I was born in London, but as I have previously mentioned in earlier blog posts the bad smog of 1952 caused severe health issues with my Mum which meant we moved to Whittlesey, near Peterborough. It also meant I arrived in this world just a few weeks earlier than was expected. I was less than a year old then, and my memories of life began there. My age was still in single figures when my Dad bought his first car, a 1937 Ford Eight, though some might call it a Model Y. Even now I can still recall walking down the road with him to the little garage with shiny black doors where our car was kept each night, sliding the garage door open and getting that delightful smell of petrol, oil and leather.
But that car, in time, had to be changed and Dad got a green Ford Popular. It wasn’t new, but it was fine for us and I still recall days out along the Wash road to friends in nearby Thorney. But a policeman that we knew there saw it and asked Dad about it, as this same policeman had just got a brand new car and the registration number of his new car wasn’t too far different from Dad’s Ford Popular. It seems Dad’s had been re-registered, for some reason. We think it had been in an accident and rebuilt. But it was fine. Then a few years later Dad saw a Ford Anglia, it was a really lovely turquoise blue with a bright white roof. This made it a deluxe model and it was a special, as it‘d had a bigger engine put in (technically, it was a 1340cc Consul Classic engine with a 3-bearing crankshaft) along with anti-roll bars on the back. Sadly the original owner’s son, who had wanted to use this special car for racing, had been killed in an accident so the owner sold the car.
Up to now my Dad had been used to a car with only three forward gears and this one had four, so getting it into reverse took some working out but we managed it! This car went well, but a while later the 1340cc engine needed replacing, so an exchange engine was organised. Ford did exchange engines, so Dad asked to have an Anglia Super, 1200cc engine fitted. But Ford only did exchange engine upgrades, which meant Dad had to have a 1500cc Cortina engine (with a 5-bearing crankshaft) fitted! This made it very much a GT version. It was really lovely, especially as one of my older brothers got to drive it. But after a while my Mum’s back was starting to become a bit painful due to a bad war injury, so Dad sold the Ford Anglia and got a green Austin 1100. Sadly that was a mistake and whilst we were on holiday down in North Devon this Austin 1100 needed a bit of repair. We were friendly with the local garage owner, who, like us, had been born in London so I and my Dad sold petrol etc there at the garage whilst the garage owner fixed the car. A few years later Dad retired from teaching and bought a brand new car, an Austin 1300. It was a really bright yellow colour and when we took ourselves down for a holiday in North Devon, we called in for petrol and the same garage owner took one look and burst out laughing, saying “Who spilt the mustard pot, then?”. We all had a laugh at that.
By now I was able to drive, so Dad let me take Mum shopping and to various places locally, then I was told of a Ford Anglia Super owned by a relative of my sister-in-law. This car needed a bit of work doing to it as the nearside front wing was quite rusty but we agreed a price and I brought it home. With the help of a neighbour I patched up the nearside wing whilst I saved up for a new wing. In truth it was pretty bad, it looked all right as it was held together with chicken wire – it wouldn’t have passed an M.O.T. test! Still, I got it repaired with a brand new wing and then had to carry on saving, as the offside front wing was now going rusty. Meanwhile I drove down to London to visit relatives, but driving round Hyde Park Corner I had a coming together with another car. The other driver didn’t stop, it was just a slight scrape but I was annoyed and showed the uncle I was visiting when I got to their house. He shrugged it off, saying “not to worry it happens all the time here”, but as you might expect the scrape was on the new wing! My uncle soon got a cloth and cleaned the scrape, all was well. A few years later I sold the car and bought an Austin 1100, but that needed too much work doing so after a while I scrapped that. A little later I was looking around the second-hand cars at a local Ford dealer and I saw a lovely Ford Capri 1600, right at the back of the rows of cars. I asked to see that one and perhaps test-drive it, but the salesman tried to sell me a similar one parked near the front of the others. He was almost too insistent that I try this other one but I stood my ground and after some work the car I wanted was out and did test it. I also got a friend who owned a garage to give that car a once-over, it was fine apart from a couple of minor things and so I bought that lovely Capri 1600.
That did me well for quite a while until sadly, after a long couple of weeks away working, I was only a mile or two away from home when I had an accident. My fault, I was tired and these things happen. The car was scrapped and so a short while later I went back to the Ford dealer to get another car. This same salesman was absolutely delighted to see me, as my old car had been seen and recognised in the scrapyard!
So I tested and bought a Ford Escort which was great. In the meantime I’d had promotion at work and could now afford to buy a house, which I did. My mother had needed bed rest in hospital prior to having a hip replacement and whilst visiting her I had met a nice young lady, in fact I probably spent more time seeing the young lady than I did my mother! I started dating the girl, she had a few difficulties as she was in a wheelchair and couldn’t walk but that wasn’t a problem to me. Sadly it wasn’t meant to be though, as she had other, mental issues which were beyond my help. In the meantime I had changed the Ford Escort for a Ford Fiesta – a bright yellow one – and I was managing. Then at work I was told that in the small print of the form I had signed, there was a clause which meant that I could be demoted within a certain time. That was unexpected, but even with help from the local Union I had to accept it. So I sold the Fiesta and bought a small motorcycle, as I was keeping the house. Later I sold the motorbike, which pleased my dear Mum! I learned some years afterwards that the family had been looking out for a car for me and so I bought a little Austin Mini, which was excellent. I drove that for many miles over the next few years!
As happens there were changes made at BT, with reorganisations which enabled me to get a transfer to Leicester because I was technically through a promotions board, awaiting a post. I started driving from Peterborough to Leicester every day, but that out a strain on me and the little car, which led to me meeting, chatting up and later marrying the lovely lady who I had met on the train. We divorced a few years later, but that is life. I bought a house in Leicester and sold the mini. It had done its job. Happily I was able to get a Fiat Panda which, with the help of my eldest brother, kept me on the road as I had now transferred from Leicester to Nottingham. I was living in a house not far from Chesterfield though, which again put a strain on me, my marriage and my car.
Further changes in BT led me to work in Sheffield, then down to Birmingham for a few years before returning to Sheffield. Yet more reorganisations meant I was in Manchester as a trainer for a while, before returning to… Leicester! Which is where I finished. I had in the meantime got the Fiat Panda sold, I’d had a Land Rover Series 3, then when my eldest brother retired due to ill health I bought his Land Rover Defender.
My return to Leicester culminated in me changing that for a Land Rover Discovery that had hardly been used and I did quite a few miles in that. It was to me the absolute best of all the cars I had ever had.
I had to finish my driving career though, as sadly ill-health stopped me driving. Still, I had been driving from 1970 to 2015 and it took a bit of getting used to, using public transport. But I was able to get a bus pass which also enabled me free train travel from Leicester to a few places, including Peterborough, which suited me nicely. I sold the Discovery to a local dealer who I believe may have kept it for himself, as it was in such good condition. I missed driving, but I had to accept that if I had an accident I could not just be putting myeline in danger, but others too. Knowing that meant I had absolutely no choice.
This week… a reminder.
Remember that success is a journey, not a destination.
We take care of our bodies to protect us.
We have family to teach us,
We have good friends to steer us,
We have good food to fuel us,
With breaks to maintain and service us.
Diary of a Care Home Inmate 