Wigan Album

I suspect we may both be of a similar age Philip. I was born at the latter end of 1947. I have no personal recollection obviously, but the snow was drifting up as far as the windowsills that particular winter by all accounts. I certainly remember the golliwog badges though, but then again, who doesn't ? although I never collected them myself. If I'm not mistaken, you had to collect several labels from the Robertson's jam jars then post them off to receive your lapel badge.... I seem to recall them becoming ' non p.c. ' sometime in the early 70's. How the world has changed. I think they did a production run of the characters playing musical instruments at one time. I still come across them at car boot sales from time to time. They were an emblem of a more innocent time. We wouldn't have understood the meaning of racial intolerance back then. You're perfectly correct when you say 1962 was a great time though. I feel genuinely sorry for anyone who never experienced life in the early 60's. I'd trade everything to go back to those days, mais ce n'est pas possible malheureusement......How's the French coming on Michael ?

I can recall collecting the paper tokens to send off for a golly badge....the tokens were tightly enclosed behind the label on the jar. I remember my badge was an ice-skater golly, and there were footballer gollies, cricketer gollies etc. in the early days; as time went on, more "modern" gollies were introduced, even an air-hostess golly, which I heard described as a "trolley-dolly-golly"!

Ozy - Thanks for your response. You're quite right, we are of a similar age. I was born in December 1948 and, like yourself, have not only been told stories about the terrible winter of 1947, but witnessed many other changes - not least of all one's friend the Golly badge becoming non p.c. The people whom endured the winter of 1947 have rightly been celebrated as being hard men and hard women, while the p.c. brigade is also right in its views - although Golly badge really does sound more collector-like than does Robertson's badge. Having just touched on the effect of nice sounding words and names, I'd like to see the word Genius used sparingly from now on, and by all; similarly, National Treasure applied to objects that are beyond reproach. How about 'Rocket Ronnie' being described as a 'marvelously' talented snooker player, and National Treasure being applied to The Hedgerow, The Dry Stone Wall, The Village Post Office... . National Treasure used as a descriptor would have been completely alien to your and my ears during The Sixties, but other momentous events and opportunities ensured the period was indeed an exciting time for both of us i.e. the music scene and the ease with which a worker could quite confidently give a weeks notice in order to secure a better position. The Big Freeze of 1963 was a bit of a 'stinker', though, but it didn't stop United and Bolton Wanderers crossing The Irish Sea to play out a friendly on a rain sodden pitch. It was during this match that a 'very' young George Best came face to face with the legendary full back Roy Hartle and their confrontation is a source of some hilarity and been well-documented. On a gentler note, my stars inform me that I am a person whom seeks wisdom (there are other 'things' as well), but such wizadry was scuppered the moment I developed a predilection to second favourites on left-handed courses e.g. Haydock Park. The time has now come for me to consult the works of that Horace fellow to discover more about my shortcomings. Thanks, and my regards.

Irene - A couple of the subjects you've listed here are quite familiar to me, but your mention of the token being put behind the label rekindles something which was half-forgotten. Many thanks.

Once again, you are perfectly correct Irene, I remember them now. It wasn't the labels that you had to collect, it was the paper figures. In my defence however, I'm obliged to state that we never consumed much jam in our house, we were far to impoverished to be able to afford fancy shop bought preserves, we had to make do with sugar butties. My mother came from a large family, I forget the exact number, and when she was in her teens, worked as a pit brow lass. In old age she used to tell a tale about going to work carrying a basket containing a bottle of water and a bag of sausage mark butties. Evidently, the head of the household, my grandfather, would have sausages for breakfast, but prior to consuming them, would press them onto the children's bread, leaving the imprint of the sausage. I'm reasonably confident that it was said as a joke, although not entirely. I well remember the winter of 62 / 63 Philip as will many other people on here no doubt. I seem to recall the temperature barely rose above freezing for several months. I think we were into March or possibly April before the thaw finally arrived. Someone will know the precise date. It's a pity Mr. Pyke is no longer amongst us as no doubt he would have had the answer. I had an evening paper round at the time, and I had spent all my money, about £12, which was a considerable amount at that time for a young lad, on purchasing a genuine Australian Air Force flying jacket from Slater's shop in Wallgate. It had been in the window for ages and I was determined it would become mine once I'd saved the money. Everyone at the time said I was mad, but it kept we warm during that bitter winter and offered some protection every time I fell off the bike onto the ice, which was quite frequently. I had it for many years before reluctantly parting with it for 50 quid 20 years ago. It would probably be worth more than my pension now had I kept it. Pardon me for rambling.

Regards. Ozy.

An Aussie flying jacket 'eh Ozzy. I'll show ya mine if you show me yours.

Ozzy, I have a book at home which states that in the early-middle part of the last century, in Higher Ince, (where I was born), the breakfast bacon bought for the Father of the house, (who needed sustenance to do his hard work in the pit), was "pressed" into a slice of bread and margarine for each child, therefore giving a flavour of bacon, before the actual meat was given to Dad! So the story could be true!

Born 1948,great times growing up in Spring View in 1950'/60's.Ozy as well as Sugar Butties ,don't forget Dripping Butties for Breakfast on Sunday morning.

Splendid read Ozy, Philip and Irene, so interesting.

Ozy - Rambling? Your input here and elsewhere on the site is a source of cheer. I guess the Australian Air force jacket which you saved up so hard for was 'very' similar to the brown leather fur-lined 'bomber jacket' bought by my neighbour/schoolmate; very smart. He bought his by mail order and eventually wore it at school causing fun and laughter from his many schoolmates, and bewilderment from the teachers. His family lived more or less back to back with mine and I can recall watching him sit on his back door step playing The Happy Wanderer on his brand new red Hohner accordion - he was quite a character. God bless his soul. Hope you can upload the photo of Yourself & Alice, and GW manages to find a photo himself, astride his Triumph. Val-deri, val-dera.

The Terrible Winter of 1947 which you hear about was the one I was born in - in February 1947 - not the other end of the year.

So it was Winter 46-47, Rev. Long. Thanks for tidying up and adding a bit more tooth to that mini-chronicle - the truth is out! Certain people from my neck of the woods still refer loosely to the Terrible Winter as 'that winter in The Forties', but your effort might now encourage their other experiences of that time to re-emerge as well. Hope you've seen the coloured postcard of the Deakin lorry on Google Images: 'Deakin's WW1 Postcard.'

Never mind the winter of 47. Remember 1963, when our school bus a red Ribble got stuck in snow and we had to walk the last mile in 3ft deep to Upholland Secondary, Philip! That was a regular occurance !