Number 14 - I grew up there
Number 14, that’s where I lived. My parents bought it when they married in August 1967. My sister and I shared a room with bunk beds. We had Mumps, Measles, and German Measles in this house. When my brother came along my parents converted the attic space and that became my bedroom (the joiner working on it had to do a six month stint in prison, I don’t remember why). We never did paint the grey plastered walls of that space before we moved in 1975.
I almost burned Number 14 down. Must have been late 1970 or early ‘71. Mum ran up the stairs to grab my sister who was crying. We had an open fire, but we also had a “childproof” fire guard around it. Somehow I managed to get hold of the Belfast Telegraph or Observer, had to be one or the other as they were the papers dad read, and started shoving pages through the small gaps in the grill. Smoke damage only. I was terrified of fire for years to come.
I would play with Action Man, Clare would play with Sindy. I would go on top secret missions saving the world and destroy the baddies, often with Andrew who lived in Number 22. We would sit on top of the tank (him) or armoured car (me) and ride down the hill, racing to our next mission. I would go adventures with bunny and teddy too.
I learned to tell the time in Number 14, but it was Number 20 that pushed me to learn. Nina lived in 20. I fancied Nina even though I was only five or six. I wanted to marry Nina, my mum said I had to ask her dad for permission. He said I could if I was able to tell him what time it was … I was motivated. I was back at his house a couple of hours later with it all figured out.
Around 1972 dad came home with a UCAN powder nail gun. He ran a builders merchant, Lowde and Partners (in 1969 he helped the IRA move people out of Bombay St., in 1971 the IRA burned his business down). He was going to show all the neighbours how this nail gun worked as he was going to put a nail in the gate post. Just about blew the gate post up. Big bang. Damage is still there today.
It was in Number 14 that I learned to ride a bike. Gillian, Number 3, taught me. All the kids gathered at the top of the hill. Off I went. I could ride, but I couldn’t stop. Gillian ran after me and caught me just before I was going to crash. She was the best babysitter.
In 1974 mum would boil unpasteurised milk in Number 14. She would fill the bathtub with water in case the water was shut off. It was the Ulster Workers Strike. It was scary when I was wee. Of course there was also the milkman, breadman, fishmonger, and occasionally a rag and bone man would come by. One day Ian Paisley came by campaigning and my dad told him to get lost (he may have used bigger words), my dad’s a good man.
In the summer all the kids would play hide and seek. Numbers 14, 18, 20, 22, 3, 15, and others. Plenty of good hiding places. If you climbed on our coal bunker you could hop the wall to number 16. Hopscotch and Kerby were also popular. I had to go bed before the older kids. I didn’t like that.
Number 14 was a good place to live. Made great by those around us in Hillside Park. Our most famous neighbour lived in number 18. He’s a poet, Michael Longley. Number 12’s dad worked for the BBC, he was in charge of educational programming, Eric Twadell. Number 16 owned Bullicks on the Lisburn Road. Number 20 was Nina, along with Peter and their parents, Elizabeth (my mum’s matron of honour) and Ernie. 22 was the Elliots, Andrew was my friend. I don’t remember the odd numbers so well. 15 was the Smiths, Simon and Genevieve.
My favourite house was Gillian’s, number 3. Gillian is five years older than me and she had an older brother and sister, John and Jane. I liked her parents too, they were kind people.
My seven years at Number 14 were brilliant.
Childhood memories are fun to relive. So much joy in the midst of the early days of the Troubles. Thankfully our part of the city avoided the worst of it.
