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Harringay, Haringey - So Good they Spelt it Twice!

My mother lived with her widowed mother at 18 Chesterfield Gardens, Harringay. Her father was a casualty of WW1 and died in 1917. My parents were married at St. Paul's Church, Burgoyne Road, on 26th August 1939, just a few days before Britain entered WW2. The ceremony was officiated by a young curate named Sidney Austen Williams who later became the vicar of St.Martin-in-the-fields. In 1961 he was appointed Chaplain to the Queen. (The Guardian obituary, 20th December 2001) 

Fig. 1:  Wedding reception invitation.

1940s

Following their marriage my parents moved to 145, Stapleton Hall Road, Stroud Green, the home that I was brought to in 1943, following my mother's evacuation to a maternity home in Leicestershire due to the intense bombing that London was experiencing at that time. My father was away serving on the battleship HMS Warspite. Sandra, my sister, was born at home in 1945. We were both baptised at the nearby Holy Trinity Church, Granville Road.

Fig. 2: 145, Stapleton Hall Road. (The house on the left).

Fig. 3:  Baptism card.

The earliest memory of which I can reasonably be sure is of my first day at school. After answering a few simple questions, put to me by the headmistress, my education began at Stroud Green School, Woodstock Road in Finsbury Park N4.

I estimate there were up to 40 pupils in the class and each of us was given a stick of chalk and a slate board to write on. Play-time was spent trying to avoid the boisterous games favoured by the older boys who towered above us. Many of the less fortunate lads wore shoes or boots without socks even in midwinter and it was apparent, even to a five-year old, that the area had its fair share of poverty.

The long walk between home and classroom eventually became a problem, not just for me but also for my mother. I had to be accompanied as the route necessitated crossing several main roads. After dropping me off she then had to rush off to work, at a company called Brasteds.

1950s 

I must have been about seven when I transferred to St. Aidan's School. It was situated in Albany Road just a few blocks from home. It was a smaller school, friendly and family orientated with most parents knowing each other and a healthy rapport with the teaching staff. The school was affiliated to the adjoining Holy Trinity Church and we were encouraged to join the congregation and the associated cub troop, both of which I did and both of which I enjoyed.

Fig. 4:  St. Aidan's School fancy dress party. Barrie, partly hidden left hand side at the back. The two youngsters in the front with large bows, Christopher Payne, on the left ,who lived in Albany Road and Billy Button.

Fig.5: 99th North London Cubs (Back L-R Barrie Maskell, not sure, Christopher Webb. Front L-R Colin Bell, John Brackley, Michael Geary).

145, Stapleton Hall Road, was a three storey house. Dad, Mum, Sandra and I lived in the ground floor flat, my maternal grandmother in the first floor flat and the top floor flat was shared by my Uncle, Aunt and their son John, my cousin, born in 1947. There were no individual entrance doors to the flats, we all shared the house as one big happy family.

Fig. 6:  Invitation: An example of the community spirit was when a group of parents organised a Coronation Party in 1953, for the children who lived in Stapleton Hall Road, Quernmore Road and Elyne Road.

Fig. 7:  Menu, Reverse side of Fig. 6.

Neighbours were friends, the road was our playground. Occasionally a car or cyclist would beep their horn or ring their bell, normally when I was about to score a goal or hit a six! Other inconsiderates were the horse drawn coal, bread or milk carts delivering essentials. A monthly visit by the 'rag and bone man,' was tolerated, since in exchange for a handful of mother's old clothes we would be rewarded with a single goldfish in a water filled plastic bag - life expectancy about two days!

Cyril, the window cleaner, with his bucket and ladder on bike, seemed to spend more time having cups of tea with mother and grandmother than he did polishing the glass, but that's how it was in those days, people took time to have a 'natter.'

Fig. 8:  'The Posse,' in the garden of 145, Stapleton Hall Road. (Barrie, the tall one, cousin John, the short one, Sandra and friend David. In the background are the houses on Quernmore Road.The fence belonged to number 147, which I trust was repaired before it was sold in 2022, for just under £2M).

