Starting work. Nichols and Lewis 1957

21/01/2018

The year was 1957 and I  was 15 years old. My sister had got me a job in a factory located on Tyburn Road, Birmingham as a toolmaker. it was a firm that made a variety of parts in metal; from small components to sumps for lorries.

I had no idea what a toolmaker was or what they did but my dad said that it was the best job in a factory and that I would have a job for the rest of my life. And he was right but I really disliked working there mainly because the person in charge of the section that I worked in was a really aggressive person. And everyone disliked him but most were too frightened to tell him.

I did make some really good friends there, Bobby Moor was two years older than me and so confident that he was never frightened to say what he thought even if it caused problems. He was an excellent footballer and a very fast runner. He did have a major health problem and would on many occasions suffer epileptic fits and collapse on the floor unconscious. The nearest person to him would cradle his head and place a steel rule in his mouth to prevent him biting his own tongue.

John Ward was the same age as Bob but old before his time.  As far as I know, he never did anything spectacular in his life but was absolutely fanatical about trains and spent his weekends driving children around on a small gauge railway in Sutton Park. Bob told him that he was boring and that later in life he would regret not enjoying himself while he was young.  But some people are born old.

Harry Lycet was the firm’s electrician, he was small and stocky had a round face with a complexion that was more suited to a fairground boxer; sort of scuff marks all around the edges and never stopped talking. He squeezed himself into a boiler suit that was far too small and as it was washed every weekend each Monday it shrunk even more. Never really knew how old he was but probably about fifty-five.

Sometime in his life while working on a massive power it had malfunctioned and cut all the fingers off on his right hand. He used to joke about it. and nothing seemed to bother him.

One Monday morning he never turned up for work and we found out later that he had fallen down the stairs and broken his neck dying instantly.

I missed his banter. Funny how sharp some images remain from so long ago and others that you really want to keep don’t.