Tag Archives: Clough’s

Around Heaton’s Shops – with a Camera (Part One)

Eric Dale was born in 1937 and in about 1939 moved with his family from Corbridge Street, Byker to Eighth Avenue in Heaton. Like many of us, he clearly remembers many of the shops of his boyhood but, even better, from our point of view, he returned with his camera in the 1970s, 80s and 90s.

Here he takes us on a walking tour of some of the highlights, from  the Avenues where he grew up and along Chillingham Road and back, where he was sent on errands every Friday.  Inserted are photographs he took years later, alongside some taken this week.

The Avenues

On Second Avenue from Meldon Terrace going south: east side, on corner of Tenth Avenue I remember a small sweet shop and penny lending library at the no 1 bus stop. Opposite on Meldon corner was Thompson’s Red Stamp Stores. (Ed: This was a chain of grocery stores, which started in Blyth and spread throughout the north east.)

 

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Thompon’s Red Stamp Store, by 1994 a second hand furniture shop (Copyright: Eric Dale)

 

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Corner of Second and Meldon, 2017 – now a lettings agent (Copyright: Chris Jackson)

 

Next, a shop which recharged the glass-encased wet acid batteries (accumulators) which powered the household radio/wireless on the basis of take a spent one to the shop, pay your sixpence and get a freshly charged one in return. There was a chip-shop on King John Street corner. Opposite corner had a general dealer. (Ed: this corner is now residential properties.)

 

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Corner of Second Avenue and King John Street, 1994 (Copyright: Eric Dale)

 

On the corner of Balmoral Terrace and Second Avenue corner was an off-licence. If it still exists it must be the longest established retail outlet in Heaton. I lived in Eighth Avenue from the early 40s and remember as a very small child seeing deliveries being made to it by a steam-driven lorry or dray.

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Balmoral Wines, 1994 ( copyright Eric Dale)

(Ed: Well, yes, it does still exist! We’ll have to delve more into its history and see whether it rivals Clough’s for that title.)

 

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Balmoral Wines, still going strong, 2017 (Copyright: Chris Jackson)

Finally, on Second Avenue between First and Third, there was John Cook, gents’ hairdresser – and part-time bookies’ runner!

 

Chillingham Road

On west side of Chillingham Road going north was the Chillingham Hotel, then on the corner of Seventh a newsagent.

 

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Newsagent on the corner of Chillingham Road and Seventh Avenue in 1994 (Copyright: Eric Dale, 1994)

(Ed: This may have changed hands a few times but it’s still a newsagent’s)

 

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Newsagent on the corner of Chilli and Seventh, 2017 (Copyright: Chris Jackson)

 

On the opposite corner was Miss Welch’s, which sold sweets. Higher up Seventh on south side, McGee’s Bakery.

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McGee’s bakery, empty by 1984 (Copyright: Eric Dale)

(Ed: Again, like many of the former shops in the Avenues, it’s been converted into a residential property.)

Back to Chillingham Road: Harrison’s Bakery (‘Harrison’s Pies are full of flies, it’s a puzzle to find the meat!’) was where mam always specified a ‘high-baked’ wholemeal small loaf which cost sixpence farthing. Wedgewood’s general dealers was on Eighth corner.

On the opposite corner was the Grace Fairless second-hand shop, where on rainy days I used to swap comics such as the ‘Beano’, ‘Dandy’, ‘Knockout’ and ‘Film Fun’ for older editions that I’d take along. As I grew older myself the favourites became the boys’ story papers ‘The Adventure’, ‘Hotspur’, ‘Wizard’ and ‘Rover‘; featuring ‘The Tough of the Track’ and ‘Smith of the Lower Third’).

Elliot’s general dealers (a small refund when returning pop bottles) was next in the row, later taken on by John and Mary from Chester-le-Street, then came Laidler’s fish and chips (‘a fish and threepen’orth’ was the usual order, but when new potatoes were in season chips went up to fourpence) and thenTurnbull’s newsagents.

Still on west side of Chillingham Road, after the school and on Meldon Terrace corner Fong Wah Laundry, then The Pie Shop (without doubt the least savoury chips in Heaton: greasy, limp and soggy), The Clock and Model Shop, Dennison and Graham chemist, the garage and filling station.  (Ed:Note the 1984 prices in the photo. If our maths can be trusted that’s £1.85 for 4.55 litres or 40.66p a litre. About £1.15 today? But maybe that’s not too bad compared with the rise in cost of, say, going to St James’ Park?)

 

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Chillingham Road filling station, 1984 (Copyright: Eric Dale)

 

 

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The old Chillingham Road filling station site, about to be redeveloped, 2017 (Copyright: Chris Jackson)

 

Grosvenor Ballroom, The Scala Cinema, The Co-op, a newsagent and Post Office on the corner of Cartington Terrace. Finally Riddells Photography, another very long-established business.

