All through my childhood the letterbox on the corner of Camp Street and Grecian Street witnessed my comings and goings to St. Boniface’s School. It had withstood all the bombs of war time and protected its contents. Letters to loved ones on the war fronts were posted in it by all who cared, including my mother.
From the time of Edward VII it has witnessed the changing face of Lower Broughton. Now, 100 years on, only The Carlton public house remains alongside this historic letterbox. If developments remove this last identifiable, solid reminder of the continuity of our roots how many of us can stand on Camp Street and say: ‘This place has history. This was my birthplace.’ Joseph McGarraghy
21/6/06 (Originally written for the Salford Star but not used.) I have posted a picture of this letterbox with the 'Salford' photos.
I was born in a large house in Lower Broughton, Salford, Lancashire. My father let other rooms of the house and John Fitzpatrick lived in one of those rooms. I believe 'Fitz' had worked on the building of banks in King St, Manchester, and on the now demolished Agecroft Power Station Cooling Towers.
I was born just before the Second World War and started school before it had finished. When Dad was 'called up' it was good to have 'Fitz' around because I could go up to his room and call him if my Mam was unwell.
His hobby was clock repairing and, apart from the wall where his bed stood and the fireplace, there were tables all around the room, full of clock parts. On the table in the middle of the room were more containers, full of all kinds of clock related bits and pieces. With just enough room at the end for the bread larder(bread safe?). His room always seemed to have the smell of bread and butter, because he melted his butter in front of the coal fire.
After the War it was time for 'Fitz' to 'go back home' and I remember that sad day when Dad took him to the boat. So far as I remember, they got on the tram outside our house and I didn't know what to do. I knew that I would never see 'Fitz' again. He had gone home to his sister(s?), in Co. Fermanagh, to die.
He had left behind many of his clock parts and for many years his pendulum clock has hung on the wall of family homes, with his picture swinging to and fro.
Bless you 'Fitz'. (Originally written for Irish Chat.)
As a secondhand books dealer, in Manchester, a few years ago I had an interesting experience.
One lunch time a young woman came into the shop and I discovered that she was from Cork. When she heard my name she told me of people in Cork called McGarraghy. As she talked I realised that she was speaking of my cousin Mary B. and her mother my aunt 'Kitty'.
As a child she remembered my cousin Mary B. baby-sitting her. She also told me that my aunt 'Kitty' had gone into an old folks home in that area, where this young woman's mother had been a member of staff.
She also said that my aunt and cousin had lived in a hut on the edge of a cliff in that area, in earlier years, which had since vanished.
I was informed that they are both buried at Crosshaven. ...
She then went back to her office.
(Originally written for Irish Chat.)
Last night I attended an important event at Manchester Town Hall. There I listened to voices of peace, Israeli and Palestinian, pleading for ordinary people to understand that they are asking all of us to do whatever we can to end the conflict of their peoples. They, meanwhile, are giving themselves to spread the word of reconciliation. Robi Damelin lost her son David in 2002; he was killed by a sniper. Ali Abu Awwad lost his brother Yousef in 2000 at one of the Check Points in Beith Ommar. They are working together for bereaved families supporting peace, reconciliation and tolerance. They made it quite clear to us all that it is only by people getting to know each other and understanding the value of all lives that we can end killing and hate. Politics, governments and leaders have failed to consider the human heart in every soldier. The killing will go on and on until the ordinary people, from both sides, respect the other. When Robi’s son was killed she wrote to the family of the sniper who killed him. That letter has lead to this positive action. Israel Information Centre tells us that this meeting was ‘endorsed by both Church and Muslim leaders in this region to encourage people of all faiths to come together to hear these two representatives in the hope that they may influence and have an impact on public opinion. We are all searching to find a peaceful solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.’ As I shook the hands of Robi and Ali it was a connection I had not expected, the hands of three Abrahamic faiths joined together at one time. I hope their efforts will join us all together.
SIR Paul McCartney has give pleasure to generations of people and can now afford to buy whatever he could wish for, or so it would seem.
Being a Northerner, he has a warm heart and loving nature. His marriage to Linda made heaven-on-earth but her death took away his joy. Like many men, he knows the pain of loss and hurt.
