia Bignall nee Formon Bobcyn@aol.com
KITCHENER STREET 14/07/05
We, the Jukes family lived for almost 100 years at number 33.Kitchener Street
My Nan, Doris Elizabeth Jukes (nee Allen) lived there with her mother, father and siblings and when she married Charles Laurence Jukes (my Grandad), they remained at No. 33 and had seven children, Laurie, Ron (my Dad), Horace (there is a picture of him on the site in the Boys Brigade), Dorothy, Rita, Jennifer and Patrick. I was born in my nan's front room in 1955, unfortunately for my mother this was during licensing hours and my dad had to be fetched from the Railway Tavern in Wellington Street. I have wonderful childhood memories of Kitchener Street, especially the sweet shop, run by Mrs Forman, with the big fridge full of lovely ice lollies and playing French cricket and hop scotch in the horse-road. I remember Mrs Mee. who would sit out on her step from dawn to dusk watching us children play and the Farrington family Nan's next door neighbours. At Christmas time the Carol singers would knock the door. My Nan would call them inside the house and would not give them anything until they sang a couple of Carols around the piano. Black Patch Park also holds lovely memories for me, playing on the swings and the witches hat. We would climb over Nan's fence at the bottom of the garden and roll down the hill. In winter we would go down on sledges in the snow. My uncle Pat would ask me to go the park with him and his friends to play football. Yes, you guessed it, they only wanted me to play goalie for them, but then we would walk back round to Nan's stopping for a bag of chips from Jackson's chippie in Wellington Street, so I suppose it was worthwhile in the end.
My Nan was an auxiliary nurse during world war II. She told me a story of how the senior doctor asked if there was a married lady available to help attend to a solider who had injuries to his private parts. I dread to think what would have happened to that poor solider if there was not a married lady available!! It was at this time around 1941 - 1942 that my Dad and his brother were playing in Black Patch Park when a fighter plane pilot frantically waved at them, presumably to get out of the way, although my Dad and his brother thought this was a friendly wave and waved back, only to see the pilot crashing into the nearby Averys factory. My dad wonders who this pilot could have been who may have given his life rather than crash into the children in the park. If anyone knows how I could find this information, please let me know. My dad, Ron is in the process of writing his memoirs/book and he has many more tales to tell of life in Kitchener Street and surrounding area, so no doubt I will be sending more stories through, but in the meantime, please put Kitchener Street on the map!
Many thanks and keep up the good work.
Carol Jukes email@example.com
KITCHENER STREET This is a photo of my great uncle Ernie Baker with his wife Jessie baker, and I was wondering does anyone reconise them, they lived in 40 Kitchener Street, this photo was taken in 1958. Kind regards. George Baker firstname.lastname@example.org
Kind regards. george baker email@example.com
KITCHENER STREET I wonder if you would assist me in seeking information from residents that live in our area of Winson Green. I have recently received information regarding my Grandmother that lived in Talbot Street from 1920-1952 having further received proof from the 1901-11 census that they lived at no. 1 Kitchener Street off Perrot Street nr Black Patch Park if anyone recalls the name Ravenall the majority of the families children attend Handsworth New Road School. I knew a great number of names in the area but never heard this name mentioned.
I would appreciate a reply from anyone who knew the RAVENALL family. Colin Mills
During the depression years of the 1920's and 30's I spent my childhood in a small house in Kitchener Street, Winson Green. There were six in our family two sisters, Doris and Olive, one brother Albert and my mother and father. My father's name was Albert Frank Robins and my mother's name Winifred Clarice. My name is John William Robins and I married Dora Amy Pratt who lived in Perrott Street at the same time. We were married at Bishop Latimers Church where I had served in the choir as a boy. My father was totally blind caused by an accident while working in his father's factory. This happened just before my mother and father were married. I have many fond memories of life in and around the Black Patch Park and hope that it can be saved from the developers.