An exile remembers: Part 2 – the old walk

Heaton History Group is often contacted by people who used to live in the neighbourhood and have vivid and usually fond recollections. We love to hear their memories.  ‘RS’  still returns to Heaton from time to time. Here is the second instalment of his thoughts, which will be serialised over the next few months.

So here I go, from the old house to Armstrong and Heaton parks, retracing the walk – and back again – that I made so many times in the ’60s, and an equivalent walk that many of you may have made yourselves, from the Heaton homes of your own childhoods.

Crossing Simonside Terrace diagonally, from the north side to the south, I soon reach the back lane cut-through which connects it with Rothbury Terrace.

(You know the one – straight across from the end of Coquet Terrace.) In fact, as I quickly recall, this particular journey was made on numerous occasions, independently of any visits to the parks, as just along here was the local corner shop, where much of my mid-’60s, one shilling a week pocket money had a tendency to end up, and where my father frequently sent me to buy his packs of (ten) Gold Leaf cigarettes.

(Note: for the benefit of younger readers, one shilling is the modern equivalent of five pence of that new money which was forced upon us 1971, but which nevertheless now seems to have caught on quite well.)

 The name of the corner shop was ‘Tulip’s’, as I hope a few others of you may also remember. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t exactly a ‘corner’ shop, not being positioned on a street corner, but let’s not quibb … oh, it’s gone! Standing directly outside where it once was, I am faced with only the ghostly brick-based outline of its former existence; a seemingly Turin Shroud-like impression of small-scale retailing has been indelibly stamped into the wall, leaving – quite literally – only a trace of what once was.

And as I’m about to turn right into Rothbury Terrace, another memory returns. Back in the ’60s the two main Heaton primary school options were Chillingham Road and Ravenswood. There were also St. Teresa’s for the Catholics, which I can recall being built – and very futuristic it seemed at the time – and Cragside, but which was more for the children of High Heaton.

 Many years later someone told me that the back lane between Rothbury and Meldon Terraces – at least on this west side of Chillingham Road – was the dividing line for the catchment areas of Chillingham Road and Ravenswood primary schools. Put simply, if a child lived on Meldon Terrace and all streets south, then s/he went to Chillingham Road; however, living on Rothbury Terrace and all streets north, then s/he went to Ravenswood. Therefore, in my own case, living on Simonside Terrace meant I went to Ravenswood, even though Chillingham Road was actually nearer to my home.

 I’m rather glad that I did. Meaning absolutely no offence to any readers who may have gone to Chillingham Road primary school, and casting no aspersions on the quality of education which they received there, I always felt that Ravenswood was the better deal. Having opened in 1893, Chillingham Road was already an institutional pensioner when I started at Ravenswood in early 1961, whereas the latter – having opened in 1953 – was still in short trousers, and was still only going through institutional puberty when I left in 1966.

But there was more to it than age. Chillingham Road School seemed to me, in those days, to be a tall, dark, brooding presence, positioned almost menacingly right on … well, right on Chillingham Road, naturally enough … and displaying a stern, grassless, late Victorian asceticism. On the other hand, Ravenswood was lighter and more low-rise, exhibiting the modernity and optimism appropriate to the reign of a new, young queen, with its several acres of school field symbolic of the openness and boundless opportunities that might lie ahead for its pupils. (I can recall how we lost about ten yards from the bottom of the school field in 1965 or so, as a consequence of the Coast Road widening scheme – but we had so much it would have seemed churlish to complain.)

And so I turn right into Rothbury Terrace. Oh! And what’s this? There is still a shop here, after all. Occupying the same space as the former Tulip’s, it seems that the decision has been made to have the door and shop front here rather than around the corner on the side street, where it used to be when I knew it. Fair enough.  It’s no longer ‘Tulip’s’ of course. Now the owner’s name is Kohli.

So I now look towards Heaton Road. I’ll be soon be crossing it and entering Armstrong Park. But as I begin to walk in that direction, another set of memories comes flooding back. In the early to mid 1960s Heaton wasn’t a very diverse and vibrant place, in the ethnic sense. If one’s mother was daring enough to ever serve up a Vesta beef curry, then that tended to be about as diverse as life ever got. Until things began to change. In the mid-60’s. And right here. Yes here. On Rothbury Terrace.

 What do you remember?

We’d love to hear memories and see the photos of anyone who has lived, studied, worked or played in Heaton. Either leave your comments below the heading of this article or mail Chris Jackson, Secretary, Heaton History Group.