On east side from the south: on Spencer Street corner L.C. Garage, then Oakley fireplaces/plumbers.

 

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Oakley’s the plumber, 1994 (Copyright: Eric Dale)

 

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Oakley’s the plumbers boarded up for many years, 2017 (Copyright: Chris Jackson)

 

Hedley’s the greengrocer was on the corner of Rothbury Terrace (there was a sloping wooden ramp down into the shop) and then Trutime Watch Co, which many older residents will remember well.

 

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The Trutime Watch Co, 1984 (Copyright: Eric Dale)

 

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Trutime Watch Co ( the fascia uncovered a couple of years ago) to let, 2017 (Copyright: Chris Jackson)

 

Nearby was London and Newcastle Tea Company and, just before Watson’s Paint and Wallpaper, Clough’s sweet shop. Yes, younger readers might not know there used to be more than one Clough’s – they must have bulk bought all the blue paint in Heaton!

 

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Clough’s Chillingham Road shop’s golden anniversary, 1984 (copyright: Eric Dale)

 

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Formerly Clough’s Chilli Road, Bijou Hairdressing in 2017 (Copyright: Chris Jackson)

 

My Weekly Shop at the Co-op

Each Friday tea-time it was my job to walk along to the Co-op on Chillingham Road with my little shopping list and bring back the bacon (literally). Shopping there was a nightmare as each product was allocated a different counter. Sugar had to be weighed up and neatly packed in blue bags, lumps of the desired weight were hacked from barrel-shaped slabs of butter, cheese was similarly cut from large rounds and bacon thinly sliced on a hand-operated machine. Nothing perishable was pre-wrapped. And there was the additional tedium waiting whilst the relevant coupons were clipped from ration books. Jam, when it was available (and during the war it was always Damson) at least came in jars! Because there was no queueing system in place it was a struggle to maintain position in the mass of adult customers clamouring to be served….and I was only a kid less than half their size. I hated it, and it’s no surprise that I can remember our Co-op dividend number to this day. Just for reference, ration allocations per person per week in 1945 were 2 ounces butter and cheese, 4 ounces bacon and margarine, 8 ounces sugar. All rationing ended in 1954.

Acknowledgements

A big thank you to Eric Dale for his photos and memories. We’ll be featuring more in the near future.

Can you help?

We hope that you will add to what we know about the shops on Chillingham Road and in the Avenues. Either post your comments direct to this site by clicking on the link immediately below the article title or email chris.jackson@heatonhistorygroup.org. It would be fantastic to find some more old photos.

Or if you are able to volunteer to take photos in Heaton today, again please get in touch. Think how interesting they will be in a few years time.

The Night Bombs Rained on Heaton: expanded second edition

To commemorate the 75th anniversary of one of Newcastle’s worst nights of World War 2, Heaton History Group member, Ian Clough, wrote: ‘The Night Bombs Rained on Heaton: 25th April 1941’.

Ian researched the event of that night, in which 47 people died when a parachute mine and a high explosive device destroyed many houses and lives in Guildford Place and Cheltenham Terrace, just yards away from his parents’ shop (still, of course, Clough’s Sweetshop to this day). He interviewed both survivors and relatives of those killed and gives us an insight into the victims’ lives, so tragically cut short.

Since the publication of the first edition, many more stories have come to light and have been incorporated into an expanded second edition, making it an even more tribute to everyone who died in Heaton that night.

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Obtain a copy

The 28 page, black and white A5 book, which contains both historic and modern photographs is available only from Heaton History Group, either for £2 at any Heaton History Group talk or £3 to include postage and packing (cheques to be made payable to ‘Heaton History Group’) from Heaton History Group, c/o The Secretary, 64 Redcar Road, Heaton, Newcastle upon Tyne NE6 5UE.

More

You can read an earlier article by Ian here

Can you help?

If you know more about the night of 25-26 April 1941 or have memories, family stories or photographs of Heaton during WW2 to share, we’d love to hear from you. Either write directly to this website, by clicking on the link immediately below the title of this article or email the secretary of Heaton History Group,  chris.jackson@heatonhistorygroup.org

 

 

Shopping on Chillingham Road

A Heaton exile, Mrs Fletcher,  has written to us with her memories of Chillingham Road. We hope that they and the photographs from an even earlier time will prompt other readers to add some of their own:

‘I grew up and lived in Heaton in a typical Tyneside flat from 1940-64. As a child living in Warton Terrace,

 

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Warton Terrace (Edwardian postcard)

 

 

I was only a ‘hop skip and a jump’ from Chillingham Road and I enjoyed shopping there with my mam or ‘going for messages’ for her. In those days ‘Chilly Road’ looked rather different – there were no trees, handy seats, estate agents, charity shops or supermarkets and a takeaway to us was fish and chips (taking newspaper for outer wrapping). There weren’t many cars but there were trams (later replaced by buses).

