Charlie George – The Brickie who built his own Mile Cross Home.

As a young child who grew up on the estate during the 1980’s, there were quite a few familiar elderly Mile Cross residents whose friendly faces I’d regularly see as we made our way about. Quite a few of those gentle faces are etched into my memory, and now, when I’m wandering around the estate as a middle-aged man, on my way to the pub with my dad, popping to the shops, or simply out for a walk, usually wondering where all that time has gone, I’ll pass a particular house or spot and a memory will suddenly be triggered.

I love these little moments. They’re always unexpected and normally always a pleasure, and for a brief moment I’ll be dragged back to those hazy, rose-tinted days of innocent youth. Every now and then I’ll find myself wondering about those faces from the past and what there stories were.

What I hadn’t thought too much about as a child, when encountering these people, was that many of those elderly residents had most likely lived here since these homes were built in the 1920’s. They had probably seen a lot during their lives, growing up in a very different Norwich to the one I’d grown up in, and they must have watched Mile Cross, and the wider world, change around them.

One thing I’ve noticed over the years of researching the estate is that, until relatively recently, people around here didn’t move about very much. Families often stayed in the same home for decades, sometimes for many generations, which meant that many of these elderly residents had been here from the very beginning.

I have very vague memories of an elderly man tending to his front garden as we made our way noisily past on our way to school. I don’t remember much about him, but I do remember his face and the cheeky smile he’d give us as we made our past.

I later found out during the research phase of the ‘Mile Cross 100’ project that this particular friendly-faced old gentleman was Charlie George.

As a young man, Charlie was one of the hundreds of men employed after the First World War to build the new homes here on the Mile Cross Estate. He was as a bricklayer, who I think, rather wonderfully, eventually ended up living in one of the houses he helped to set out. A house that he would spend living in, not for a few years, but for the rest of his long and eventful life.

Charlie was born in 1904, while his parents lived in in an old cottage out at old Bowthorpe. Back then this area was the remnants of a lost medieval village surrounded by fields, rather than the 1970’s and 1980’s housing estate we know it as today.

The growing George family then moved a bit closer to the city and into one of the last of the Victorian-style terraced houses that are so prevalent throughout Heigham and Lower Hellesdon, however these last few old-style terraces were built in the early 1900’s, the very last of the old style of narrow terraces. The new George family home was located at the bottom end of Nelson Street, close to Heigham Street and Dial House and it was here that Charlie grew up.

He would eventually follow in the footsteps of his father, William George , who was also a skilled bricklayer, and had helped to build some impressive structures here in Norwich. Among other things, William had worked on the city’s Victorian sewer system and the impressively long wall that runs along Waterworks Road, which can still be admired today.

William had rather more stories to tell than your average bricklayer, too.

Continue reading “Charlie George – The Brickie who built his own Mile Cross Home.” →

Mile Cross Pioneers and The ‘Wooden Slums’

During the research phase of the recent Mile Cross 100 project one of the little details we were hoping to find out was who were the first people to move into a Mile Cross home on the new estate, however, I wasn’t surprised to learn that we couldn’t figure out exactly who those very first tenants were. I mean, we had some names of people who were here in the beginning, but it was nigh-on impossible to pin down any one person or family that were given the very first set of keys here in Mile Cross, which was a bit of a shame. We knew that people started moving in to some of the first purpose-built Council-owned homes in around 1923, at around the same time, or not long after the new bridge at Mile Cross was opened in September of the same year. By using the Kelly’s Directories (Heritage Centre, top floor, Forum) of the time I did manage to build a fairly accurate map of which streets were inhabited, and in which years. For example, at the start of 1924 there were people already living at Bolingbroke Road, Chambers Road, Civic Gardens, Losinga Crescent, Marshall Road and Rye Avenue, but not all of those roads were yet fully inhabited, or indeed completed at this point. People were effectively moving into a building site, and this theme continued on for about seven years.

