TALES OF MY FATHER
My Father ……. Jack-of-all-Trades, Master-of-None ……. an enigma
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TALE SEVEN:
MY FATHER (AND MY MOTHER!) & THE CAT
PART THREE:
THE NIGHT WE MET AN ANGEL
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Unfortunately, our fortunes took a down-turn later 1952 and we found ourselves being required to vacate the Pie ‘n’ Mash shop in Cambridge Heath Road. I never actually learned the true reason for this, but I suspect that it was rather the results of a series of events that caused it.
In hindsight, looking back at the events of this era, although very, very stressful at the time, were perhaps the best thing that happened to us.
My mother had been ill and had been in hospital for about two months suffering with Gall Bladder problems. An operation was planned to remove the offending organ, but my mother proved too nervous to allow it. Her nervous condition was not from fear of the operation, but rather from fear for my wellness and upkeep while she was in hospital.
Sadly, my father proved not to be the best husband and parent at this time. He failed to open the shop most evenings, as he was spending his time at the public house, The White Hart, just across the road.
The White Hart at Mile End Gate
My father was supposed to visit my mother each evening at the Bethnal Green Hospital and then return home and open the shop for business. Most evenings he arrived with only five minutes of visiting time left. At that time visiting was limited to only thirty minutes each evening and one hour on Sunday. Sadly for my mother, my father always turned up late after having drunk too much. This annoyed the Ward Sister and, for a while, he was banned from entry.
Ward Sisters – Past & Present
Centre: Florence Nightingale (1820-1910)
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My mother was greatly concerned as to my welfare. In those days, children of my age were not allowed to visit patients in hospital and she only saw me from the window of the Nurses’ Common Room for a few minutes, each Sunday afternoon, thanks to the kindness of the Ward Sister. I would go to the Hospital Courtyard and we would wave to each other, both crying copious amounts of tears while doing so!
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My poor mother spent almost two months in the Hospital and eventually left without the removal of her Gall Bladder.
My mother’s General Practitioner, Dr. Liebson, proved to be very helpful, as he told my mother that she had to give up the Pie ‘n’ Mash Shop since the hours (believe it or not, my parents worked ~ fourteen hours a day without help!) that she was working there, plus looking after our home, along with the anxiety caused by my father’s drinking, would eventually lead to an early demise. He also helped her with her diet.
Pie & Mash Shops
Fortunately, my mother heeded the advice of her doctor, and over time, she reached a point where she no longer suffered with grueling abdominal pains together with a lowering of her elevated blood pressure.
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In 1953, Britain was still not over the effects of the Second World War. The East End did not seem to hold high-priority in its rebuilding schedule for Stepney and Bethnal Green were still littered with bomb sites and many lived in homes that had long since been condemned, as abodes unfit for living. Every day after school, my mother and I left my father to run the shop while we scoured the streets for somewhere to live. No new housing was being built at the time in our area of the East End of London and places to live were in short supply to say the least. We knocked at so many houses to ask if there were any rooms to rent, only to be told none were available.
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My mother and I went to the Housing Department of the Bethnal Green Town Hall (now the Town Hall Hotel Bethnal Green) in the hope of finding somewhere to live, or at least put our name on the list along with others seeking shelter.
Bethnal Green Town Hall
They proved to be of no help at all. In fact all they could offer was sleeping space for my father and me at a Salvation Army Home and somewhere else for my mother! Firstly, shelters in those days were no places that you would choose to go to. The sleeping space would be in a large room with lots of other men, mostly those that drank too much and some survived on Methylated Spirits while others suffered with various illness including Tuberculosis. My mother was furious that all that could be offered to us was SEPERATION!!!
The Christian Mission Headquarters on Whitechapel Road became the Salvation Army’s first International Headquarters in 1880, but was moved to Queen Victoria Street in 1881.
The building was refurbished (2000-2002) and is known as Booth House.
It is the largest hostel for men in London.
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I hate to mention it, but the area of the Whitechapel Road where the Salvation Army Hostel was situated, was renowned for the odour that existed. I remember asking my father what was the cause of this nasty smell. He told me that it came from the drains. I recall that this odour lingered on for years. However, it is no longer present today.
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We were now desperate, as the time was approaching when we would be forced to vacate our home and living on the street was seeming to be our most likely option!
No Room At The Inn – painted by Margaret Tarrant (1888-1959)
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I remember one evening soon after visiting the Bethnal Green Town Hall, which had been passed as usual, walking down street after street continuing our quest for somewhere to live without success, my mother and I were now at the point of loosing heart and thinking that we would never find anywhere to live. We were feeling totally dejected and were very, very tried. At this point, we decided to call it a night and make our way home. For some unknown reason, my mother decided to walk down a side street running off Roman Road in the hope that perhaps – just perhaps – there might be some windows without curtains.
Roman Road Market
Reproduced with permission from …….
Although we were unable to find any curtain-less windows, the detour was to prove most fortuitous for us. In the distance my mother noticed someone that we knew, and as we approached her, the person recognised us and gave us a cheery wave of recognition.
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My mother was a great believer in Providence and believed that Angels appear in many forms. She believed that G-d intervenes when one reaches an especially low point and offers help. If one believes, then the solution to a difficult situation will eventually become apparent. Over the years, I have to confess that life’s experiences have taught me that her belief is not wrong. However I feel sure that those who have been fortunate enough not to have been faced with a disastrous situation will not agree.
As it is said, as the French say, chacun son goût!
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There, walking towards us, was what we later felt was an angel in the form of dear Miss Kingston complete with her Victorian Bonnet perched on her head. My poor mother was overwhelmed at having seen a friendly face on the street that night and realising that it was Miss Kingston. She immediately launched into explaining why we were walking the streets of Bethnal Green at that late hour of the evening, and in doing so, poured out the origins of our predicament.
Miss Kingston
Miss Kingston listened intently without interrupting my mother as she spoke. Once she finished speaking, Miss Kingston told us that she had a couple of small empty rooms at the top of her house on Paradise Row, and that we were welcome to come and view them to see if they were suitable for us. I remember that my mother looked to heaven and thanked G-d for our having been led to walk home via that small street just off the Roman Road and so meet Miss Kingston.
My mother made an appointment to view the rooms on the following evening. We then bade Miss Kingston goodnight and made our way home feeling much better.
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A Panoramic View of Paradise Row with Paradise Gardens in the foreground (in 2015)
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Hello my name is Brian Keenan i am currently working on my late mothers life story with my older brother, mum passed away a year ago on 2nd December 2020. Mum lived in 8 Paradise row in 1943, and came close to being part of the biggest civilian disaster at Bethnal green tube station.
it was only because the land lady at the time when leaving the house (8 Paradise Row) fell down the front door steps breaking her glasses and my nan (Mums mum) refusing to leave her and help her up that the Air Raid warden told them they wont make it across the road to the tube station and instead guided all three of them to the shelter under the railway bridge behind the Salmon & Bull public house.
by 1953 when you moved in mum was living with her mother in their own council flat in Wilmot St Bethnal green where they remained until moving to Farnborough Hampshire in 1966. I would very much appreciate any photos you have of 8 Paradise row and the surrounding area.
Brian: Small world!!!!! The only photographs etc that I have of Bethnal Green are on my other website:
eastend-memories.org
Check out my tales about the ESSOLDO BETHNAL GREEN and THE EXCELSIOR KINO – this is where you will find what I have.
I am planning a series about my mother to complement that of my father, but I keep getting sidetracked!!!!
I would love to read the story of your mother when it is finished.
Thanks for writing.
Charles