 

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Chillingham Road (Edwardian postcard )

 

There was however a wide variety of shops. Some that come to mind are – Burrel’s butchers where we bought such things as black pudding and ‘scrag end’… Pinder’s greengrocers for ‘half a stone of potatoes’…  Nesbit’s bakers for an ‘Edinburgh brown’ loaf… Sayer’s greengrocers where Mam first bought frozen food – a carton of bilberries. She’d have used them fairly quickly as we never had a fridge!  There was Law’s stores for groceries, Little’s Dairy, which sold wonderful ice-cream and Donkin’s toyshop which also had a lending library. Nearby was a drapers.
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Chillingham Road (Edwardian postcard)

Then there were several Co-op shops, Fong Wah’s laundry, a radio shop, Manners pork shop, two drycleaners, an off-licence, chemists, a wallpaper shop, fresh fish shop and many others.
At the post office I bought sheets of colourful pictures called ‘scraps’ to stick into my scrapbook. Next to the pillar box outside was a useful stamp machine. There was a newsagent who would deliver my  ‘Beano’ and ‘Dandy‘ comics and later ‘School Friend’.
At the tiny branch of Clough’s we used to buy our sweets, like my favourite sherbet lollies, on the way to enjoy ‘the pictures’ along the road at the Scala.
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Scala, Chillingham Road c1936

 I also remember the ‘Tru-time Watch Company’ where I bought a necklace in the 1950s (I still have it). Happy days…’
Acknowledgements
Thank you, Mrs. Fletcher, for taking the time to write and share your memories and also to Hilary Bray (nee Bates) who gave us permission to digitise and use photographs of Heaton from her collection.
Can you help? 

If you have memories of shopping on Chillingham Road or you or a member of your family kept a shop there or you can tell us more about the places depicted in the photographs, we’d love to hear from you. You can contact us either through this website by clicking on the link immediately below the article title or by emailing chris.jackson@heatonhistorygroup.org

The Night Bombs Rained on Heaton

On Friday 25 – Saturday 26 April 1941, Newcastle endured one of its worst nights of the Second World War, with terrible consequences in Heaton. The area had suffered bomb damage before and would again, as the Germans targeted railways, factories and shipyards – but this was a night like no other.

Earlier in the evening, incendiary bombs had fallen around the Heaton Secondary Schools in High Heaton and damaged properties on Stephenson Road, Horsley Road and Weldon Crescent. Two had fallen onto the eaves of the Corner House Hotel, where civilians scaled a drainpipe and threw them to the ground to be extinguished with sand.

The Lyric Cinema (now the People’s Theatre) was also hit. And on Jesmond Park East, two houses ‘Denehurst‘ and ‘Wyncote’ (which was occupied by the military at the time) suffered fire and water damage. There was other minor damage right across the east of Newcastle. But none of these episodes, as terrifying as they were to those in the vicinity, prepared the people of Heaton for what came next.

Devastation

At 10.20pm a high explosive device seriously damaged numbers 20 and 22 Cheltenham Terrace. Two people were seriously injured at number 20 and were taken to First Aid post Number 6. Another ten people were treated at the scene. Simultaneously, incendiary bombs  hit the nearby Heaton Electric cinema.

Ten minutes later, another high explosive completely demolished numbers 4 and 6 Cheltenham Terrace. Two bodies were recovered before rescuers had to give up for the night due to the threat of the gable end collapsing. There was considered to be no chance of any survivors.

And at the same time, a parachute mine fell on the adjoining Guildford Place, demolishing several houses and causing severe damage to many more. Although water was immediately sprayed over the area, a fractured gas main caught fire.

 

Bomb damage on Guildford Place

Bomb damage on Guildford Place

And still the raid continued. A high explosive device made a huge crater at the junction of Algernon and Shields Roads, with three men injured when another gas main exploded. And nearby a gents’ lavatory at the junction of Shields Road and Union Road was completely destroyed. Yet another bomb fell on the main walk of Heaton Park but here only greenhouse windows were broken.

This  detail from a German map of Tyneside, dating from 1941, illustrates how vulnerable Heaton and, in particular Guildford Place and Cheltenham Terrace were, squeezed as they were between key Nazi targets, marked in red, purple and black.

German map of Heaton, 1941

German map of Heaton, 1941

You can see the full map on the Library of Congress website.

Heaton History Group member, Ian Clough, remembers that his father, who even then kept the sweetshop that still bears the family name, was one of the many overstretched emergency workers and volunteers on duty. He was a volunteer fireman and had to pass his own bomb-damaged shop to help others.

