ATHERTON WAKES
Facing the old Atherton Gasworks was the Brickfield. It was a large piece of spare land between Factory Street East and George Street.
I used to think it was called that because it was covered in stones and old bricks, but it could have been a place where, many years ago, bricks were actually made.
Despite the name, it wasn't even a field. I'm hard-pressed to remember there being a blade of grass anywhere in sight on it. A few weeds dared to poke their heads out of a pothole ...
The houses nearby were called Spring Gardens. No sign of a spring or even a garden there either but it was a close community. A friend of mine recalls that it was the archetypal "you could leave your back door open" type of place where a neighbour would come in and bank your fire up for you - having borrowed half a cup of sugar out the kitchenette at the same time...
The Brickfield itself was the place where the local kids used to play footy, piggy or cricket (hit the side of the Gas Works and you got a six).
The lads of the Hook family used to have their bonfire there - and woe betide anyone who tried to raid it. Our gang tried it once - even today my heart beats faster when I think about it. They chased us all the way home and I hid in a ginnell behind Massey’s shop.
For most of the year it remained clothed in its dirty and uninspiring top coat but twice a year, something marvellous happened which transformed that drab dusty corner of Bent into our own homespun equivalent of the magic of Hollywood.
THE WAKES CAME TO ATHERTON!
If you are under 25, you have absolutely no idea what this meant to the kids of Atherton. In the early 50's, most of us didn't have tellies and we "made our own fun". We enjoyed ourselves playing our games in the street such as Kick Out Ball and Queenie but there was nothing to compare with the excitement that the Wakes brought to town. (The Wakes was the Lancashire name for a Fair and the name springs from the time when a wake would be held in a church on Saints Days for that particular saint to whom the church was dedicated. ).
Their caravans, some with shiny chrome-plated sides and containing exquisite pieces of porcelain china, would line the streets around and leading up to the Brickfield. Underneath them would lie the chained up guard dogs, usually alsatians, which would leap out barking ferociously at you without provocation should you dare to venture too close.
The bigger lads used to tell you scary stories about the "gypsies" amongst them to the effect that if you got too close to them, they would kidnap you and take you away with them and put spots on your face!
Their faces were well-known to the people of Atherton and I think I recall that the head of the family wore a bowler hat - unusual for those days to be seen outside of an Armistice Day parade.
Because they had been coming to the town for many years, a close link developed between them and certain Atherton families - some of the local girls even baby-sat for them.
Two of the regular Wakes men were brothers who had suffered horrific burns (it is said that they threw a match into an oil drum and it exploded in their faces.)
Excitement built and we watched in wonderment as the travelling fair gradually took shape... the Waltzer; the Noah's Ark; Chairoplanes, the Dodgems; the Big Wheel; the Whip and all the various side-stalls. We took good care not to get in the way of the burly "wakesmon" as he would frequently let loose with a few choice epithets should this be the case.
When the wakes opened on the Friday evening, we all flocked grasping our pennies and tanners and thripenny bits which our loving parents, aunties and uncles had given us - and the world was our hot dog!
As we walked nearer and nearer, the butterflies would start as the pop music of the day (for some reason I remember Here Comes Summer) got louder and louder as we approached and the flashing coloured lights of the rides got brighter and brighter and the throb of the mighty generators with names like King Kong echoed the throbbing of our own hearts . Then the smell of the candy floss and the fried onions got stronger and stronger...then we were there! On't Wakes! No longer the Brickfield but paradise on earth with all the glamour a junior Athertonian could handle.
The little uns would make for the small roundabouts, usually near the Mealhouse Lane end, and sit in an open-top Dragon or a small trolley bus or aeroplane and go round and round waving at mam.
The big uns would flock to the Waltzer which spun them round giddily but which sometimes had a hidden bonus. Because of the movement of the carriage, change would often be flung out of trouser pockets to disappear down the back of the seat. Our hands would surreptitiously feel down the cracks to see what we could retrieve, taking good care not to let the wakesmon see us otherwise he might feel disposed to give us a clout, for he perceived all loose change as one of the perks of his lowly-paid vocation.
Though it was probably the tamest and most boring ride on the wakes, the Caterpillar proved popular with lads and lasses of a certain age as when the green corrugated cover came over half-way through the ride to make it look like a huge circular caterpillar and hid the people on the ride, that was when the opportunity was taken for a quick snog. Many a flirtation - and probably a marriage or two - started on the bumpy old Caterpillar ride.
The Penny Slots were a popular place which probably started one or two Athertonians on the rocky road to Gamblers' Anonymous. They were in a large tent containing wooden shelves full of old "catchpenny" machines which are now worth a fortune as collectors' items. On some of the machines was a disc with several colours on and you could bet on which colour would stop against the arrow. If you look at the old Wild West films, you can usually see a similar machine in the saloon bars!
Next to the Penny Slots was Butterworth's Black Pea Saloon where "blanket-lifters" were a speciality. Some people also called them musical fruit, for reasons which should be fairly obvious.
Pigeon peas were boiled in a large cauldron fired by coke and served in thick white cups into which a squirt of vinegar from a little pot barrel was added, if requested. They were eaten in their own gravy with a spoon and boy did they taste good. It may have been the fumes off the coke or the rust from the cauldron that added something but try as you may, you could never get the same taste when you tried to do black peas yourself at home.
(If you want to try, here's the recipe...
Black Peas.
Get a 1lb of Maple Peas from the supermarket (or even the Pet Shop but check they are ok for human consumption!).
Wash thoroughly, removing any stones. Soak overnight. Drain. Place in a large pan. Cover with water. Bring to boil. Simmer for 2 or 3 hours. Keep checking and top up with water if needs be. Eat when soft, adding salt and vinegar to taste. They are best made and left to stand overnight I find. The "gravy" thickens and the flavour develops.)
Inevitably, after trying your luck at the Blackjack and Roll-a-Penny stalls, your little stock of cash would dwindle away to nothing. You never seemed to want to go home though. Like a magnet the wakes was...
Nowadays, the "Brickie" is no longer there. Blocks of flats stand on the spot of so many happy childhood memories. One less place for kids to play. One less place for them to enjoy themselves. But being one of the lucky ones, I can still close my eyes and see and hear and smell it all, so I'm off to the Wakes again.
In my dreams...
*****NEW!! SOMETHING WAKES....For a cracking story by Val Seddon based around a girl's obsession with wakes men, CLICK HERE