Some old pictures of the tough living conditions many Mancunians endured in the sixties and early seventies. I was brought up in Hulme until 1965 and remember those old terrace houses, though I never recollect them being this bad.
https://britanniachronicles.cafex.b...ibWxoWTJoeWIyNXBZMnhsY3k1allXWmxlQzVpYVhvPQ==
The brand new hutches in the sky they built to replace the ghettoes, at least they weren't clad in flammable plastic, they fell to bits instead. Those rehoused on council estates built in the thirties lost the "community spirit" but gained such luxuries as gardens and hot and cold water, the lucky ones even got decent public transport. Those that didn't were isolated, with strangers as neighbours, and very few local shops. The council's response to complaints "think yourself lucky", and outsourced the maintenance and construction dept, already a byword for late and shoddy repairs, added a brown envelope culture of grift and corruption.Some old pictures of the tough living conditions many Mancunians endured in the sixties and early seventies. I was brought up in Hulme until 1965 and remember those old terrace houses, though I never recollect them being this bad.
https://britanniachronicles.cafex.b...ibWxoWTJoeWIyNXBZMnhsY3k1allXWmxlQzVpYVhvPQ==
The brand new hutches in the sky they built to replace the ghettoes, at least they weren't clad in flammable plastic, they fell to bits instead. Those rehoused on council estates built in the thirties lost the "community spirit" but gained such luxuries as gardens and hot and cold water, the lucky ones even got decent public transport. Those that didn't were isolated, with strangers as neighbours, and very few local shops. The council's response to complaints "think yourself lucky", and outsourced the maintenance and construction dept, already a byword for late and shoddy repairs, added a brown envelope culture of grift and corruption.
Great pictures Paul, for some reason it's the lads playing cricket which is my favourite.
Playing out meant playing out :)
Innocent days I remember they were and everybody looked out for each other. It seems crazy looking back but nobody shut their front doors when popping out to the shops, in fact they were often left wide open. Nobody really had anything so it was pointless anybody robbing others.
We had no bathroom. We washed in the kitchen sink and a bath was a tin one in front of an open fire. Outside toilet in the back yard. Two bedrooms, a tiny kitchen, a small living room and a parlour. Lots of smog in winter from all the industry belching out smoke. I remember going to school and you literally couldn't see in front of your nose and we wore a smog mask that quickly became filthy with soot.
In spite of all that we were happy.
Them were the days.Formica kitchen tops, inside toilets, pantry cupboards that were not infested with silverfish and blackjacks.
I remember the move top posh accommodation saw the end to the real bonfire night, no more setting fire to everyone's back gates on a huge croft with the rest of the people who lived near you.
We moved to Wythenshawe and it was like winning the pools. A front and back garden, bathroom, indoor toilet and a bedroom each. Greens out front where we played as kids.
We were the same in Openshaw when we moved in the summer of 1975 due to the old slum clearance. We had an inside toilet for the first time and a bath instead of a tin bath in front of the coal fire. Carpet instead of oil cloth and my own bedroom. Like you say it was like winning the pools.We moved to Wythenshawe and it was like winning the pools. A front and back garden, bathroom, indoor toilet and a bedroom each. Greens out front where we played as kids.