Signs of WW2 were still evident in the early 1950s, with fenced-off bomb sites containing water-filled craters and the remains of buildings that were once houses or offices. Even more telling was the not unusual sight of the human cost of war - people with one ,or in many cases both legs, missing or somebody wearing the tell-tale dark glasses carrying a white stick. There were stark reminders in my home too. I remember my father and uncle removing the 'Anderson Shelter' from the garden and I recall the rolled-up blackout blinds above the windows in my bedroom and in our dimly-lit cellar the disconcerting appearance, high up on a shelf, of three skull like gas masks peering down from above.

My father, whenever he could, would take my sister and me out for the day - treats such as museums, Epping Forest, Trafalgar Square and the Festival of Britain 1951 at Battersea Park. I remember many events at Harringay Arena and Harringay Stadium - stock car racing, ice hockey, roller-derby, wrestling bouts, speedway (my favourites were Vic Duggan and Split Waterman), and the Billy Graham Crusade with the cowboy movie star Roy Rogers and his horse Trigger. We often enjoyed a stroll around Finsbury Park, it always seemed so quiet compared to the rest of the area - the model village, the boating lake with the ducks and swans taking shade under the willow trees. Occasionally, when a cycling club event took place around the park, the silence was broken by the sound of the cheering spectators watching the riders flash by on their drop-handled racing bikes, with brightly coloured club jerseys and numbers on their backs. On one occasion I asked my father why a park-keeper, with the customary brown cap and uniform, stood guarding the entrance to a white canvas tent. I don't think at my tender age I understood what a 'boxing booth' was! (An explainer for those of you who are similarly mystifed: For generations many of the nation's greatest boxers honed their skills in the boxing booth, its heyday being between the two world wars. Boxers would travel to the towns and the countryside with their own booths, normally consisting of a large tent with a painted stage at the front, where a showman would try to entice audiences at venues such as fairgrounds or carnivals to pay to watch the fights or even take part in! However, in 1947, the Boxing Board of Control banned licenced boxers from booth fighting resulting in a gradual decline in the sport. The booth I saw in the late 1950s was a simple white canvas tent without any outward indication of what was taking place inside. Further stringent regulations in the 1960s became so restrictive that by the mid 1970s boxing in booths had ceased altogether.)

Local Shops

Most communities had a cluster of local shops where daily needs could be met - no supermarkets then. Such an enclave existed where Quernmore Road gives way to Harringay Station (then Harringay West) footbridge.

On the right-hand top corner stood the red and white insignia of the United Dairy, a shop run by the larger than life Maud. I can still visualise her scrutinising mothers' ration coupons, slicing a wad of cheese with a steel wire cutter, and weighing it on a huge set of enamel scales before wrapping it in greaseproof paper and handing it over with a smile.

Next door was an ironmongers run by Roy Powell, who played in the same cricket team as my uncle, the North London C.C. Roy had the monopoly of paraffin sales in the area used by most families in the area, including ours, to fuel small oil heaters which supplemented the heat from a traditional coal fire.

Then there was Mr Gower, a rather stern-faced greengrocer. My only recollection of this shop are the bare floorboards which I believe I never trod on.

A clothes shop that sold  knitting wool which was then very popular and a bread shop completed the row.

On the opposite side of the road, starting from the bottom was a butcher's shop called Stevens and Steeds, which boasted  surgical-like cleanliness where men in long Persil-white coats could be seen through the large plate glass window preparing the hams, sausages and meats. I was interested to learn that as late as 2017 both this shop and Gower the grocer had retained their original signage on the exterior of the shop fronts. (ghostsigns.co.uk

Further up the road was Gibbs, a tobacconist. Mr Gibbs's belief in his product was evident by the permanent cigarette that drooped from his mouth ably supported by his assistant Doll, who, with her powdered face and black beauty spot, also smoked like a trooper. I would often visit the shop to buy bubble gum, horrible stuff but each pack contained cards with photos of footballers, which I collected with a passion.