Continue reading “Mile Cross Pioneers and The ‘Wooden Slums’” →

Tuckswood Girl leaves a Mile Cross Legacy

August 24th, 2001. To start with it was a morning like any other, I’d dragged myself out of bed and was unenthusiastically contemplating breakfast before another day of staring blankly into a computer screen in a bland office. However, my weekday morning indifference was to be interrupted by a vibrating mobile phone on my bedside table, making me wonder; who on earth is calling me at this time of day? As I flipped open the phone, there was the name ‘Dad’ on the screen, which was odd for two reasons; he was normally at work by now, and if they ever wanted anything it would usually be mum who rang, as dad and I never really see eye to eye. Casually intrigued, I pressed the answer button and said: “Hiya, what’s up?”

A trembling voice that almost sounded like dad, but not as I’d ever heard him before simply replied: “help”. Now, at that time, Dad’s car – a mk2 Vauxhall Cavalier – was notoriously shit, leading me to instantly assume that he had just dropped mum off at work and that the unreliable Vauxhall shit-box had broken down (again) leaving him stranded somewhere on the A47 between Norwich and Brundall. My short-lived assumptions were about to be stopped in their tracks like a car running into the side of a bridge by the next few words that would leave my dad’s mouth: “Your mum’s dead”.

My response, which still haunts me to this day was: “OK, I’ll just finish my breakfast and I’ll be right over”. A shock like that and the way a person reacts to it can be simply baffling.

Sue Lane at Fountains Road in 1975/1975

Susan (Sue) Lane was a Tuckswood Girl born in 1955 and she grew up on Fountains Road on the southern fringes of the then fairly new estate, built during the post-war housing boom. She went to the nearby Hewett School where she performed well as a student and shortly after leaving her full-time education she was introduced by her cousin (as pen pals) to a chap he had befriended in the same regiment as him in the British Army, a young Glaswegian chap named John. After exchanging letters, they instantly hit it off and by November of 1974 they were married at St Paul’s Church in Tuckswood. The day of their marriage was the only the third time they’d actually met in person! As a result of this whirlwind romance I entered this mortal realm in 1976 as an army baby, born in Tidworth Military Hospital. For some reason and even though the Maternity Block had recently been refurbished the hospital closed 5 months later in March 1977. Perhaps it was something I’d said?

Continue reading “Tuckswood Girl leaves a Mile Cross Legacy” →

Albert Bayes – Lakenham Boy leaves a Mile Cross Legacy

How do you write a piece about a man you’ve never actually seen a photograph of but know so much detail about? It’s quite hard and this is why I love historical photography, particularly photographs of people. If the subject is looking at the camera you can see into their eyes. Even if they’re no longer with us you can almost get a sense for the soul lurking behind those eyes looking back at you across the years. Unfortunately I can’t make this particular connection with the man I’m about to talk about and it troubles me a little.

Albert Bayes came into this world on the 13th May 1890 at 4 Kensington Place, Lakenham and the life that was mapped out before this particular Lakenham boy was going to be something of a rollercoaster, which I’m going to delve into shortly; but as is often the case when I look into the history of people, I get side-tracked and stumble across hidden little corners of Norwich I’d never considered and this is the case here. The Kensington Place in which Albert was born only really survives in name these days as the tightly-packed double-row of houses, accessed by a small entrance off Queens Road have been swept away for some 1960’s un-improvements. However, the original entrance alleyway still survives along with the only real clue to it’s former use in an old yard-style name-plate, but it’s a blink and you’ll miss it affair as it’s so tiny.

It’s interesting to think that this tight little alleyway was once the main entrance to so many houses on a piece of land sandwiched between City Road, Hall Road and Queens Road and only a stones-throw from St Mark’s Church where a young Albert would have been christened. Unlike the cramped yards of the era, these houses looked as though they had a little bit of outside space, both front and rear and a chance at some good amounts of daylight once you’d entered through the tiny alleyway. As I stood in that tiny, little conduit taking the photograph below I could almost feel the ghosts of young Albert and the rest of his family brushing by as they made their way in an out of their home over a century previously.

