OPEN DAYS AT THE HOME

Once a year the Home held an open day for members of the public. Those living outside the Home were given the chance to come and see how the Home worked. Our friends from school also attended as many activities for children were laid on specially.

During the summer months, various sporting events were organised. Some of these were by the various schools in the area – the grounds at the NCH were thought of as neutral. To a few of us from the Home, the schools invading our Home were slightly resented. If our teachers attended, we were now meant to cheer for our school, rather than our flatmates who might go to other schools.

To our friends the Home seemed so wonderful. There was a play area with climbing equipment, there were smooth roads and paths to cycle and roller-skate on, a football pitch, woods and a host of other interesting areas. All of us tried to explain it might seem a wonderful place for one day, but live here for years on end and it might be thought of in a different way. For us it was life in an open prison; there was nothing physically stopping us from leaving the grounds, except for the knowledge of the punishment we would receive when caught.

Our friends from school had arrived, and were happily playing on the equipment. A few of us from the Home had some far more important matters. If it was dry and hot there were always plenty of drinks purchased from the refreshment stand. Our targets were adults who had purchased small bottles of pop. Few realised that they had paid a small deposit on the bottle. If we saw they had finished their drink and had some litter around, we simply went up and asked if we could clear up for them. Possibly thinking this was some form of chore the Home had set for us, they happily allowed us to retrieve the empty bottle and other items. If you had courage and were polite, the Open Day could be very lucrative.

At the end of the day when the visitors had left, if we were near to the refreshment area, we might be allowed to finish the remains of the cake without having to pay. Often this treat had been after our own tea, so there was an actual limit to the amount of cake we could eat. When we had finished the nice soft parts of the sponge cake, the hard-burnt edges became something to throw at each other once we were out of the Sister’s view. The birds would soon finish any bits that fell on the ground.

On one of the Open Days, my mother and cousin had decided to come up. On this occasion I did not have to resort to collecting bottles, but had treats almost forced upon me. Several of the flats were open to visitors for tea, and this brought in extra funds to the Home. Those of us who lived in the houses that were serving teas were not welcome back whilst the teas were in progress. Our teas were known as ‘bag teas’; these consisted of a brown paper bag containing sandwiches, a biscuit and a piece of fruit. At some point we were to return, collect our tea and make ourselves scarce until it was time to come in at the end of the day.

It had been fun spending the afternoon with my mother and cousin; I should have returned to collect my tea. My mother decided that the pair of them would have tea in one of the flats and to save me running off I might as well join them. To have tea it was necessary to purchase a ticket at a single location. At that point you would be allocated the flat to visit. This system made it easy to regulate the numbers of visitors going into any single house. There was no actual choice of flat; I was dreading our tickets being made out for my flat. Although my mother and cousin were paying for my tea, what Sister would say on my arrival for this proper tea I dared not think. Thankfully, we were allocated another flat for tea. The tea was very nicely presented for the guests to admire; possibly visiting adults thought our meals were always this nice. To me there was the pleasure of squash to drink with my meal rather than a mug of tea.

Finally, it was time for my mother and cousin to leave. Saying my farewells after a day of fun was in my mind far worse than when my mother normally left after a visit. I was unhappy but I did not show it at the point they left.

Eventually I returned to the flat. Instantly I was in trouble from Sister. She was cross that I had not returned to collect my bagged tea. I tried to explain that my mother and cousin had visited and I had been taken out to tea in one of the other flats. At this point, I was made to sit at the table and eat my bagged tea. With it being a little while since my full tea, I managed to get through it after showing my feelings. I did not bother with any supper a little later when it was time for bed, which for me came quite early. It was so easy to have a pleasant day ruined.

If Sister wanted to keep me out of mischief, sending me to bed was an easy option. Our bedtimes were earlier than many of our friends that we met at school. During the summer, having to lie in bed awake, whilst there was still plenty of daylight outside was boring. On the evenings that I was sent even earlier, living at the Home became really unbearable.

One event that was organised to raise funds on the Open Day was to belt the living daylights out of an old car. This was aimed more at the men. Some of the older boys might have liked to have a go, but actually paying to use a sledgehammer was not worth the money. During the day, the old car was reduced from a car that was too worn out for the road to something that had dents in every part imaginable and not one piece of glass remaining intact.

Once the Open Day was over, the car remained where it was first put; it was out of the way on a piece of waste ground. Eventually the groundsmen would take it away to the far side of the woods, where a small dip in the ground seemed to be the location for all manner of rubbish that could not be burnt.

To children an old car was a plaything. Soon the more careful ones had swept out the car of its broken glass. With the car sheltered by overhanging trees, it remained dry. At some point, it became my climbing frame. I did not indulge in sitting in the driver’s seat pretending to drive. I climbed up from the inside and sat on the partly open metal sunroof. I was quite light and the thin metal roof could quite easily hold my weight. With the various men pounding the car the sunroof appeared to have become jammed in this partly open state, allowing a small thin child just enough room to crawl up through.

