“The Wolsey Warriors stood guard beside The Rusty Blackbird, an ancient pub and the only establishment on Wolsey Road. The Wolsey Warriors were Ian Pepper, Stu Desmond, Sid McKenzie, and Halsey Heath. Wiff saw the Warriors look up. He was on full alert when the gang crossed the street to intercept them.”
When we were kids we’d fight with gangs from neighboring streets. One summer evening a battle commenced with name calling. A ruffian threw a rock, we grabbed stones and chucked them back. It was getting dark and I could hear my mum calling me in for dinner. I turned to go and a rock flew out from the darkness and split open my upper lip. The scar is still there. Those were the good old days when we battled with sticks and stones!
Can you retrieve your childhood memories? Mine this treasure trove for writing ideas. Do you have photographs? Stare at them and let stories take shape in your mind.
When the streets of London turned mean, I retreated to the backyard of 7 Wolsey Road. It was a refuge. Ivy-covered brick walls enclosed a very small patch of dirt, but to me it could have been as vast as the Scottish moors. Dirty George and I played cops and robbers, cowboys and Indians. We staged rocket launches, plotted army movements, built dirt castles. This is a photo of me tooling around in my first car. I loved that car. I wish I still had it. It was a convertible.
“A little nonsense is cherished by the wisest man.” One of my favorite Roald Dahl quotes.
Filed under: biographical on April 7th, 2010