Bygone Park Road, Southampton
by Pete Simpkin
The trombone hung there in the shop window resplendent in front of an azure blue drape and beside it the unattainable price label…£7. The window was that of a second-hand shop in Park Road near the junction with Paynes Road and next to the old Police station building. This shop was one of five of its kind between here and the southern junction with Millbrook Road.
Park Road was then a thriving centre of little shops catering for almost all needs. Apart from Doctor Cline’s surgery, the chemists and the Post Office at the junction of Sir Georges Road there were two bakeries…one where the ovens opened straight onto the street which made for ease of loading the little delivery van but would, in the enlightened 21st century, immediately fall foul of the health and safety regulations but in these far off days of the 40s and 50s offer an inquisitive…or hungry child immediate access to the mysteries of baking and ready access to hot rejects. The mis-shaped or slightly burned offerings that were there for the eating! The other Southwells at the corner of Kingston Road was much more formal with counter ladies dressed in smart tunics.
There were four pubs The Anchor & Hope, The Star and Garter, The Freemantle and The Swan (now The Wellington Arms) there were two restaurants, also for a hair trim there was Spaggy’s barber shop. Nearby Alwins seed shop sold anything from seed potatoes to freshly ground flour. For the fashion conscious there was even a clothes shop, two greengrocers and a fishmonger…even a soft drinks bottling works where the highly painted vans constantly came and went on their errands delivering the magic Tizer to places far and wide. We even had a church…the Elim where they sometimes sang their joyful hymns outside on warm summer evenings.
Of course, so soon after the war four bomb sites graced Park Road …one eventually became the Woodyard…. dangerous but exciting playgrounds for grubby youngsters to play cowboys and Indians and on these sites were wild gooseberry bushes…in season a refreshing source of alfresco picnics. Sandwiched in between these places were little houses…some large detached surrounded by pairs of semi-detached homes which had escaped the German bombers and where families came and went on their journeys to work and school. I recall there were no garages attached to these homes hardly anyone owning a car…. Park Road people travelled by bike or bus.
One detached house opposite the end of Andover Road one day grew a huge pole alongside it’s chimney and affixed to this was a huge metal frame in the shape of a large ‘H’ which we were told pointed towards South Wales from where the occupants could watch the latest entertainment in their own home…television! As far as we knew this was the first TV home in the area but later it was joined by another one and this was in the home of a friend of the family so we could finally witness the spectacle for ourselves.
But far and away the most important shops for me were the second-hand shops. Our mother had an attraction to these places for more practical reasons for here she could purchase at realistic prices clothing for the family, kitchen utensils and a speciality of hers Huttons on the corner of Lisbon Road where were presented an overwhelmingly striking selection of furniture from kitchen cabinets to room filling wardrobes and even beds. But for me the attraction was the wonderful array of electrical equipment on show at the smaller second-hand shops, names long gone. There was of course a heap of things salvaged from bombed out houses but also a surprising selection of mysterious things…a ship’s wheel, a motor cycle engine, huge dialled grey boxes bearing the legends ‘AMPERES’ or ‘KiloWatt Hours’.
There were coils of wire and rope, bicycles, skipping ropes, packets of nails, hinges and towers of tools and wonder of all there were old radios…enormous examples of the woodworkers trade filled with glowing dials bearing the names of faraway places like ‘Hilversum’ or ‘Brookmans Park’,’ Luxembourg’, and all containing glowing valves which lit up the inside of these wondrous creations.
There were also windup gramophones and hundreds of 78 rpm records. If you didn’t like music you could buy these records take them home, hold them in front of the fire and bend them into shapes like flower vases. And of course, there was the occasional musical instrument and so to the trombone. Much as she wanted to indulge me my Mum knew the family budget could not stretch to such flights of fancy and my attention eventually was distracted to something else…and the inevitable change from childhood to the new adult world.
What seemed like only a few years later I returned to this remarkable road with my child’s hand in mine and certainly enough money in my pocket to purchase the trombone. But it had of course gone and along with it the whole shop…in fact nearly all the shops had gone. It was now the fashion to travel far to do quite ordinary shopping.
There were no more free cakes at the bakery and certainly no more second-hand shop windows to press your nose against. Park Road was no longer a place… it had become just a passageway to somewhere else…
Comments
Caroline's Memories
I lived at 61, Park Road from 1964 until about 1971. We had a newsagent’s shop, called Prowtings, which my father, Ronald Curtis, owned. We sold the obvious things, such as tobacco and papers, but also confectionary, toys, cards, knitting wool and comics. I was very familiar with the different names of cigarettes in those days – Players, Kensitas, Benson and Hedges etc – but I never smoked as an adult! I used to read all the comics, including all the American DC comics, but Bunty was always my favourite. We used to have all the old-fashioned jars of sweets even then.
I clearly recall the red tin jar with the picture of the man sneezing on the front – Hack’s cough sweets! The papers used to arrive very early in the morning and when we came downstairs to get ready for school, the paperboys and girls were in the shop sorting out their rounds. We used to get our papers from Bishops and Sunridge Dawson on Waterloo Rd. We delivered the pink Football Echo too. Our shop assistants were Mrs Marjorie Mallinson who lived in Lisbon Road, Mrs Ena Bremble who lived on Paynes Road and Marion Cunningham who lived on Park Road.
Next door to us was the Cadena Bakery, which was known to you as Southwells. I can still remember what it smelt like in there! All those iced buns! The ladies who served were very familiar faces, and they wore nylon overalls, I remember. The Cadena had a little courtyard round the side in Kingston Road, enclosed by a wall with black railings. So many of us local kids used to play in that little area. My friends were the Jacobs family and the Eccles family from Kingston Road, and later the Prowses from Queenstown Rd. Mr Jacobs had a large black Princess car that he used for weddings. Sometimes we would ride around in it, feeling very regal!
On the other side of us was the VG grocery store. It was an early forerunner of the supermarket, with many different products, but still small and, of course, local. It was run by a father and son, but their names escape me. Other shops in the street, were the fishmonger’s, run by Mr Bert Hiscock. I remember him well. I seem to remember his hair brylcreemed down shiny and smooth! Then there was the butcher, Mr Scott. And the fish and chip shop (I recall dashing across the road in our pyjamas to get our tea!), the launderette, the hairdressers, the betting shop, Mr. Spacagna’s barber shop, the seed store (a shop long gone!), the Post Office down by Sir George’s Road (seemed miles away to me). We had everything we needed…it was a real community, with all its ups and downs. Such a shame it’s all changed.
Other places we used to visit was the library on the corner of Shirley Road and Grove Road, and the Atherley cinema for Saturday morning shows (Batman and Robin), Emanuel Church on Shirley Road for Sunday School, Povey’s dance hall on Shirley Road for school ballet lessons, the old swimming baths, of course, and the Top Rank dancing Suite on Saturday mornings as well as the ice rink in Banister Park. I went to a small private school at first, in Arthur Road, called Landguard School, but then we all went to St Marks. I still see my form teacher, Miss Bowyer, from time to time!
My father, Ronald Curtis, died in 1969 and we eventually went to live in St Denys. When I occasionally drive round Park Road, the place seems so tiny and even a bit sad. It has, however, a strange power to evoke memories and profound feelings from the past.
The photo (right) shows my mother (caught by surprise!) and brother outside our shop. There is also a photo of my Dad outside his newsagents at 61 Park Road