Ice to see factory pictures
BEING in Grimsby on family business, a copy of the Telegraph was in the hotel, and being an absent Meggie of at least 40 years, I eagerly took up the paper and was stopped in my tracks when I turned to the centre pages.
Pictures of the Ice Factory – the memories just flooded back. My uncle was manager/engineer. I did not recognise him from the photos nor can I remember his surname.
I have vivid memories of him giving part of my family a tour of the works including the roof walk. On realising how high up we all were, plus the view over the docks, my eldest sister went into hysterics, but no accidents.
My son gave me the book Fishermen's Wives at Christmas, and again the memories flooded back.
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My father ended life as skipper, starting as a deck hand, and died before I was a year old. With two older sisters and brothers, Mum could have placed us in the orphanage at Hull but decided not to.
The family went from being OK financially to having not a lot, as a widow's pension at that time was 50p a week.
Mum worked cleaning jobs and so on, and even managed somehow to keep up the mortgage and managed to hang on to the piano! We had a nice house in Blundell Avenue, we lived next door to the manager of the Natwest bank.
Just let your imagination loose on that situation, but somehow we lived through it all.
Only one of us became involved in the fishing industry, brother Peter. He worked at a fishermen's outfitters on the North Wall, Colbridges I think (I am 83 years old so some excuse for a patchy memory!)
Some of the stories he told me, you would not believe them.
One story I can't forget, the police always had the heavy constables out at closing time in Freeman Street, and the sergeant met a constable half carrying a man along. The sergeant says, "What do you think you're doing?"
The policeman said, "I am taking him to Nelson Street." "What on earth for?" asked the sergeant. "The officer replied, "I arrested him in Garibaldi Street but can't spell it!"
Brian Bonner, details supplied.
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