I cannot with all honesty say that I first saw the “light of day” on 29th February 1929 because the house in which I was born in Jersey street was part of a long terrace of two up two down weavers cottages that stood in the perpetual shadow of Paragon Mill. This five storey mill was built in 1912 on land where previously seventeen cottages stood.

During my early formative years, my activities were confined to the New Cross District. The streets and alleyways which were filled with terraced cottages similar in size to the one I was born in, with irregular clusters of larger three storey ‘up steps with cellars’ houses, interconnecting ‘back entry’ passageways and ginnels which could be used as an escape route when the need arose.

My mother who was conceived in Picinisco and born in Galashiels near Edinburgh was the eldest of three surviving children who were abandoned by their father when she was just eight years old. Her mother was under the impression that he would send them the fare for the journey to Baltimore once he got settled, but she never saw hide nor hair of him again. She was left to provide for her three children with only the help of her eldest daughter (my mother) who became a skivvy in the community, washing and cleaning for their better off neighbours and helping her mother push an ice cream cart round the streets of East Ancoats and Ardwick Green.

My mother was always firm with me, she insisted I kept to the straight and narrow path of life and she taught me to respect others. By the time I was seven I was street-wise enough to know the difference between right and wrong.

After school activities involved me in doing things adventurous boys did. Swimming in the Rochdale canal basin, playing football in the streets using the lamp posts as goals and on occasion as wickets inspired by the achievements of the great Don Bradman on one of his visits to Old Trafford. Travelling over the border to Ardwick, to Bungo’ Park (Bung Hole) to listen to the military bands on Sundays and Bank Holidays, tiddler fishing in the canal locks, riding down ‘stony brow’ (Jutland Street) on home-made wheeled ‘guiders’ (go-carts) and taking part in the street games such as, black rabbit, piggy & stick, spinning top & whip and the energetic British bulldog and weak horse.

Involvement in these activities occasionally led to disagreements. In the main these were resolved after school, in accordance with the street gangs interpretation of the Queensbury Rules. Boxing gloves were available in abundance because in the late 1930s and early 1940s there were many past and present British, European, Empire and World Champions based in Manchester that the ‘art of self defence’ was very popular at the boys clubs in the area. Cyril Brown, nephew of former World Flyweight Champion ‘Jackie Brown’ used to set the standard. Three two minute rounds were the limit and Cyril made sure the rules were applied, being very handy at the sport himself nobody ever queried his decision.

The annual ritual of scavenging and collecting broken furniture and any other inflammable items prior to bonfire night, the older gang members on a guard rota to protect the lumber from the night raids of other gangs trying to relieve us of our precious lumber. These incursions often resulted in casualties and having to attend Ancoats Hospital for needle and thread surgery.

A silly adventure, which was undertaken just to prove how brave you were, was riding on the rear of a loaded horse drawn goods cart, risking not only serious injury from falling off but receiving a lash from the drivers whip when he was alerted by a passer-by with the cry of “Whip behind you”.
Serafino Di Felice