In this material world we are all at the mercy of a society with no commitment, where marriage becomes meaningless because husbands can no longer ‘husband’ and a ‘wife’ is more of a liability than a benefit. In such a society children become ‘piggy in the middle,’ confused and with no idea of family life. Without such experience it must be difficult for many of today’s young people to understand how Sir Paul must be feeling at this moment.
Paul tells us that the “spirit” of his first wife, Linda, is contained in his new album. The words he uses to explain this have the simplicity of life itself: “When I came around to thinking ‘what do I want the words to say?’ I just wrote down a whole load of things that interest me about truth, about love, about honesty and about kindness. Stuff that I thought was important in life.”
The ‘spirit’ speaks through Paul.
'LABOUR needs to be more in touch with the ordinary daily lives of women if they are to keep them from defecting to the Conservative party, the Minister for Women has been told. Bolton West MP Ruth Kelly was also advised that women despised political `point-scoring' and were less likely than men to discuss or be interested in politics. The comments were made by a leading practitioner of opinion-based research and consultation at a meeting at the Labour Party Manchester conference.
Deborah Mattison, who was among speakers at the event held to discuss whether Labour has lost touch with women, said the solution was to change the language that politics was constructed in.
She said: "Women tend to relate to politics through issues that affect their daily lives and those of their families, not the abstract concepts that dominate political speech.
"Women tend to be more concerned about issues such as healthcare, schooling, family finances and pensions." ...'
Why, when certain women ask for equality, do they need to change all the rules? There must be many women who, like men, object to being lumped together as one type. Some women are getting on with working for their living, be it paid or family management. ‘Professional women’ should be capable of working under the same conditions as men.
At this moment I am thinking of a woman I have know for some years. She is married and has a family and works very hard at her job each day. Over the years her ability to get the job done well has meant that she became a very important member of the staff. Her original employment was as a cleaner, she is still very good at that too, but she is much more to all who appreciate her. She knows that her skills are her gifts. There are many more women, and men, like her.
*Quote from: M/cr Evening News
From one of your admirers that no longer lives in England - I would like Dogwalker to know just how much I appreciate the time and the excellence of the pictures he posts, especially the ones of Lower Broughton Salford area, where I grew up. The changes and the scenes he brings to life, have brought so many memories back - things that were in my memory from way, way back, on some of there pictures, especially the ones showing the fogs that were in abundance in the 40's and 50's - you can almost smell the polluted air, but also you can recapture memories of days gone by - when I was a teenager, no one noticed the rain or the fog - when you are 16 everything is rosy. The pictures of the parades, the flowers, the animals, the birds, but especially the changes of the landscapes that seemed at first, so alien to me, like the death of Broughton Modern School, the homes between Duke Street and the River Irwell, turning from rubble into promised new estates, this is progress - nothing stays the same but, Dogwalker recaptures the old with the new. I thank you Dogwalker for all the time and effort you bring to us - actually thank you seems inadequate for all the enjoyment I have had through your pictures. Newbee on the Friends Reunited site, Dorothy Thanks Dorothy, you are very kind. Many of the pictures you mention were posted on a forum for which I have done a lot of work. Sadly, because of difficulties, I have asked for all my posts to be removed from that site. The difficulty being that I insist on freedom of speech.
31 August 2006 Councillor Tim Pickstone Bury
Dear Councillor Tim Pickstone,
For many years I, as a pedestrian, have had to deal with all kinds of nastiness from drivers of vehicles who have no consideration for the most important freedom of the majority of citizens. That is to walk freely along our footpaths. The pedestrians of all ages and conditions need to be protected from the dirt, fumes and danger of motor vehicles, as far as possible.
I will attach a recent letter, from S. Blanchard our Principal Engineer – Traffic Network, which explains the stupid situation that allows these people to get away with their selfishness most of the time. This must be changed. We need Pavement Wardens to clear our pavements of obstructions and illegal driving on them.
Another example of this selfishness can be seen on Heys Road at the end of the school day, cars parked in the middle of the pavement.
On Monday I attended The Amber Project, in Salford. This was in memory of Amber Lok, age 13, who was hit by a car and died, the intention being to bring back Play Streets for the safety of children and to discourage speeding and other reckless driving.