Next door was the chemist, Mr Sims, he was probably one of the few people in Harringay that could decipher the hand-written prescriptions issued by our Dr McLaughlan, whose surgery was just off Wightman Road.

The last shop was an off-licence which my sister and I would visit most Saturday evenings to buy a bottle of Scidrex', a non-alcoholic cider which Mr Foster would be happy to serve to we children. Once the evening drink was purchased we would scuttle back home to snuggle up on the sofa with mum and dad in front of the coal fire and  listen to the radio. Invariably once we had settled down we would hear the familiar sound of the newspaper man shouting "Classified results! Classified results!" It was always a mystery to me how the Evening Standard could print and distribute their paper within hours of a football match ending, but they did and dad and I were grateful. We would settle down and wait for the other regular Saturday night occurrence. A knock on the door would signal the arrival of Mr Timlett, it always seemed to be raining when he called, water bouncing off his trilby hat  and onto his trench coat. He was there to collect dad's weekly insurance payment. I have no idea what it was for but everyone seemed to be insured for everything in those days.

On the top corner of the road was the library, with a librarian who was all that a librarian should be - corduroy trousers, tweed jacket, full beard and glasses. He would date stamp your books without looking away from the book he was reading. I don't think I ever saw his eyes!

Over the footbridge could be found a barber shop and a sweet shop. At the bottom of Cavendish Road, was Mr Gillam's dental surgery which I always entered with mixed feelings. The waiting room contained a nine-inch television set, the first I had ever seen. I was fascinated by it, but I dreaded  what normally followed. Once seated, a large rubber mask looking rather like a black sink plunger was strapped onto the upper face before the knockout gas was switched on, the hissing sound fading as unconsciousness set in. I have no idea how long it took to come round.

Turning right into Green Lanes there was a shop selling ladies fur coats with its owner who often sat outside cursing the warm weather! Further on was a sports shop owned by the Arsenal and Welsh football international, Walley Barnes. As a Spurs fan I had no interest in following my friends in getting his autograph.

Fig. 9: Walley Barnes outside his sports shop at 363, Green Lanes, Harringay.

Turning northwards, I have similar recollections to other HoL members of the grey haired Egg Lady's shop. Then, near to Ducketts Common was an electrical shop called Merrills and,on the opposite side of the road, a butcher's shop called Gunners. My mother's uncle, George Gamble, was the manager there. There was also a shop called Sumatras, selling expensive men's shoes and along West Green Road was the fascinating Swap Shop from which instead of buying things, you could actually trade-in your unwanted possessions for a beloved guitar or roller skates etc. Along Wood Green High Road was a store called Bon Marche and at Turnpike Lane a Wimpy and a pub called The Wellington which in future years would become a meeting place for me and my friends.

I have great memories of 'Silver's,' the men's outfitters, although I can't quite pinpoint the whereabouts in Green Lanes where it was situated. Entering the shop, we would be greeted by Mr Silver with his habitual "How much have you got to spend today boys?" We would joke that if you went in for a pair of socks you would come out with the 'Full Monty' This was a term used to describe a three piece suit, jacket, waistcoat and trousers, popularised by the men's tailors Montague Burton.

School

Ever concerned about their children's education, my parents decided to enrol my sister and I at South Harringay Junior School in nearby Mattison Road. It was larger than the schools nearer our home and had a good academic reputation, although it was the sporting activities that became my main interest. I played cricket for the school, took part in athletics and was appointed captain of the school football team.

Fig. 10:  Football team at South Harringay Junior School, 1954. Standing at the back, Mr Smith, Back row L to R:  Bernard Hembest, Alan Byford, Spencer Dye, John Mathews, Bruce Payne, David Bunce, Stephen Mortlemans. Front row L to R:  John Jury, Christopher Webb, Rhys Evans, Barrie Maskell, Martin Walsh, Roger Sampson, Victor Watkins.

Fig. 11:  The authour at Redstone Road Playing Fields. Alexandra Palace racecourse is in the background.

Fig. 12:  Certificate for Fig. 10.

