Life Could Be Shocking in the 1950’s By Harold Cunliffe Life today is totally different from when I was a child; technology has changed our lives dramatically.
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ack then, should a member of the family be require to make a telephone call you had to travel to the end of the street to use the public call box, then placing pennies in to the coin box, pressing button “A” to be connected or “B” for a failed call and the return of your money. Many occasions having to wait for its use, plus standing next to the call box in inclement weather. No central heating, no running hot water, a gas wall heater would provide water for use in the kitchen. No bathroom; our family used a ‘dolly tub,’ to bathe which was easier to empty than the tin bath. I remember the arrival of the television in 1957 watching my parents dancing round the room with the aerial trying to obtain a decent signal, all for the sake of two (part time) stations which were available. But the thing which was hard to cope with was the outside toilet;
especially in winter. During the night if you took short you could use the receptacle, known as the ‘Edgar Allen,’ (Poe), which was located under the bed. During the mid 1950’s I can remember vividly my first day at school, St Wilfred’s at Newton Heath, an old Victorian building, which unfortunately retained one of its original facilities. It was strange that no one ever gave directions to the whereabouts of the toilets, they had no need too, it was a case of follow the smell. The Victorian toilet arrangements frightened me to death, ultimately bringing me into conflict with the teaching staff. A passage existed linking the playground with the adjoining street. A row of about ten old wooden doors were located on the left hand side from the school yard which carried evidence of previous use, thus being covered in names and graffiti carved into the wood by past pupils which had been preserved for posterity by being overpainted many times. Opening the closet door you encountered a box like structure which sported a flat wooden seat, in fact it was a painted plank with a hole in it. There were no means of flushing this facility after use, unlike a conventional toilet,
Above: Raymond Cunliffe. Metal coating engineer by trade also a wizard with the internal combustion engine.
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similar to the one we had at home. Should you be brave enough to look down the toilet the waste was visible in the sewer deep below. The waste from previous use rested in this position until a device known as a ‘tippler’ came into action. A tippler was shaped like a small wheelbarrow receptacle which would fill with around two gallons of waste water from the kitchen sink. Once the required level of water was reached the container would over balance and tip, thus emptying its contents down the drain which would cause a rush of water to flush away whatever was in the drain below the toilet seat. Upon my first visit I happened to glance through the hole in which you had to sit upon, observing the drain below. To my horror I spotted a school cap. My young mind gave the vivid picture of a poor child who had fallen down the drain and sunk up to his neck in this filthy muck, he was unable to get out and perished, and to make matters worse no one cared, everyone was going to the toilet on top of him! I thought that the base was a pit, having no idea that the tippler would wash whatever was in the gulley below away, including on this occasion a cap.
Above: Outside W.C.
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