• Article |
• Discussion |
• Edit |
• History

Connie Barker, of Swadlincote (below) takes a poetic stroll down memory lane to the Derby of her youth....

I am a Derby County fan,

what more can I say.

I was born in the Nightingale

on the 16th of May.

I remember Cockpit Hill,

the cobbles and Mad Harry;

The cattle market and the fair,

where as a child I loved to tarry;

The river gardens with a picnic

after wandering the open market;

Victoria Street and Woolworth’s

wooden floorboards and frothy Horlicks;

Dad parading with the fireman

on a Sunday to the market square;

The atmosphere at Christmas

with carols being sung there;

The fish market on Good Friday,

No buses running then.

We had snow and ice and week-long slides

on streets that bore no traffic.

Co-op milk delivered by horse –

We raced to get the muck

To put around the rhubarb

If we had lots of luck.

Lamp posts to climb and sit upon or

swing upon the bars.

A fall may bring a bruise or two,

Leave us seeing stars.

Cellars damp and cold where coal is kept,

Dad sorted it in piles –

Lumps and small and nutty slack

for damping down the fires.

Trolley buses through the town,

watching poles fall off the wires,

Burton’s corner being famous,

I could have watched it all for hours.

Outside loo across the yard,

where unknown bogies live.

A running dash and slamming door,

Short breath to then live with.

Scrumping over garden walls

On dark and starless nights;

Hide and seek and ghoulie tales

normal kid street fights.

Mucky hands and faces,

Knees bleeding from a fall –

All such happy memories

is what I do recall.

Jury Street, the fire station,

Spiral stairs and sliding pole,

Multi-storey car park takes the place of the one-time rec.

No more swings and children-only upper deck.

Roller skates and bicycles,

Shank’s pony everyday,

Hours and hours of freedom

In streets so safe to play.

Rykneld Rec where, as a child,

I paddled in the brook.

Allotments fenced and gated,

Did they keep us out? No such luck.

Firs Estate, my infant school,

proudly still standing there.

I seemed to get in trouble,

yet never had a care.

Beneath the clock. within the hall,

I spent considerable time.

The mischief I got into,

which was then a certain crime,

Was playing marbles in the street,

Fag packets to the wall

Arriving home from school so late

I got into a brawl.

Derby at the Baseball Ground,

Derby at Pride Park;

Weekend walks with family

To Markeaton and Darley Park.

Bananas in the greenhouse,

“Mind your own business” beside the path.

Playing Penny Ferry down the grassy bank

The family having a laugh.

Junction Street, the Sunday School,

Then up to Uttoxeter New Road,

where sneakily I climbed the wall

and in the Rowditch rove.

The Hippodrome, the pantomime

from up in the gods we viewed.

Gone is the college just for art,

Normanton Road gone too.

I extended my education

in the college there

With Mr Rubenstein the head

sat firmly in his chair

Times have changed, not for the better

We that are older may say.

Yet the younger generation

will certainly have their day.

It pleases me that Derby

is a city with cathedral tall.

But, at the end, my main delight is

Derby County Football.

FEEDBACK

Did you enjoy this article? If so, why not comment on it? Perhaps you disagree with something in it, or you know something the writer doesn't and can add some extra facts. You may want to ask a question about this article. Making a contribution is easy - either click 'edit' to insert more information or 'discussion' and then 'add comment.' This is your site. Please feel free to use it to the full and share your memories, thoughts and knowledge about Derbyshire with others.

If there is no 'edit' link showing it means the article has either previously been published in the Derby Evening Telegraph, or it has been protected by the site administrator and cannot be edited.'

County:  Derbyshire

Return to You_and_Yesterday