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Your Stories
Welcome to a new addition to our website - Your Stories. Below, you’ll find a selection of stories, poems and recipes from local people.
If you’d like to submit your stories, poems, recipes or anything else for inclusion on our website please feel free to email .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address) or call us on 0115 970 8200.
How Radford used to be
Have you ever wondered what Radford was like years ago? Here’s an article written for us by Ron Booth, aged 76, who was born in Radford and also lived in Hyson Green. Ron is also a local historian and a member of the Radford, Basford and Lenton history societies.
Radford Road was a vibrant shopping area, where you could purchase almost anything, before and after the Second World War. It was a place to shop, along with Denman Street in Radford.
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There were three cinemas on the road, The Grand, the Boulevard and the Leno’s, all now sadly demolished. Up to the demolition in the 1950’s some of the houses were still lit by gas lighting.
The Boulevard Cinema never issued tickets during or after the war. You were issued with a round aluminum token for the downstairs, and for the balcony, they issued a diamond shaped one.
The Grand cinema had a Saturday afternoon club for the children who attended the Saturday matinee. One was called the Little Concert Party.
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The Leno’s, The Boulevard and the Windsor Cinema on Hartley Road, all had Saturday children’s matinees.
After the main film and the news film were shown (with boos and cheers when either the Germans or Allies were shown on the news) we all looked forward to the serial which was shown at the end of the afternoon session.
Flash Gordon on Mars with Ming the Merciless; Overland with Kit Carson, a cowboy serial; Hop a Long Cassidy and Gabby Hayes, another cowboy serial.
The only entertainment we had during those dark days of Second World War was the radio and the cinema.
All the neighbours would help one another in any crisis. I can remember my mother going into hospital and the next door neighbour cooked the dinner for us. One neighbour did the washing and ironing, which left my father free to go to work. It was such a wonderful environment to grow up in.
Thanks to the mothers, the churches of all denominations, the Women’s Voluntary Service, the British Red Cross and all the other organisations around at the time, we had the spirit to fight on. These memories are etched in my mind forever.
A Radford Lad - by Ron Booth
I was born in a place called Radford, a place of happiness and tears,
With my family and my relatives, I lived there for forty years.
We weren’t ashamed of our background, we were brought up to be polite,
Our parents kept us well disciplined, stray off, and you’d expect a clout.
We tied door knobs together, and went spirit tapping for a lark,
We played a game called Tin Lurkey, and other tricks after dark.
Our parents weren’t very wealthy, poor as church mice one could say,
But any neighbour in trouble, would be helped in any way.
To Pownall’s scrapyard we would call, to sell him wools and rags,
And listen to his son named Frankie, and laugh at all his gags.
An Errol Flynn double, with a moustache and flashing white teeth,
A quick weigh on the weighing machine, a fortune you would seek.
‘Sorry lad there’s not enough rags there, to make it worth my while,
I’ll give you sixpence for the lot’, and would flash a cheeky smile.
We had many characters living there, the General the kids did name,
He would greet you with a salute, and expected you to do the same.
He was a very grand old soldier, one of the very best,
Walking the streets of Nottingham, with medals pinned on his chest.
Stick Jimmie was the woodman, and to sell his sticks he would call,
Fire lighters, newspapers and other things, he would try to sell them all.
He would never give you credit, as he always wanted cash,
And when he’d done the deal, he’d inquire if you’d mashed?
There was Ikey Mo the rag man, a very unpleasant chap,
You crossed the street when you saw him, sometimes he gave you a slap.
He’d curse and use bad language, words you could not repeat,
And if he caught you being cheeky, expect his boot up your seat.
I wander the places in Radford, and think of the streets no longer there,
The families we knew and played with, their friendship and loving care.
My friends and my relations, and the people who made you mad,
But the one thing that I am most proud of, is being a Radford lad.