My story. No 2: - A different life is needed.

‘It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.’

You will recall, in part 1, daughter Emily gave me a book, 'Write your life story...' by Ann Garthorp in 2010. (click here if you missed part1). Chapter 14 covers, how a novel works. She writes about, 'SET-UP' as a way of fictionalising your life story. She provides, by way of the example above, how Jane Austin starts Pride and Prejudice to illustrate the point.

It is thus an intriguing sentence, with the hint of a story line.  I came second in the end of year exams, and thus a second chance to enter the grammar school.. OK, here goes.

It is a truth universally known that a single man, in possession of a second chance, must be in want of a different life. 

Different from what?

‘Like many surrounding areas, Featherstone grew around coal mining. Coal had been mined at Featherstone since the 13th century and remains of bell pits can still be seen to the north of Park Lane at North Featherstone. In 1848, the opening of the Wakefield, Pontefract and Goole railway line through Featherstone provided the basis for large scale coal mining in Featherstone, by opening up new markets in the South of England and Europe. Featherstone Main Colliery was opened in 1866, followed by Ackton Hall Colliery in 1873. These were closer to what is now the main part of Featherstone, which consequently expanded.

…Ackton Hall Colliery was the first pit to close following the end of the miners' strike and this could not be contested as geological difficulties had made it impossible for the pit to continue production… Opened in the 1950s, Purston Park takes up a large area of space and offers a lake and a children's play area’  [Wikipedia]

Featherstone is also an icon in the world of Rugby League football as the most famous of giantkillers. Crowds of 15,000 would pack home games, the town’s population 13,000. The players were gods, cult heroes and loved by every girl in town. My dad was captain. This brought me his genes plus other baggage, some of which I had already discovered. The rest is for later.

Different from what exactly?   Firstly, becoming an electrician at the pit, no way. 

Featherstone was grim, except the rugby, which was fab, terraced houses off the main road from North to South. Railway station, miner’s welfare, rugby ground and pubs. Parallel to the road, Featherstone Lane, the slag heap. On top a chair lift, like the Alps but buckets and black, this one tipped coal dust, along the half mile stretch parallel to the road and houses. I lived in North Featherstone, 28 Delacy Avenue to age seven. Most folk had a handkerchief as snot infused coal dust constantly ran down your nose, I used my sleeve.  Had my mother’s undivided attention for four years until brother Michael appeared. I hated school, kept behind for not accepting said could mean sed and told I was stupid by my teacher. I would walk the full length of the slag heap every weekend to Purston Park to play on the swings or a game of rugby. As we passed Cresseys corner, we took a cut through, down to the railway line, past a row of gleaming new ‘up-and-over’ metal doors. I threw a pebble at one, nice tuneful sound. Each week I threw a bigger pebble until, one Sunday when a policeman, with my parents, awaited my arrival home. I had bought an ice cream and remember it shaking in my hands and dribbling down my leg. Possibly my first anxiety attack, the babysitter must have been the second on reflexion.

Aged six, second brother, John arrives. Aged eight, Mandy is born. Nine abused by babysitter. Eleven failed entrance exams. By twelve, I cut a lonely figure, long since abandoned by mum with three others to manage. 

My second chance, the grammar school entrance exam, meant life or death. The exam was in November. By the end of term, December, I had heard nothing. I was in shock as the school holidays started, Christmas and new year depressed.  Friday 3rd January 1965, back to secondary modern on Monday. A letter arrives...

WOW, I am in, one year and one month late. Phew, that was close.

I started Normanton Grammar school three days’ later. Three months later I would fall in love with Elisabeth. Two weeks ago (October 2020) Elizabeth and I walked, hand in hand, along the towpath in Richmond.

Is it a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife?

Click here for Part 3.