The least we can do is to make our pavements safe for those who walk of necessity, for pleasure or because they are concerned for our environment. A walk should not be an obstacle course. I hope you will raise this matter with the appropriate committee. Thank you, Joseph McGarraghy
| Tue August 22, 2006 3:07 PM | | 
Hello Joseph,
all photos are really beautiful and I would like to present you my compliments because you are an excellent photographer. Here the photos that hit my fantasy:
Manchester,
- Veteran's day 2006 (the first photo): among the many others I love the one showing the Veteran and the Nurse....where he is tenderly touching her cheek with his right hand and she is looking at him with dreaming eyes; lovely....what can I do? I am an incurable romantic old lady..........lol.............
- Cambridgeshire : seventh photo from the start of the list - track trains, background of snowed landscape with a pale sun breaking the clouds........in backlight the shape of man, leaning on a pillar, hands in his pocket, and (brilliant) the shadow of the shape on the ground. He is awaiting for someone, patiently with the certainty that she will arrive........or he lost the train and he is awaiting the next?.........(putting aside the romanticism).
- Manchester from my colourslides: the first with two benches (I adore benches). Resting on a bench an old man is reading: all around him, coloured flowers.
- railways odds and ends - tunnel of love................so cute!
- Norfolk Sandringham : the wooden sculpture of a woman lying on a big nog, her fluent hair gathered up on her head. I don't know who this photo represents but it is full of despair......I don't think she is peacefully dreaming (?)
In the end, all the photos are exceptional and I will find time to look at them later.
Ciao, ciao and have a "good click".
Ginevra |
Thanks for that Ginevra, I have posted it here because others may find your comments helpful.
On a visit to Oldham, yesterday, I took the opportunity to take photographs of interesting items. My visit was a pleasure until a security chap in the Spindles development told me to put my camera away.
This is the Town Centre but I was told that it is private property. I pointed out that citizens and tourists had a right of way in the town centre. It would seem that these developers think that, having been given permission by the rate payers of Oldham to create a covered shopping precinct, they are free to limit the creative activities of citizens and tourists.
I believe there are plans to extend this development. Don’t let it happen, encourage real local businesses to trade on real streets. Don’t sell your town to a dictatorship.
I would be interested to hear the views of others as I am in the process of questioning such arbitrary restrictions.
Richard Valery died at the age of 98, in the spring of 2005. His body was left to science and was recently released for cremation. Having been connected with the Religious Society of Friends for many years he had requested a Quaker funeral. As F/friends, including the owners of his local corner shop, and relatives gathered in the quiet of Altrincham Crematorium, Dunham Massey, we reflected on the life of a very good man.
Richard grew up in a farmhouse in Cheetham, Manchester, where he attended the local Collegiate School, Cheetham Hill. He had had piano lessons in those early days.
We were friends over the last twenty years of his life and on my social visits to his home, back in Cheetham, he would talk about his life of adventure.
As a musician he would be available for casual work. Perhaps one day at a Liverpool Picture House playing music for the silent films. He also talked of playing on the White Star Line boats between New York and Cuba. Then there was his local Dance Band. I must find his booklet The Manchester Waltz, when I come across it, among all my books, I will scan and add it to Richard’s picture, for which I will open a new Photo File.
At one time Richard’s band did a lot of broadcasts on the BBC Home Service from Manchester. As a child he had lived through the First World War and when War came again he felt the need to play his part, particularly after seeing all those Jewish children who were fleeing the dangers of Continental Europe.
Later Richard was asked to arrange the music for a post-war tour by Gracie Fields. He was then told that part of the contract was for him to conduct it, which he did. Among the Gracie Fields ephemera, exhibited in Rochdale, you will see Richard’s name several times. In his later years I took him a catalogue of the exhibition and Gracie’s official biography in which he is mentioned. He looked, with his dimming eyesight, and said: ‘Is that me?’ Times had moved on but Richard, who was born 100 years ago, was a treasure trove of the history of the world of music. I am thankful to have known him.
