Members Stories

Odd Bods From Birkenhead

I am sure there are still many 'odd bods' living on the North Shore today, but 70 years ago they were not lost among the population and they grew to be part of our lives - some bringing pleasure and some sadness.

My first recollection was back in about 1912. In the Birkdale district lived a Scotsman Mr Jeffries. He had been a baker and pastry-cook in Scotland and to supplement his income as a strawberry grower, he would bake his pastries and cakes at home then peddle them round the district. He was a long lean man, always wore a cap and on his head he balanced a huge tray of goods. I can always remember looking forward to Tuesdays when Mr Jeffries would call and we would gaze in wonder at his assortment of goodies. As we lived two miles from his home it was quite a feat balancing that tray full of baking!

Next in my memory was the old organ grinder. I remember vividly coming home from McGovern's store one day. At the bottom of the hill, just past where the Birkenhead Inn is today - sat this little old man on a campstool beside his organ. As I drew near he folded his stool, picked up a leather strap and began to pull the organ up the hill. I shyly offered to help him. When we reached the top he took my hand "God bless you my dear" he said "and may you never have a drunken husband". Why do I remember those words so clearly after 70 years? Perhaps it's because I DID'NT get a drunken husband!


Alice (nee Wilkins) at Birkdale School
Back Row: Thelma Tielde, Marg Fordham, Murial Finch, Alice Wilkins, Gerting Utting.
Front Row: Dossie Keymer, Caroline Elmsley, Grace Griffin.

Patrick McGovern and his wife kept a store - the only store to serve Birkdale for many years.Their pure Irish brogue was delightful to listen to, but Patrick was a very nervous fussy man. His greatest aversion was fireworks and he stoutly refused to sell them in his shop. The lads of the district were indignant. One Guy Fawkes night they gathered under Pat's verandah and let off all their fireworks. We all went to see the fun. I shall never forget Patrick hanging out the upstairs window in his nightshirt, waving his arms and calling for help, as we scattered in all directions.

A little later Tomato Taylor came on the scene – a man with a mop of white hair and a moustache. He grew the most wonderful tomatoes and peddled them round the district in his pony and trap calling "Tomatoes, tomatoes - tuppence a pound!"

Last, but not least was the headmaster of Birkdale School for 25 years, Mr Julian Brook. He was a thorough gentleman in more ways than one. He taught standards 3, 4, 5, and 6, and the three R's were grounded into our brains very thoroughly indeed. He kept a few cows on his property beside the schoolhouse and when a calf had to be killed - that was the time for a practical biology lesson. We gathered around the dead carcass while 'Brookie' explained to us the make-up and functions of the bullcalf. I can only remember two pupils fainting, several vomited, and we all went a peculiar colour. He had his own ideas of discipline - like the day one boy yawned during a history lesson. Quick as a flash, the chalk Brookie was holding was aimed - straight into the pupil’s mouth. In spite of his tyrannical ways, we look back with respect and admiration to this man who upheld the school motto "Our Aim the Highest". He had his kindly side too. A family in the district suffered a bereavement and could not afford an undertaker. It was Julian Brook who tidied up his old farm cart and used it as a hearse, driving it himself. I pay a tribute to this thorough gentleman.

These are just a few of the characters in our district about 75 years ago. We did not think them odd at the time, but accepted them as part of the community, and our lives were all the richer for knowing them.

Alice O’Callahan 1991