When we asked Ian if he could find out more about that awful night, he interviewed three survivors of the Guildford Place / Cheltenham Terrace tragedy. Here are their accounts:

Muriel’s story

‘I was at home with my parents Arthur and Elizabeth and Uncle George Shaw, Dad’s younger brother, at number 14 Cheltenham Terrace, together with two friends. We were having supper when the air raid siren sounded at approximately 9pm.

Muriel Shaw

Muriel Shaw

For some strange reason this was usually a cue for my mother to see that everything was tidy and that the dishes were washed. Father declared ‘That’s close’ and, after donning his black greatcoat, went upstairs to see if he could get sight of anything from the landing window. There was a whoosh sound initially, then a silence accompanied by a tangible pressure and then the force struck home – literally; father was propelled down the stairs without a button remaining on his coat.

The back of our house had been completely blown off. This was in the direction of the explosion so it was mainly through a vacuum effect. Father had erected stout doors to cover our dining room windows to comply with the blackout regulations and they may have offered protection from any flying debris from outside. I first realised that I was a victim in all that was happening when a wavering door in its frame threatened to fall on me but just missed. It gave way to a shower of bricks falling from upstairs which left lasting scars on my legs. Mother and I were showered with plaster dust and it seemed to take many weeks of hair washes to finally remove all of its traces. Strange things had happened; a teapot that was on the table was now on the mantelshelf in one piece. The piano was no longer an upright one as it had somersaulted over the settee and was now upside down and resting on a completely unharmed china cabinet with contents intact.

Dad’s other brothers also lived with us but were out at the time. Thomas was an air raid warden and William was a lay preacher and had been sick visiting. It wasn’t until the next day that we were told that both of them had been killed. At 4 Cheltenham Terrace, the Robson family of four had perished.

Guildford Place, the one-sided street that was back to back with us and overlooked the railway had taken a direct hit. Most of the occupants of numbers 8 through to 15 were killed. The Luftwaffe was targeting the marshalling yards at Heaton Junction but released their payload prematurely while following the line of the railway.

Our house was now uninhabitable but because the resources of the Council were overstretched we had to find temporary accommodation in Osborne Road, Jesmond. This happened immediately and so, what with that and working, I had little chance to witness the horrors that the authorities had to endure in recovering and identifying bodies and demolishing what was left of the houses.

After a year we moved back into our house (which by now was renumbered as 18). A gas pipe had burst in the blast and we were greeted by a bill for all that had leaked. Initially there was still scaffolding inside the house and as compensation was so inadequate we had to clear the mess and clean everything out ourselves. When we asked for wallpaper, which was in short supply, we were given enough to cover one wall. Our property now had become the gable end of one row of surviving terrace houses as the line of neighbouring homes on either side of us were deemed irreparable and pulled down.

On the night of the air raid my brother, Albert ,was away serving in the Army and brother Arthur was on fire watch for his firm on the Quayside. The devastation and annihilation of his neighbours prompted Arthur to join the R.A.F. and become a pilot but that, as they say, is another story.’

Ian discovered that the two friends who were having supper with Muriel and her family were Nell and her mother.

Nell’s story

Mother and I were sitting at the table after being invited to supper by Muriel and her family when suddenly we found ourselves in this nightmare situation. Both of us were being propelled backwards by the blast of an enormous explosion and then the ceiling came down on top of us. There was nothing we could do but lie there until the wardens came and dug us out. It is funny how strange things stick in your mind but as we were assisted out of the house via the hallway a musical jug was happily giving us a rendition of ‘On Ilkley Moor Ba Tat’.

Nell and her mother

Nell and her mother

Skirting around all of the amassed rubble that was once people’s homes we were taken to an air raid shelter in the cellar of Charlie Young, the butcher, on Heaton Road. When the ‘all clear’ was sounded, we discovered, through her covering of ceiling plaster, that mother’s face was covered in blood. Firstly she was taken to a first aid post at Chillingham Road baths and put on a stretcher. Then we both got into an ambulance and were turned back from many a hospital until mother was eventually admitted to the Eye Infirmary.

We asked a local policeman if he would get a message to my Uncle Jack who was also in the police and lived in the west end. Uncle took me in and the following day I realised that our handbags and other belongings had been left behind at Cheltenham Terrace. Walking along Heaton Road to see if I could retrieve them, I cannot recall how many people approached me with the same words; ‘I thought you were dead!’ Mother had lost the use of her left eye and had to wear a patch for the rest of her life and we had suffered a most traumatic experience. Yet we were the fortunate ones as for 45 members of those neighbouring families that night was to be their last.

Footnote 1 I believe that what Mr Shaw, Muriel and Arthur’s father, saw from his vantage point was something that at first looked like a large balloon which, on reflection, was a land mine on a parachute, floating down.

