When I was around twelve or thirteen years of age the roof of Crooke Hall Cottages was re-slated. The old, very thick slabs were stacked up outside the back kitchen window. Mother had the idea of making a crazy pavement down the garden path, so I used to break up the slabs. Being a bit over-enthusiastic one day I lifted the axe a bit too high and caught the corner of the axe in my head. Blood came down profusely but I was more frightened than hurt as there was no one at home. So, I went across to one of my neighbours, who lived in one of the three houses across the road (now demolished and made into the car park for Woodfit). Mrs. Peel was her name, the mother of one of my playmates and wife of the weaving manager at Kem Mill, so she patched me up. I suppose it was fortunate it was not much worse.
One of my male friends was a boy named Jack Hesketh – one who had lost his mother at an early age and his father married again. (Poor Jack and his sister had a very bad time with their step-mother.) Jack and I were always close. He had been christened on the same day as I had, we were confirmed at the same time and he was called up on the same day. After that we lost contact a little, although I was responsible for him being employed by Leyland Motors, enabling him to leave the mill. I attended his marriage, which was a disaster, although he stuck it out. He had one son but his wife’s family made it very difficult for him and he suffered badly with acne. He passed away a few years ago, as most of my classmates have.
Continue to 10. Transition into Work