Last week I featured stories written by Michael 'Mickey' Folland. He grew up in Pembroke and his stories paint a nostalgic picture of what a kid's life was like way back for those of us now in our senior years! I am thankful to him for sending us all these old tales which I have illustrated with photographs from our collection.

This is what our society is all about - collecting your memories, your photographs, your stories to share with the community at large. And many thanks to the Pembroke and Pembroke Dock Observer for giving us the opportunity, through this newspaper, to publish them.

Further Adventures of a Young Pembroke Boy By Mickey Folland

Serial Time at Haggar's Cinema

Monday evening was cinema time - all the youngsters sitting well towards the front, not too interested in the main feature film, but waiting to see the adventures and narrow escapes of Flash Gordon against his Arch Enemy Emperor Ming. This particular Monday, the main film was called 'Deadmans' Eyes' where the hero, who had rinsed his eyes in an eye bath with a solution - (unknown to him) of acid. Naturally, he was blinded, and eventually he had the eyes of a dead man implanted. The dead man was a murderer, and the hero who received these eyes kept getting flashbacks of murders that the dead man had committed - so frighteningly terrifying, that several of us boys quickly escaped the horror of the silver screen and ran full pelt down to the safety of The Mill Pond for some relief from the horrors of this gruesome film. We all returned to Haggar's Cinema after a long spell, hoping that this film had ended so that we could enjoy Flash Gordon getting the better of Emperor Ming and the 'Clay people'.

I had never been so frightened in all my life by 'Deadmans' Eyes', so much so, that it led to fearsome nightmares. Certainly not a film to watch. Nonetheless, I still returned to the cinema the following Monday to see the Flash Gordon serial, using his skilful powers against Emperor Ming - 'Deadmans' Eyes' by this time was just a passing memory!!

Foonote: If anyone is brave enough to watch the film 'Deadmans' Eyes', it was made in 1944 by Universal Pictures, and starred Lon Chaney Jnr,  Jean Parker and Paul Kelly. Hope this will tickle someone's imagination! I won't watch it, that's for sure! Ha! ha!     

Wireless Accumulators

In the days of wireless - long before it was called a radio, it didn't operate from the electricity mains, but by a 'wet battery' known as an accumulator. Every 10 days or so, the accumulator lost its charge, so it was my duty to carry  this battery, already in a metal carrier, down to Mr. Jermin, who also ran a bicycle shop in the Main Street. At the rear of the shop, there were some workshops where large glass jars, or carboys, were used for containing distilled water which was used to top up these glass batteries, and then putting them on charge for 24 hours. However, when a battery ran out of power, a fully charged one was exchanged for it at a cost of just sixpence (two and a half pence in to-days money).

Saturday mornings were very special days for listening to all the weeks' episodes of 'Dick Barton Special Agent' with his two accomplices Jock and Snowy. How many would remember the other detective series introduced by 'The Coronation Express' overture, known as 'Send for Paul Temple' with his female partner Steve?.....and just six pence for all that entertainment, certainly Good Value For Money.

Pembroke Cubs Unit

Another one of my friends was the late Derek Wrench, whose mother ran the local cub unit, of which I became an enthusiastic member. I recall Mrs. Wrench asking me to run an errand for her and to purchase a packet of Craven "A" corked tipped cigarettes from the local shop next to 'Beasley's' - I think it was Mrs. Jenkins's shop. However, when I got to the counter I had forgotten what Mrs. Wrench had asked me to buy for her, so I just said 'a packet of Players Airmen, please', which was just a pack of tobacco that one rolled their own cigarettes. The lady assistant, looking at me very oddly, asked me who it was for? So naturally I replied that it was for Mrs. Wrench. "Oh!" she replied, "she only smokes Craven 'A'corked tipped cigarettes. Phew! Was I relieved that she knew Mrs. Wrench's brand. I was over the moon on receiving congratulations from our Cub Mistress when I returned with the correct order. Trust the Cubs to win through on such a difficult task!

Just as an add on to the above.....smoking is something that all young boys want to try, so my dearest pal John Colley and I toured a part of the town picking up several good sized cigarette butts, and, armed with about three matches borrowed from home, we disappeared into the rear grounds of St. Michaels' Church, climbed a stout tree overlooking the Mill Pond, and very soon was puffing away on the first discarded butt that we had found. How quickly our laughing faces changed to that of anguish: our enthusiasm for smoking diminished on becoming violently sick and we were left wondering how grown ups are able to smoke without any ill effects. I still don't smoke today after that salutary experience. How some people can say: "You'll feel better after a fag'. Ugh...

The Wall

of Death

Going back several decades, I recall being taken to see the famous 'Wall of Death' at Pembroke's Michaelmas Fair (Oct 10 which then lasted for 10 days) through the Main Street of the town. I can remember one rider on a motor cycle and sidecar circling the wooden tower with what appeared to be a drugged and mangy lion propped up in the sidecar, and every so often the rider would lean across and nudge the poor lion with his elbow to encourage the beast to bellow out a mighty roar- only to slump back down into the sidecar to continue its spiral journey to the end of the performance still in its drugged state. The cost for this unfortunate and unforgettable spectacle was 3d (three old pence). On completion of this motorcycle show, the riders (minus the lion of course) would retire across the road to The York public house to wet their insatiable appetites in readiness for the next 'exciting' performance. Would they get away with it in today's world? I think not!

Finally,

Bath Night

Every Sunday evening was bath night. Not in a posh purpose made bathroom as we have today, but in the kitchen in a zinc bath, which used to hang up on a nail in the wall outside the back door. Mother would boil up several buckets full of water on the gas stove, and fill this bath up to a satisfactory level. First in was mother, when she was cleansed, my sister took the second dip - then came my turn, with soap scum lining the top of the bath, the water gradually cooling so no long soaks as we enjoy today. Last one in was the dog!

The hardest part of bath night was the emptying of the zinc bath - a bucketful at a time until it could be dragged to the back door, and tipping the remainder of the water away so that it ran into the outside drain. Then a good wipe out with a clean cloth and then hung up on its nail until the next sabbath's bodily clean up. All this was by gas light.

The wonders of electricity eluded many people at that particular time. Tough times - but quite memorable and enjoyable nonetheless!

                                                                                  That's it folks

Thanks Mickey. I hope everyone enjoyed your stories as much as I did!

Contact

If you have any stories or photographs for this column, please contact me, Linda Asman, on