Footnote 2 I went to Heaton High School in the 1930s and one of my subjects was German so we were invited to meet and socialise with a group of German schoolchildren who were on a school visit hosted by Newcastle Council. They were given a list of Newcastle’s favourite tourist attractions and maps of Newcastle and the transport system to help them to get about. Many of us took up the offer of being pen pals and one girl even went on a visit to the home of one of the students and came back full of what she had been told of how Adolf Hitler was going to be such a wonderful leader of the German nation. When my pen pal remarked that he had heard that Newcastle had a large and important railway station and asked to be sent details, my dad told me not to write to him anymore. It was not long after that that we were at war with Germany. We then wondered if there had been something sinister behind the visit and were the children and their school teachers, innocently or otherwise, sent over on more than just a cultural mission.

Arthur’s story

I was on fire watch for my firm of importers at No14 Wharf on the Quayside when the air raid sirens started wailing and we were on full alert. I heard the noise of bombs exploding, repeatedly exploding, and I thought to myself ‘Somebody’s got it.’ I had a rough idea of the direction of the hits but nothing prepared me for the spectacle of devastation I was to see.

It was 9am, and daylight, as I approached Guildford Place; the one-sided terraced street overlooking the railway. Little was left of the houses nearest to Heaton Road and my heart raced as I hurried up to the corner of my own street Cheltenham Terrace. The first thing that greeted me was a ribbon strung across the road at the entrance to my street with a policeman on duty to prevent any looting. He stopped me going any further and I explained that I lived here. Well, I had lived here!

I was in a state of shock – astounded at what was all around me. I’m still vague as to how I found my family but they certainly weren’t there anymore. Muriel worked as secretary to the manager of Bitulac Ltd and he offered us temporary accommodation in his home on Osborne Road. Dad found us a house to rent on Chillingham Road and he borrowed a van to collect some of what was left of our furniture. When loaded up I got in the cab and father said ‘Have you locked the front door, son?’ He had to smile when I said ‘What’s the use of that, man? We’ve got no wall on the back of our house!’ We lived in Chillingham Road until our house was repaired.

Muriel and I were young and felt that we had to fulfil our duty to the nation. Muriel trained as a nurse and, at one time, she worked in a hospital where wounded soldiers were coming back from France. I had made my mind up that I wanted to be a pilot and joined the RAF.

Arthur Shaw

Arthur Shaw

The initial training procedure would astound anyone now. We were introduced to a de Havilland Tiger Moth and, within eight hours, were flying solo. The instructor would watch us from the ground – take off, fly around and then land. If you couldn’t do it you were no longer a pilot.

Then it was off to Canada to gain our proficiency. Why Canada? Well, most of the British airfields were being used for war operations and could not be spared for pilot training. We were taught navigation and how to read approaching weather conditions and understand the various cloud formations. We would normally then fly twin engine planes – Airspeed Oxfords in particular. One of the most difficult things to master was flying in formation and then banking to left or right. The outer pilots had to increase their speed slightly just to keep in line. It was important to be taught ground recognition and the open spaces of Canada did not challenge us enough and we had to come back home over towns and cities to gain experience in that skill.

I served abroad for a while and was then privileged to be asked to train as a flying instructor and was sent just over the Northumbrian border into Scotland for that. It was then my job to pass on my knowledge to the new recruits – young lads who were then sent out on dangerous missions where the mortality rate was so high.

When the war was over we queued up for our civvies (civilian clothes) it was almost a case of one size fits all and it did feel strange to be out of uniform. But we had done our bit and were thankful that we were the lucky ones – lucky to still be alive.

(You can read about Arthur’s later contribution to Heaton’s history here )

Roll of Honour

Bodies were still being recovered five days later. The final death toll was reported to be 46 with several bodies still unidentified. Those which remained unidentified were buried in a common grave in Heaton Cemetery.

As you can see from the following list, the ages of the known victims ranged from 9 weeks to 77 years and in several houses whole families died together.

William Aiken aged 43

Ethel Mary Airey, aged 23

Amy Angus 17

Edna Jane Angus 28

Hannah Angus 49

Ian Angus 13

Maureen Angus 15

Robert Nixon Angus 29

Mary Elizabeth Glass Balmer 17

William Blenkinsop 38

John McKnight Erskine 20

James Falcus 45

Albert George Fuller 37

Gordon W T Gardner 25

Elizabeth Glass 53

Edith Rosina Hagon 8

Joan Thompson Hagon 30

Joyce Hagon 16

Raymond Hagon 7

Isabella Harrison 77

William Henry Hoggett 39

Mary Jane Moffit 62

Archibold Taylor Munro 29

Ethel Mary Park 60

Francis Park 58

Mavis Park 31

Alice Jane Reed 64

Joseph Dixon Reed 68

Joseph Lancelot Reed 9 weeks

Eliza Margaret Robson 70

Ella Mildred Robson 43

Evelyn Robson 38

James Kenneth Robson 19

William Robson 72

Thomas Shaw 48

William Atkinson Shaw 40

Robert Smith 27

Edwin Snowdon 17

Henry Snowdon 12

Nora Snowdon 46

Victor Snowdon 48

Charles Thomas Thompson 62

David Harkus Venus 27

Alexander Henry White 54

Blanche White 43

Thank you

Roy Ripley and Brian Pears, whose website is an amazing resource for anyone researching the WW2 home front in the north east;

Heaton History Group member, Julia McLaren, who drew our attention to the German map of Tyneside.