Fig. 13:  c1954  Standing at rear, Mr Lewis, Back row, L to R : Roy Chidley, Bernard Hembest, Bruce Payne, not sure, Barry?, David Berry, Roger Brandon, Barrie Maskell, John Scott. Middle row L to R  Gloria King, Rita Stride, Valerie Bacon, Brian Johnson, Maurice Leggate, Victor Watkins, Roger Sampson, Stephen Mortlemans, Carol Norton, the Reed twins. Front row L to R:  Not sure, Joan Chapman, Carol Marsden, Wendy Evans, not sure, Ann Sutton, Stella Treble,  Annette ? Janet Singleton.

The transition from the junior school to North Harringay Senior School was relatively easy as most of the lads moved with me and many of the boys in the upper forms had previously been to South Harringay Junior School. However there were two main differences. Firstly, our new school was solely for boys, the girls, including my sister, were placed at a senior school whose building adjoined their former junior school. The second difference was the requirement for the boys to swap their short trousers for long ones. My involvement in sport continued. 

Fig. 14:  North Harringay Senior School football team at Newland Road Playing Field. Campsbourne. Back row, L to R:  Mr Bradfield, Tony Pardoe, Lawrence Taylor, Alan Drake, Keith Broadley, Barrie Maskell, Michael Holt, John Clift. Front row, L to R: Not sure, Not sure, John Wade, not sure.

The photographer should have taken the picture before the match, not after!

I recall the following teaching staff. Mr John Roberts headmaster, Mr Pritchard, Mr Tunbridge, Mr Sutton, Mr Powell, Mr Bradfield, Mr Wragg, Mr Williams and Mr Morgan. We were divided-up into houses - Norman, Tudor, Stuart, and Windsor. The standard of teaching I feel was good and by passing the Schools Certificate Examination in 1959, I managed to get a place at a college outside of the Harringay area although I still visited the school as I was a member of the Harringay Boys' Club that met there most Friday evenings. 

Harringay Boys' Club

Harringay Boys' Club was formed in 1958 and was initially located at North Harringay School. However under the inspirational leadership of Tom Ritchie, funds were raised to relocate to a purpose built clubhouse in Ribbersfield Road, Harringay N8. The new premises were officially opened on 23rd November 1961, and a few weeks later the club was honoured by a visit from the patron of the London Federation of Boys' Clubs, the Duke of Edinburgh. I remember the Duke taking a keen interest in the ongoing activities and after a tour of the premises he spoke to a small group of us recalling events of his recent visit to Australia and nearer home, how the Chelsea Flower Show was a firm favourite of his.

The club, with its first class facilities, football team and general meeting area was a great asset in my day and as I write from afar, I wonder if today's Harringay lads are as fortunate as we were.

Fig. 15:  Harringay Boys' Club football team in the gymnasium of North Harringay School c 1960. Back row, L to R: Not sure, Barry Conway, Michael Holt, Alan Drake, David Beecham, Not sure. Front row, L to R: Barrie Maskell, Eddie Plum, John Clift, David Clarke, ? Morgan.

Fig. 16:  Harringay Boys' Club invitation to the new club premises.

Fig. 17: Hornsey League Shield awarded to Barrie Maskell of the Harringay Boys Club, 1960-61.

Fig. 18:  Harringay Boys' Club Badge.

Fig. 19: Duke of Edinburgh at Harringay Boys' Club, in conversation with Arthur Becker, with Barrie Maskell looking on. 11th December 1962.

Fig: 20: Hornsey Journal front page, December 14, 1962, showing the Duke of Edinburgh's visit to the Harringay Boys Club.)With thanks to David Clarke. (click to enlarge).

Music in the 1960s  

Music always played a big part in youth culture and around the Harringay area we were blessed with some great venues. Wood Green Jazz Club at the Fishmongers was a popular place to be on a Tuesday and Saturday night. Many of the top groups played there and also at Manor House public house. My favourite was John Mayall whose band included Eric Clapton. George Melly was always good value, not very good vocally but a great entertainer. I also remember a singer called Eden Kane at the Hornsey Town Hall!

