‘We survived... and thrived’
John Slatford recalls how his family overcame illness and slum housing in the Fifties…
‘Thanks to diphtheria, a pushy mum and an MP, we got a house... and a future’
Iwas born in a back-to-back slum in Birmingham in 1946 – one of the ‘boom babies’ conceived when the menfolk came home from the war. Mum Edie was proud of having me ‘private’. My sister, Susan, arrived with the NHS, so she was free!
Our home had two rooms and was in a yard with five others with communal lavatories. There was no electricity and the lighting was gas. The downstairs room had a fireplace, a stove and a stone sink. There was a small room under the stairs for storing coal and food. It was my job to climb on our rickety table to light the gas lamp. Upstairs was one small bedroom which, once my sister arrived, we all shared.
Mum had a mangle outside for wringing the sheets, a corrugated iron tub called a dolly, and a washboard for scrubbing the cuffs of my dad Frank’s shirts. Dad had a radio that ran off ‘accumulators’ and the first song I remember was Mona Lisa. The tin bath would take pride of place in front of the fire on Friday nights and, with hot water from the brewhouse, we’d take turns in the tub.
I remember having National Dried Egg for breakfast, which was luxury for us, as was a piece of bread with lard. As we could not afford chocolate, another treat was a sheet of newspaper with cocoa and sugar on it. My sister and I contracted diphtheria and were sent to an isolation hospital. We were put in a ward with a steam pipe to help us breathe. I also had TB, though we didn’t know at the time. The upside was cornflakes for breakfast – I’d never tasted them before as they were too expensive for us. Sadly, because diphtheria was contagious, all our toys were burned. And ‘home’, after all, was a slum – the walls were running with damp and the doctor told Mum ‘it was unlikely her children would survive’. But Mum – determined we’d have a future – wrote to Woodrow Wyatt, the local MP, demanding we be moved. Eventually her badgering won, and when I was seven we moved to a council house with electricity! Aged eight, I joined the local Wolf Cubs, where I won badges for tying knots, the Highway Code and First Aid. By 1957 I was a Boy Scout and attended the Jubilee Jamboree in Sutton Park. Boys and girls came from abroad, too, and it was opened by Prince Philip and Lady Baden-Powell. Even the Queen came!
I passed my 11-plus, but chose instead to go to the ‘comp’. At 13, the TB came back, but in a good way! When the school nurse gave me a skin test my wrist came up in a lump. I had a chest X-ray and it showed I’d already had TB – without knowing – and survived! So I was immune. And having had diphtheria, I was immune to that, too.
My academic life soared with the brilliant education I got at Great Barr Comprehensive – one of the first purpose-built ‘comps’ with 11 specialist science laboratories.
From a humble start, I’ve had a fascinating career as an industrial chemist and consultant. Thanks to Mum, Woodrow Wyatt, the NHS and my comp. I hope I’ve done you proud!