Can you help?

if you know more about the night of 25-26 April 1941 or have memories, family stories or photographs of Heaton during WW2 to share, we’d love to hear from you. Either write directly to this website, by clicking on the link immediately below the title of this article or email the secretary of Heaton History Group,  chris.Jackson@heatonhistorygroup.org

 

88 Heaton Road – Clough’s Sweet Shop

Cola bottles, rum truffles, rhubarb and custard, sherbet lemons, pear drops, liquorice torpedoes, cinder toffee, cough candy. Which are your favourites? Many are still sold at Clough’s Sweet Shop on Heaton Road.

How did it all start?

In 1934, Arthur and Edith Clough set up the shop at 88 Heaton Road as a confectioner’s and general dealer’s. With the growth of supermarkets in the 1980s, they dropped the grocery side of the business to concentrate on confectionery.

Mrs Clough in her sweetshop

This part of Heaton Road was built in 1896 as part of a block of shops (with accommodation above). Wards Directory 1898 lists a W.Wilson confectioner at 88 Heaton Road and in 1920 Mosely & Jameson, confectioners, appear. In 1934 Wards records A.W. Bradley confectioner at 90 Heaton Road. So there seems to have been a long tradition of sweetshops in this block.

Arthur and Edith were apparently a good team. Arthur was fetcher, carrier, storeman and bookkeeper. Edith was very good at the sales side of things and window dressing. Virtually everything was bought direct from the manufacturers via the commercial travellers. The shop was open from 9.00 or 9.30 am until 10pm. Arthur and Edith had very little time off from the shop, usually one evening a week. In 1935 an additional shop was opened at 220 Chillingham Road and later a third in Sandyford Road.

War damage

In war time, Arthur volunteered as a fireman in the AFS (Auxiliary Fires Service) where he attained the rank of leading fireman. On 25 April 1941, the Luftwaffe attempted to bomb the railway line but hit the houses of Cheltenham Terrace and Guildford Place, causing utter devastation and many fatalities. The blast blew Clough’s shop windows out and spewed the contents into the street. Arthur’s team turned out but he had to pass his own damaged shop to attend to another location – imagine how that must have felt…..

Arthur and Edith’s three children, Ian, Hazel and Alan, all helped in the shop and were encouraged to learn the trade. After National Service, Ian set up his own shop, Candy Corner, opposite St. Theresa’s Church. In the early days the sweet jars were made of glass and it was hard work when the stock was delivered. The shop on Heaton Road had 2 back rooms, a cellar and two upstairs rooms called ‘The Cadburys Room’ and the ‘Rowntrees Room’.

Cloughs Sweet shop is still very much a going concern run by Alan following the death of his mother Edith in 2001 aged 95 years (Arthur died in 1993). The shop now sells more than 300 kinds of sweets. There are lots of loyal customers who say how pleased they are to be able to come to the shop they used to come to when they were children.

Ian Clough has recently updated his history of the Clough’s family’s sweetshop, which is available for purchase from Cloughs or at Heaton History Group meetings for £2.00. Why not call in and see if they still stock your childhood favourites!

And we’d love to hear your memories of Clough’s. Click on Leave a Reply just below the title of this article or email Chris Jackson.

Ann Denton

92 Heaton Road

The shop in the premises now occupied by Pizzeria Uno has been through many changes of ownership since it opened in 1897.

The first proprietor was Henry Dryden Crowe, a stationer. By this time Henry was in his early fifties and before going into business, he had been a Free Methodist Minister, work he continued, at least in the early days, even while running the stationers. He was born in Darlington and had held positions in the church in various places, including Lincolnshire and Tynemouth, but by 1891 was living in Stannington Avenue, Heaton with his wife, Annie, and their three children. By 1901, although he was running the Heaton shop, he was living in North Shields and in 1902 he took on a business partner, the much younger Alexander Denholm Brash, then aged 27. By 1905 Brash became the sole proprietor of what he variously described as a bookshop, stationer’s and circulating library. He also ran an ‘artistic stationer’s’ in the County Hotel Buildings opposite Newcastle Central Station.

90 Heaton Road

Alexander Denholm Brash’s booksellers, stationers and circulating library

Brash’s is second right in the above picture. The confectioner’s next to it on the right of the photograph is what is now Clough’s sweet shop.