Fri July 28, 2006 11:13 PM |
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Hello Joseph
Thank you for posting details of your website. You have so many interesting articles on your web blog and so many interesting photographs.I had a look briefly yesterday, and again today but it will take me quite a time to read all, so I'll return later with furter comments. In the meanwhile, I hope you enjoy the Age Concern forum 
FID
Many thanks to you and others for your encouraging replys.
I will post the interesting ones of general interest on my weblog. |
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Many of the drivers of chariots in our society seem to have lost touch with civilisation. They are not satisfied with taking up more road space than pedestrians; they also have little understanding of the reason for pavements.
Last Monday evening, after a long and hot train journey from Norfolk, I turned into my road and, yet again, found the pavement blocked, with a commercial van. While taking photos of this obstruction, for my records, a certain type of man appeared at a door and said, ‘Don’t waste your time!’ I spoke of the illegally parked vehicle and he replied, ‘I don’t give a ….!’ All chance of civil discussion was removed when the usual language of physical threats from this type of person started to flow.
On Tuesday I walked up the road to the location above. As I stood on the pavement a young couple drove onto the footway in front of me, no room for pedestrians. I pointed this out and the reply was, ‘It’s her Dad’s house’! They ignored me.
All this is antisocial behaviour. One day you will be a pedestrian, only then will you understand how selfish you have been. Or perhaps not….
Dear C….,
You asked for my ‘reactions’ to the interview published in The Guardian 16 June ’06.
1. The writer, Jackie Ashley, had editorial advantage and has peppered her piece with patronising remarks, for the titillation of Guardian readers.
2. Melanie is speaking certain truths to power. That is not to say that I agree with all that she says. Her words are open to question but her original focus is understood by many who live with the reality of an overlay of what seems to be occupation by stealth. Only today, we hear of local authorities being unable to cope because of lack of Government funding to deal with the pressure on local services. A man that I admire for his views, Frank Field MP, has spoken about the dangers of voters turning to the BNP simply to have their voices heard.
3. When Melanie wrote for The Guardian she must have been respected for her views. As a thinking person, she should still be respected. The fact that the Daily Mail permits its writers to speak out with views that are hard to understand, with blinkered eyes and cloth ears, does not make them any less valuable than yards of ‘politically correct’ Guardian Speak.. Every newspaper has its readership because of its slant; The Guardian no less so than the Daily Mail, The Guardian being popular with teachers because it advertises teaching jobs. The Manchester Guardian was a fine liberal paper but since it moved to London, and became The Guardian, it seems to have forgotten its Northern Roots. The Daily Mail is read by intelligent people who need to read the writings of outspoken journalists who give them information and views on matters that interest them, as do Guardian readers. Melanie is free to put the other point of view and she is in a better position to do so than many.
4. Simple experiential facts presented to the wrong audience are like a rag to a bull. The colour matters not, the rag is the problem. They anger the smug and satisfied, opinionated individuals who believe that they know everything. Give them a straw to deride your point of view and they will snatch it with pleasure.
5. Thinking people are free to change their minds, bigots will not. Melanie is looking for truth; she is willing to give her point of view at various stages on her journey. If we are seekers after truth we should consider her views along side our experiential values.
Joseph
http://books.guardian.co.uk/departments/politicsphilosophyandsociety/story/0,,1798994,00.html
Posted by dogwalker at
11:50 pm on the 28th June, 2006
A beautiful sunny, Saturday morning; June 15th 1996. I should have been at my bookshop in time to open at 10am but was late leaving home. The tram would normally take me to St Peter’s Square but that day it was prevented from entering the city beyond Victoria Railway Station. I made my way, behind the cathedral, to Hanging Ditch where I found tapes had been placed across the road. A fireman said: “Sorry sir, there’s an incident“. So I continued on through the Old Shambles and met lots of cheerful Marks & Spencer staff enjoying a good chat as they escaped into the sunshine. The time was about 10.10 am. Little was I to know how close I was to the largest peacetime bomb on mainland Britain.
Soon after I had opened The Little Bookshop a customer arrived to collect books about Czechoslovakia. His daughter was shopping in the city-centre while he came for the books. My shop was in the basement of Friends Meeting House, behind the Central Library. At about 11.15am, as my customer and I chatted, we heard a distant thud. Going to the end of Central Street we could see crowds running through Albert Square towards us. I was a reminded of Peterloo, people scattering in fear. Beyond the crowd could be seen a huge dark cloud and one could only expect death and injury on a large scale at the epicentre. The police helicopter, broadcasting overhead, requested: “ Clear the city centre!”
