Pearsons Is Still There
When C and I were children, if our parents wanted anything for the home or perhaps some school uniform, we would take the 107 bus from Oakwood and East Barnet respectively and go to Enfield to shop at Pearsons, which was the local department store.
Pearsons Is Still There
It still is, as the picture shows. Although, it is now part of a larger group.
All those days ago, Pearsons was a shop with a central Accounts Department. So if you bought anything, the bill and your money was sent by a system of overhead wires and little trolleys by the assistant and then the change was returned. Later it was replaced by a pneumatic system, which was similar to the one, that Libertys were using into the 1970s.
There’s more in Wikipedia under cash carriers.
The Wheatsheaf, Enfield Chase
The Wheatsheaf, by Enfield Chase station, is another pub, where I used to drink with my mate, Pete, like the Warwick in New Barnet.
The Wheatsheaf, Enfield Chase
Both these pubs were on the 107 bus route from where we lived at Oakwood.
If I’d walked back up the hill in the 1960s, I would have seen the local printing firm of Bennett and Starling, who were one of my father’s competitors. The site is now a littleWaitrose and some housing.
Memories of Wood Green
I walked up to Bruce Castle Museum from Bruce Grove station early this afternoon. It was not a difficult walk and there are some buildings worth looking at on the way.
Luke Howard, Namer of Clouds Lived Here
This rather derelict building being refurbished was the home of Luke Howard. He seems to have been an amazing man with a wide degree of scientific interests, who should be remembered for a lot more than his classification of clouds. He must also have been the only pharmacist praised in a poem by Goethe.
But Howard gives us with his clear mindThe gain of lessons new to all mankind;That which no hand can reach, no hand can claspHe first has gained, first held with mental grasp.
I suspect too, that he might have been the Howard after whom the local telephone exchange in Enfield was named. Enfield Rolling Mills, who were my father’s biggest customer and where I worked for a couple of summers, had a phone number of Howard 1255. There is a list of all the old London exchange names here.
I enjoyed the museum, as it brought back some happy memories for me. I will be back.
- C’s godmother and her sister had worked at the Gestetner factory in Tottenham Hale and had a flat which would have been in the middle of the riots, although it looked like no damage was done. They were a lovely pair of sisters, who’d had a hard life, but who always remained cheerful to the end. They both lived into their eighties and still had all their marbles when they died. But I think, if they’d had the sort of healthcare that we get now, they might have had a few more years. Both seemed to keep falling over and breaking thighs and other bones.
- One memory the museum brought back was a tale from my grandmother about the Belgian refugees, who were put up in Alexandra Palace after the First World War.
- I can also remember the Monday evening crowds swarming past my father’s printworks on Station Road to the racecourse. Someone used to setup a Crown and Anchor board to fleece punters before they even got to the races, outside the works on Station Road. If the police turned up he allowed them to duck inside, provided they put a couple of notes in the charity box my father had on the counter.
- I also saw the inside of a pub for the first time at about eight, when my father used to take me for lunch on Saturdays to the Jolly Anglers in Station Road, when we both worked in the works.
- When we were at school, we often drive to Ally Pally to have a drink, as no-one seemed to bother how old you were in the bar there. You would then take your drinks out and sit on the grass to admire one of the best views in London.
- In the museum was a display, which had some stationery from Ward’s Stores at Seven Sisters. In the early 1960s, I used to work in a paper shop, who delivered them to Mr. Ward. Rumours had it, that he was dying of something and was getting a bottle of Scotch a day on the NHS.
Next time I visit, I’ll have a serious look at the archives.
The Anonymous Widower 