Postcard legacy

Alexander Brash had been born in Nottingham in 1875. His father was a Wesleyan minister and as a result, the family moved frequently during Alexander’s childhood and adolescence. In the 1891 census, aged 17, Alexander was described as a draper’s assistant. The family were living in London at this time, but by 1901 they had moved to Newcastle (Elswick) and Alexander was a stationer’s assistant. We don’t know whether he was already working for Henry Crowe, but it’s certainly possible and we can make an educated guess that the families knew each other through the church, Wesleyans and Free Methodists being closely aligned.

Although he only owned 92 Heaton Road for around 5 years, Alexander Brash left an enduring legacy. The early twentieth century was the height of the popularity of picture postcards. The Post Office authorised them in 1894 but until 1902, any message had to be written on the front, underneath or around the photograph.

Alexander was alive to the opportunities created by longer messages being permitted on the back. There were multiple postal collections and deliveries a day at this time and people used postcards to arrange same day meetings, much as we might use the phone or a text message now.

Brash published and sold many cards depicting mainly NE and Yorkshire scenes. Examples of the Brash Series, with its distinctive style, can still be found on Ebay and in secondhand shops today and include local images.

Green Water Pool, Jesmond Vale. Postcard published by Alexander Denholm Brash

Green Water Pool, Jesmond Vale

Jesmond Dene, 'Brash series'

Jesmond Dene, ‘Brash series’

Brash Jesmond Dene

Jesmond Dene

Alexander Denholm Brash only stayed in Newcastle for a few years. By the time of the 1911 census, he was described as a librarian and he lived in Paddington, London and worked for Boots. His granddaughter’s husband, Michael Venter, has kindly provided us with some information about Brash’s later life. Alexander married Enid Armstrong, the granddaughter of the Great Western Railway locomotive engineer, Joseph Armstrong. Enid’s father, John, was Divisional Locomotive Superintendent of the Paddington Division, where one of his duties was to supervise the running of the royal train. Like the Brashes, the Armstrong family were Methodists.

Alexander and Enid, a ‘nature study teacher’, emigrated to Cape Town, where Alexander was involved in the opening of the first Juta bookshop. (Juta is the oldest academic publisher in South Africa). They later returned to the UK to raise a family. Alexander eventually died in Llandudno in 1943.

Meat, hats and sewing machines

Between 1907 and 1921, the shop at 92 Heaton Road changed hands five times. It briefly remained a stationers, run by John P Scott, before being taken over by Eastman’s, a large chain of butchers, which had over 20 shops across Tyneside. At the outbreak of World War 1, the shop became a milliner’s owned by James W Doughty. And a year later, the shop changed hands again, this time becoming a branch of what was then one of the biggest brands in the world, the Singer Sewing Machine Company. The sewing machine company’s highly successful business model was based on the machines being affordable via HP and a network of local service engineers which gave customers confidence that their purchases would have a long life. We don’t know why the Heaton Road branch was so short-lived but the next proprietor had much more staying power.

Forty years in footwear

Ernest Marshall Harmer was born in Hackney, London in 1879. His father, who originated from Norfolk, described himself in the 1901 census as a self-employed shoe and boot manufacturer but Ernest at this time, aged about 22, was described as an engineer’s turner.

By 1906, however, Ernest had relocated to Newcastle, was living at 17 Heaton Road and had a boot makers business in a corner shop at 1A Cheltenham Terrace. His business expanded. By 1909, he had an additional shop in Victoria Buildings and had married Yorkshire-born typist, Elizabeth Fannie Wilson, the daughter of an auctioneer’s clerk by then living in Jesmond. Ernest soon bought a shop at 259 Chillingham Road, where he and Elizabeth lived. He took over at 92 Heaton Road in 1921. By 1927, he’d moved his own family to the more upmarket Coquet Terrace and was still running two cobbler’s shops. After World War 2, he downsized but was still running the Heaton Road shop in 1950 at the age of 71 and 44 years after opening his first Heaton business. Ernest died in 1957 leaving almost £10,000 in his will, a sizeable sum then.

Keeping Heaton clean

The next business to occupy the premises was also comparatively long lived. In 1953, it became one of Newcastle’s first laundrettes. The first UK self-service laundry had only opened four years before in Queensway, London. When the Heaton shop opened, Laundrettes (Newcastle) Ltd had one other shop in Adelaide Terrace in the west end. Branches in Jesmond, Gosforth and Gateshead were soon to follow and it had a presence in Heaton Road for another 20 years.

Can you help?

If you know more about any of the people mentioned here, remember Harmer’s shoe shop or the laundrette, can tell us what came between the laundrette and Pizzeria Uno or have any photographs of 92 Heaton Road, please get in touch. In fact, we’re interested in any historic photographs of Heaton shops and to hear your memories.