My last sale was at 12.35, an Ed McBain novel, and I started to pack things away. By one o’clock I had set off for home, walking in the direction of Salford. The atmosphere was surreal. Beautiful weather, football fans roaming the streets in their various supporters’ colours, very long queues of people at telephone boxes waiting to contact their families. Eventually, I crossed Victoria Bridge, Lower Broughton, and spotted a bus that would take me nearer home.
As Clerk of the Quaker Meeting, at that time, I had to be back at the Meeting House the next day. Apart from the fact that I had my duties to perform, I was the keeper of the keys to the building at that time and needed to be there to open up the building. Sunday morning I caught a bus to the Strangeways Prison and walked into town by way of Greengate. The Meeting House seats were coated in dust from the blast, this reminded us all of the previous day’s events. Our thoughts were with the victims and our thanks for the goodness that had seen them through without loss of life.
On the following Monday I caught the tram to open up the shop again. There was only a city in silence. As the tram reached Victoria Station it was announced : “This station is closed”. Looking up, tattered curtains could be seen flapping in the wind through the glassless windows of the Arndale Tower. On to High Street tram platform: “This station is closed”. Lewis’s window display was scattered on the pavement, with broken windows all around. Then Mosley Street tram platform: “This station is closed.” St Peter’s Square was the first station stop. So, back to work in a dead city. Eventually, a family walked in, smiled and said with great delight: “At last, a real shop!” They made my day.
At a recent gathering for people wishing to know more about the Religious Society of Friends a woman speaker explained: "Quakers do it slowly...." This brought smiles to a few faces. She had not intended such an interpretation. The usual saying is: "Quakers do it in minutes."
Again, at a Quaker Business Meeting, yesterday, we were dealing with the suggestion that the spreading of ashes be agreed for our meeting houses gardens, not limited to our burial grounds. One Friend asked if this would be an overdose of bonemeal for the plants?
Child Support Agency to be scrapped By Rosemary Bennett
A new slimline operation will enforce maintenance payments on absent parents only as a last resort
THE Child Support Agency will be scrapped this summer and replaced with a pared-down operation to collect cash from the most hardened absent fathers who refuse to pay maintenance. ...
Hundreds of thousands of mothers on benefits are automatically registered with the CSA when their relationship breaks up, even if they have reached an agreement on maintenance with the former partner. They account for about 67 per cent of the agency’s casework.
Although maintenance payments will still be deducted from benefits under the new child support system, ministers will try to keep these cases away from the new agency unless there is a default. ...
Half of all mothers who apply to the CSA have no contact with the father of their children. In one in five cases, the mother and father have never lived together, and in 15 per cent of cases, the father is also being chased by other mothers through the agency.
However, Mr Hutton has said that too many absent fathers still think that their financial responsibilities end when the relationship with the children’s mother breaks up. Frank Field, a former welfare reform minister, said that he would welcome any move to keep warring parents away from the agency.
“I’m 100 per cent behind that. Most people are grown up and accept their responsibilities, and the CSA wastes its time chasing them,” he said.
“The power of the State should only be used against people who fail to meet minimum requirements of good parenting.”
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/article/0,,2-2205625,00.htmlI usually agree with Frank Field's insights.
As a young boy in Lower Broughton, I was familiar with the gang mentality of many of the youths around.
The school playground could be a dangerous place. Quiet individuals could be the target of the playground bullies.
There was no pity; boys were told to be ‘men’. Crying was for girls and ‘men’ had to be tough. Men fought in war and needed to be tough, while ‘women’ would be at home with the children. What they did not take into account was the fact that there is that of the feminine in every man and of the masculine in every woman.
Sometimes, even the walk to school could be dangerous. There have been times when stones were thrown at me because I was on my way to the local school, St. Boniface’s. In the playground, as in the World at large, there were kind and gentle young people, always friendly and understanding. Then, as now, such people gave more than they took. Anything they took was returned many times over, by their kindness.