The roof decided to slide back into the fully open position. I fell forward; my mouth now took the full force of the top front rim of the car. This was a part of the car that was still undamaged; my mouth also had little effect on the car. The blood from my mouth and nose covered the top of the car, the seat, the front shelf and even the bonnet. As well as my regular nosebleed, I had managed to cut both my upper and lower lips and taken a good sock to my teeth. For many friends of my own age, this would have merely loosened their remaining first teeth. I was well ahead of them, my second teeth had appeared quite some time ago, and taken together with my height, it could give me the chance to appear older than I really was.

Some friends escorted me back to the flat. Sister was perhaps a little sick of my continual injuries. If my friends expected to see Sister concerned over my injuries and to be sympathetic, they saw her at her best. I was quickly whisked inside. Apparently, the telling off could be heard through the closed door and even when they had reached the ground outside the flat.

My face really ached, after swilling my mouth out with several glasses of water and mild disinfectant. Sister decided that a good sleep with a hot water bottle next to my face might take the pain away. The next day, there was a slight telling off for the blood on my pillow and sheets, but her mood compared to the day before was mild. I did not appear to have broken either my nose or my chin. In her mind, I was fit enough for school. Friends from yesterday eventually caught up with me; other than finding out if I had managed to break any bones, the amount of blood I seemed to drip around had given them the impression that I was very badly injured. Most were surprised at how Sister had reacted. All I could do was explain that this was how Sister normally acted; that I was returning too often with injuries might have been the true reason. Had a different member of our group had similar injuries, they might have been treated in a more sympathetic manner.

Once everything healed up, there was little to see any sign of me trying to chew through a car. My chin never did fully develop, and my front teeth remained pushed slightly back, but not eating my crusts at an early age might be another cause.

The Home was a relatively safe place for children. If we followed the rules, and did not sneak out of the grounds, there was little chance of any road accidents. A slow speed limit was set for vehicles travelling around the grounds. With very few cars around, there was little chance of injury.

Tree climbing was not really forbidden. If you were out of sight in the woods, there were few adults to make any comment. Cuts, bruises and a few broken bones did occur at odd times, but as children went, we were possibly less likely to be injured whilst in the grounds of the Home. For those that were taken to school and back by coach, they were the most likely to be injured in the road when outside the Home, due to having little experience of road traffic. The majority of us had the same chance as ordinary children on our way to and from school. Older children supervised the younger ones, so all were normally safe. From the age of eight most of us were thought to be wise enough to walk to school without any supervision.

Other than playground injuries, all my injuries were in the grounds of the Home. Branches had a habit of digging into me, concrete and tarmac paths met most parts of my body on regular occasions. Minor scratches and the like I normally paid little attention to until it was time to go inside. With more serious injuries excluding nose bleeds, I would head back to the flat well before the time to go in, so that Sister could decide if it was a simple wash of the cut or to be sent over to the Nursing Sister for a little more work.

Not all my injuries were my own fault. Some of the older boys seemed to have a death wish for the rest of us, and it was thought fun to lay traps for the unwary. In the woods various pits were dug and covered over with sticks. Never deep, they could have caused a broken or sprained ankle if encountered at speed.

Most of these I recognised before any accident occurred. A rope tied to a tree branch was to me irresistible, I soon learnt it was wise to really tug the rope to see if it was securely tied or just lightly fastened, so that once you were part way up you fell.

Running down a path on a slope, I encountered what I took to be bushes with a small gap to get through. It was only when I reached them and due to the speed, it was impossible to stop, I found odd pieces of barbed wire were mixed in with the bushes and across the gap.

My knees and the surrounding skin took the full force. The pain was fierce, and some of the cuts were deep. There were several long scratches and open cuts. I limped back crying to the main part of the Home; it was easier to go directly to the Nursing Sister as the small hospital was on the ground floor. I did not feel like climbing the steps to our flat and then being sent down again a few minutes later.

The Nursing Sister thought the injuries looked horrific. It took some time to clean each cut. Soon into the cleaning session it was decided to stand me in the shower and spray warm water onto my knees in an effort to remove the dried-on blood and to see exactly how many cuts I actually had. Finally, I was returned to my flat with several soft bandages around my legs and knees. Once Sister saw them I was confined during my free time to the flat for several days. I was however fit enough for the walk to and from school. Bandages finally off, I was released to go on my active play again. Around this time I started visiting the Nursing Sister for regular tetanus and booster shots.

  During the summer months our free time could become a little boring. When one of my friends found a wasp’s nest that was buried into the ground, it was something that needed more investigating. I knew that a wasp could sting, but as yet, none had ever bothered me. It was only a short time after prodding the underground nest with a stick, that one took its revenge. When I had recovered from the sting and my tears, I decided that the nest needed a little more action; once it was flooded, there were no more problems from that nest again. I left them alone from that point onwards. Any wasp that dared settle anywhere near me from that moment on, had little future.