Opposite Wood Green tube station was a club called Harry Boults where one of the area's first discos was held.

In 1964, I was privileged to see two of the great bands, on 26th June, I saw the Rolling Stones at Alexandra Palace and on 1st November, I saw the Beatles at the Astoria Finsbury Park.

1970s

I met my future wife Christine in 1971 at Muswell Hill Squash Club, which was situated in the car park of a cinema at the very top of the hill. She was then teaching at Martins School, Muswell Hill and I was running my own modest development company. We married in 1972 and bought a house in South View Road, Hornsey for £6,000. We then moved to a house in Dashwood Road, which we purchased for £13,950. Christine was then teaching at Rokesly School, Crouch End. Our daughter was born in 1976 at City of London Hospital, Hanley Road. The following year, after living in and around Harringay for over 34 years I moved with my family to Mill Hill, north west London 8and in 1978 we bought a house in Carmarthenshire, west Wales,  where my wife comes from; that same year our son was born. We have now lived in that same house for over 46 years.

Carmarthenshire
3rd November 2024

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Replies to This Discussion

Your name is familiar, Barrie, in the way that sometimes the name of someone at your school sticks while other names are lost to the wind.  Perhaps it was your fame in sport!  I believe I was a year ahead of you at South Harringay Junior School.  By 1954, I had crossed the alleyway to Hornsey County, the girls' senior school.  The 'not sure' girl in Mr Lewis's class, front row, fifth from left, is Jean.  I can't remember her name as was but she is now Jean Abbot and lives in Ramsey, Essex.  She got in touch with me on the Friends Reunited website and we meet from time to time - or at least exchange Christmas cards.  Mr Lewis was the best of my teachers.

So we have many shared memories and there is much for me to ponder in your well-written memoir.  I am moving house this weekend - moving overseas in fact - but once settled I'll read through properly and see what names I can come up with.  I was baptised at St Paul's Harringay in early 1942, perhaps by the Revd. Austen Williams.  Anyway, my mother kept a photo of him for many years.  He did, as you say, become quite well known in later years at St Martin-in-the-Fields.  I didn't know, or had forgotten, that he was appointed Queen's Chaplain.  Fascinating and much of interest to come back to.  Thanks for this.

Good luck with your move Geraldine, I always enjoy reading your comments and observations. 

Thanks Lydia.  The move was smooth and I'm in Hong Kong now.  Catching up on this great post from Barrie Maskell.  I really enjoy reading your posts too!

Hi Geraldine, similarly I remember your name but alas little else. Jean Abbot also contacted me many years ago on the Friends United website but her maiden name escapes me and we have lost touch. Thank you for your kind words, the piece does now seem rather self indulgent but I guess that's what personal memoirs are all about!

I wish you every happines in your home.

Hi Barrie.  Not at least self-indulgent.  It's a great read and a memory-jogger for those of us at school with you.  One of the best I have read.  I am now back in Hong Kong with much to catch up on, but  I'll be re-reading it many times.  if only my memory were as good as yours!

Too kind, thank you.

Barry Maskell, well written story , I remember  you well from Warringah Boys Club ..,.........John Grover , Owen Sound , Ontario Canada 

Hi John, Good to hear from you again, keep in touch.

Wonderful, memories which took me back many years and made me homesick for a time and place long gone. I was born in 1955 but life was still very similar although most of the bomb sites around Harringay and Hornsey had been replaced; some by prefab dwellings. Like your photos, life was black and white, far more simplistic and less stressful. Community and family were paramount and time was in abundance-or maybe that's more a reflection of my age!

Thank you for sharing your memories and happy times - highly enjoyable to read. 

Hi Lydia, we visit London several times a year and stay in central London. However, your nostalgic reply convinces me that our next stay should be in real London, Harringay!

Thanks for this piece, Barry. I didn't grow up in the area, but i very much enjoyed the insights you offer, Thanks also for the insight into boxing booths. I'd never heard of them. They sound like something straight out of Dickens!

Thank you Hugh for guiding me through the intricacies of modern day technology. I will give you a rest before I submit part two!!

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