Life and Wartime on Heaton Hall Estate

Heaton History Group member, Keith Fisher, is a keen local and family historian. Here is his account of his grandparents’ move to the Heaton Hall Estate in the 1930s and their wartime experiences:

My Grandad Fisher’s Mother and Grandmother, stalwart refugees from Aberdeen, had lived over their drapery, millinery and hosier’s shop – Carrol & Co – down at the bottom of Raby Street until 1920 when they moved into a flat on Eighth Avenue [#75]. Apart from working in the family shop, my Grandad also played violin and piano in the orchestra at the Heaton Electric dances which is where he met my Gran and they also went to live in Eighth Avenue after getting married [#73]. That’s where my Father was born in 1930; it was also where his younger brother was born, although he was still in the cradle when, in 1933, the Mother and Grandmother – whose business was doing very well – decided to buy a pair of flats on the forthcoming prestigious Heaton Hall Estate.

William Hall & Son of Low Fell were about to turn the Potter estate into what we know today and the flats at 20/22 Tintern Crescent were sold to us for £330.00. They were only ever sold as up and down pairs; in fact, that protocol remained in place until 1984 when #20 – which was then my flat – was sold independent of #22 after a great deal of head-scratching and pencil chewing by our solicitor considering who owned what front garden, who owned the shed, the coal-houses, the driveway down the side etc, etc, etc.

Google image of the estate showing the former position of Heaton Hall and other features (by Keith Fisher)

Google image of the estate showing the former position of Heaton Hall and other features (by Keith Fisher)

Anyway, back to Mother and Grandmother McPherson: they – along with my Grandparents – were convinced at the time of purchase that they would enjoy an unobstructed view across Tintern, out over the park and way beyond to the setting sun. It would have been a good deal less convincing if they had bothered to check the site plans, because not only was it Billy Hall’s intention to build on the opposite side but they had actually all been sold in advance before the end of 1932. My family had already moved-in when they discovered that construction was beginning on the top of the bank (overlooking Shaftsbury) and by then, of course, it was too late. It had seemed inconceivable that a row of houses could be secured on such a precipitous incline; and, in fact, only a few years after construction, two weeks’ worth of concrete was poured into the existing retaining wall in the hope of stopping the almost immediate slippage. Needless to say, it was unsuccessful and they continue to slide down the hill to such an extent that you can’t raise a mortgage on those properties and they must change hands on a cash basis.

By the time the war had started, my family had opened another shop at 108 Heaton Road (the opposite end of the block to Clough’s bar one) so my grandmother could run it and be close-by for her boys who were studying at Chilly Road School.

Because they were not short of a bob-or-two, my Grandparents had a rather sophisticated air-raid shelter constructed in the back-garden – by the same workers who had demolished Heaton Hall and built the new estate as it happens. Sophisticated by Anderson Shelter standards anyway: they dug a 10 foot deep and 8 by 6 foot hole which was lined with six inches of concrete; accessed by stairs past a blast-wall and covered over with 12 inches of reinforced concrete which was further protected by heaping up all the soil they had previously dug out. My Grandfather had money and he was using every penny necessary to protect his wife and kids. They put bunk beds in there, a fireside chair, an electric fire and a light. Luxury! Apart from the rain coming down the stairs of course; sandbagging was all they could do about that.

Friday 25th April 1941, the night of the Guildford Place/Cheltenham Terrace tragedy, my Grandmother stopped briefly at the top of the steps into the shelter because she heard a curious flap, flap, flap sound in the sky that she had never heard before. It was the parachute bringing down the ‘land-mine’. The explosion cracked the back wall of the house behind us (at 87 Heaton Road) from top corner to door lintel and it remained that way because the landlord wouldn’t repair it; I suspect the house was prone to subsidence because it was built on the site of a large tree from the old estate; I further suspect it is still cracked.

When my Grandfather (both he and Mr Clough had been on duty with the Auxiliary Fire Service that night) went to open his Heaton Road business the following morning he found a back-boiler, still glowing red-hot, in the rear of his shop – blown there from Guildford Place by the land-mine. He was subsequently told by neighbours that eight people had been found dead – totally unmarked and still sitting upright – in an air-raid shelter behind Clough’s: their heart’s stopped by the blast of the bomb. This fact was never reported publically and even today doesn’t appear in any of the official accounts of the incident; probably because of the adverse influence it could have had on people using shelters.

In the August of 1945 they brought in the workers again and broke up the roof of our shelter – it took them a week – then dumped the concrete and the soil into the hole, leaving the steps, the walls and the floor intact. My Grandfather built a large garden shed over the site that was subsequently replaced by my Father with the existing version in 1989; so the presence of the walls and stairs and floor of the shelter will remain a buried secret for eternity I suspect. Not exactly Tutankhamen’s tomb of course, but never mind: there’s so much undiscovered history on the site of Heaton Hall estate that it can just be added to the list.

If you would like to contribute to the Heaton History Group website, please contact Chris Jackson