The Street
THE STREET- recollections of an almost forgotten childhood The street that I grew up on, at least until the age of 9, was an assembly of mostly prefabricated council houses with a pebbledash exterior along with a couple of blocks of flats- mostly for old age pensioners. It stood in stark contrast to the drab red bricked lines of row houses of the original village, the latter having been built in the earlier part of the century for the miners when indoor plumbing was a luxury afforded only to the rich. Most of these houses had no gardens, their front door opening directly onto the street. The back of the house was surrounded by a brick wall, some 6 feet high that enclosed a small back yard. Broken only by the backyard gate and a small 2x2 opening, accessing the coal shed, it mirrored a similar looking house across a cobbled back lane, just wide enough to accomodate a small coal lorry ...