Often in life we meet such people and they are the Hands of Good, the living angels. Knowing that the World is populated by many good people helps us to deal with those who are still living in the playground gangs, though their years should have taught them better: Still selfish, having no consideration for law and order. Still cunning, they will argue about anything to whitewash the truth. Still cheats, who blame society for their own wrong doings.
Social engineering has a lot to account for. As family life is broken down and schools have too few pupils, we must be thankful for those hard working families who get on with life, as ever, in spite of it all. At least, hopefully, their children will be able to understand ‘family life’ and all that it means.
It is a sad society that encourages the break up of families by undermining the very structure of partnerships with enticements of rich pickings from divorce or benefit traps. The Government has become the surrogate father of many children and the consequences are all around us. Take away a father’s rights and you take away his responsibilities. Hardly surprising that so many people remain single these days. Otherwise they could end up selling the ‘Big Issue’.
As a lawyer customer of mine said: ‘Divorce is very efficient, but not fair.’
Last week I spent a few days of Spring weather in Norfolk, watching nature respond to the warmth of sunshine and refreshing rain.
As I left home for the railway station on Wednesday 10th May, coat over my arm, I was not to know that the best was yet to come. ::::
Next day, as` I sat in the old farmhouse garden I had time to reflect on life. I wrote the following: Yesterday, a beautiful Spring day, I caught the train to Norfolk, from the North West of England to East Anglia in the South East. Passing through the beauty of the Pennine Hills in the Vale of Edale and, a few hours later, reaching the wide open spaces and big skies of this rump of England. To spend a few glorious days of Spring in the quiet of a country garden, with only the sounds of bird song (and the occasional fighter jet screaming overhead) is to have time to consider reality. We are each a jigsaw piece in the picture of creation and only by listening to each other, spending peaceful times with each other, can we value ourselves and others. New growth is all around us at this time of the year, in spite of human mistakes, and we were each once a part of that new growth, at our conception and birth. If our experience of life has not taught us to be thankful for all who care for us, in so many ways, then we do not recognise the goodness that comes through the hands of others. We are the Hands of God (whatever we believe 'God' to mean) and are born with freedom of choice: to follow the path of 'goodness' or the path of 'evil'. Everything we do can make this world a 'Heaven' or 'Hell'. The fighter pilot overhead is training to 'protect' us but peace will not come with the killing of others. Only when every community can communicate its problems and worries to friendly neighbours can we hope to have World Peace. Only by respecting all human life and the natural world can we consider ourselves to be civilised human beings. I hope that we, of the British Isles, will make sure that our own country is respected both culturally and naturally. We cannot help the World on the one hand and neglect our part of the World on the other. ::::::::
Written next morning: This cloudless bright Spring morning, all around the birds in song. Bright daisies in the grass give cheer, as butterflies flutter along. The sun brings warmth to old brick barns, with tall cow parsley all around. These peaceful times have music, as drifting through the air is nature's sound. No nearer to Heaven will I be, if in this life I fail to see, that all around are beautiful things, to cheer the likes of you and me. ::::
As I sat in the garden last night, at dusk, bats were flying over my head, as if to say 'hello' ....
About fifty years ago ...
... my imagination was fired when I visited an exhibition at the City Hall, in Manchester, now the Museum of Science and Industry. How exciting it was to see all the best of wireless/radio development under one roof. A studio had been built in the Hall, with a large glass wall between the exhibition visitors and the studio activity. Wilfred Pickles could be seen bossing people about while his famous show was being recorded/broadcast. Mabel was sitting there too, waiting to "Give 'em the money."
I collected all the leaflets that I could find to give me all the information available on the most recent ideas for wireless. The most unforgettable memory of that exibition, for me, was the 'diode.' This was a small glass capsule with wire sticking out each end, coloured red one end and the other black if I remember correctly. This was the early transistor that replaced valves. I counted my pennies and bought one.
At home, I removed the crystal from the crystal-set that I had made and connected my treasured diode between the cat's whisker and the crystal holder. Amazing, no more need to find the best spot on the crystal - it was fixed and always in tune. As I now read computer magazines I know how thankful we should be for all the best inventions of my lifetime. Let us hope that they will be put to best use.
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