The easily-missed entrance to Kensington Place, Lakenham.
Continue reading “Albert Bayes – Lakenham Boy leaves a Mile Cross Legacy” →

Aylsham Road. A window into the lives of a Mile Cross Family in the early 1900’s

As often happens, I stumbled upon a fascinating old photograph taken in my neck of the woods being shared on one of the many local history Facebook groups and it really caught my attention. The photograph was of a family proudly standing outside a large-looking house on Aylsham Road, not too far from the city end. Being the inquisitive sort of chap that at I am, I have often wondered about this particular area and the small collection of homes along here that once backed on to what is now Clapham Wood and the former Putty Pierce’s Lime kiln site. Continue reading “Aylsham Road. A window into the lives of a Mile Cross Family in the early 1900’s” →

A walk through old Mile Cross

Seeing as I’m stuck at home 23/7 and slowly losing my sanity due the boredom, I thought  I’d put together a little photographic tour of Mile Cross using some of the old pictures from some of the previous blog entries. Walk with me on an imaginary tour of Mile Cross, just bear in mind that you’ll need to gloss over the fact that the timeline is all over the shop and that the route is a bit nonsensical. 2020 has been a nonsensical year so far anyway, so it should be easy enough to tag along. Continue reading “A walk through old Mile Cross” →

Watching TV and curiosity leads me right back to “the cross”.

The other evening I did something I rarely get the chance to do these days and that was to sit in my ‘old man’ armchair with my two cats curled up on my lap and watch a bit of telly. As I scanned the Virgin box to see what I’d been recording, I found a fairly new series going by the name of the ‘Bone Detectives’ which looks into the history of people and their surroundings by analysing their bones.

The episode I had decided to watch was looking into the past of the remains of three young bodies (a male child and two young teenage girls), unearthed in Leeds whilst clearing a site to build a posh-knobby shopping centre. As it turned out, these poor little souls were victims of the Industrial revolution and had literally been worked to death, with all the evidence pointing to the likelihood that they would have been working from dawn until night in a nearby cotton mill.

Continue reading “Watching TV and curiosity leads me right back to “the cross”.” →

Mile Cross disturbs the neighbours – Heigham.

I haven’t written anything in a while as my head’s been in a bit of a muddle, but after popping out out for an evening walk with the kids a week or so back, a few bits and pieces of an old puzzle began to form in my head. We’d ended up just over the water from Mile Cross and in a little play-park situated in the corner of quiet and secluded green space that is probably missed by the majority of Norwich as they drive on past. I was sat on a swing hidden from the last dregs of the rush-hour traffic under the suspicious gaze of the tower of St Bartholomew’s. When I say tower; I mean just the tower, as that is all that remains of this former village church; and when I say gaze, I mean that I could literally feel the eyes of the surviving grotesques staring at me from the top of the nearby tower.

Ever feel like you’re being watched?

MC8 Continue reading “Mile Cross disturbs the neighbours – Heigham.” →

Mary Jacobs, now and then.

Reduced 75 Valpey

Just a brief entry to show that I haven’t disappeared completely. I’ve had my fingers in far too many pies of late and haven’t had time to concentrate on one thing long enough to form anything coherant enough to form one of my usual long and rambling entries.

This merging of two photographs – or ‘Ghost’ image – is of a Mary Jacobs, standing at the gate of her recently acquired Valpy Avenue home.

Back then – for reasons unknown to me – the area in which all of the houses South of Drayton Road and to the West of Havers Road were referred to as ‘The Drayton Estate’ and not Mile Cross, even though they were built by the same builders and on the same piece of purchased farmland as the rest of the estate.

It’s likely that before moving into this house Mary would have lived in one of the yards and slums around (or not too far from) the area that is now known as Anglia Square.

These new houses must have been a dream come true to former residents of the slums; they had fresh, running water; loads of space, big gardens for growing fruit and veg, indoor toilets and this particular row, a fantastic view of the Wensum Valley, complete with regular Steam engines puffing through the middle of all that scenery – a far cry from the unsanitary conditions, gloom and squalor, typical of those old and cramped yards closer to the city centre.

Mary passed away in 1938, but her family remained in this home for many years after.

Original image supplied by Mary’s Granddaughter, Susan McClarence, who informs me that her sister was born behind those very walls.

Until I can find the time to write something a little more in-depth, thanks for looking.

Stu.