The threat / promise of a hard winter ahead, prompted a couple of our members to relate tales
of their experiences in the winter of 1963, both relating to cars and snow…
The long way home
Roy York
Riding around on a motor-scooter in the fifties when at school was all very well, but when I went to college in Winchester a journey of 120 miles each way, especially in winter, was quite another matter.
Even in the 1960s Winchester was a very busy city and a Lambretta scooter was an ideal way of getting around quickly and avoiding the queuing cars, lorries and buses. However, as winter approached riding a motor-scooter one hundred and twenty miles back to Irthlingborough on a cold Friday evening was not a very pleasant experience. After one such journey I decided that enough was enough and on the following morning presented myself in Frank Cook’s showroom at Broad Green in Wellingborough and exchanged my scooter for the latest craze in motorised transport – a bubble car!
The only problem was that I had never driven a car and certainly did not hold a licence which allowed me to do so. That was quickly solved – the reverse gear was blocked off and the vehicle then legally fell into the same class as a motor bike or scooter. Not being able to reverse proved no problem as the thing was light enough to be pushed, shoved or manoeuvred around in any direction. Neither did the fact that I didn’t know how to drive it cause any consternation to furrow Mr Cook’s brow – he simply sent me off with his son to Hardwick Road for my first lesson.
Thankfully, the Mad Mile in those days was not the racing circuit ‘straight’ for those trying to drive as fast as they could towards Sywell as it is today and having explained the mysteries of accelerator, clutch and gear-lever my instructor invited me to have a go myself. One or two ‘kangaroo jumps’ to start with, but I soon began to get the hang of things, so much so that I was told that no further instruction was necessary and off we went to the showrooms to tidy up the financial arrangements. Then I was handed the keys and wished ‘a safe journey’ to Irthlingborough!
My real test came the following afternoon when I set off, alone, to return to Winchester. I do not think that a three hour journey has ever seemed as long as that one did. Thankfully, in those days lorries were seldom seen on the roads on Sundays and the majority of family trips out with granny seemed to avoid the main roads – even so I was mighty glad to reach my destination just before darkness fell as no one had shown me how to switch on the lights, and I certainly had no desire to stop and find out for myself. I just wanted to get there!
It was great while it lasted. A novelty vehicle which was cheap to run and easy to manoeuvre, but it was not to last. In January 1963 the snow lay deep, and crisp and even all over England, including the roads. No mad dash by gritting lorries and ploughs to keep those vital routes of communication open in those days and great reliance seemed to be placed on the movement of lorries to keep the snow and slush at bay and off the road surface. This seemed to work at the time, but one Monday morning when I set out from home to return to Winchester I soon discovered that the lorries, with four wheels, had cut two furrows through the snow and ice. This was fine for four-wheeled vehicles who could easily follow in them. No so for a bubble car with three wheels! The front two easily fitted into the furrows but the single wheel at the back was riding over packed ice, some nine or so inches higher.
How I got as far as the Oxford bypass I shall never know, but when I did the rear wheel hit some deeper ice, the car tilted forward and flipped upside down and there it remained. Thankfully some lorry drivers had seen the catastrophe and came to help. The bubble car had a sun roof which I was told to open and to keep quite still, not easy when one is upside down, whilst the drivers lifted the vehicle off me. One of their number then drew his empty lorry forward, the bubble car was unceremoniously lifted onto it, and off we went into the city to seek out a garage which could carry out the necessary repairs. I then completed my journey on a Royal Blue Coach (remember them and Associated Motorways?) the driver of which had no difficulty in guiding his wheels along the furrows in the snow.
No, a bubble car was not really for me and it was not long before I passed my Driving Test and bought my first four wheeled car, a brand new mini and I even got change out of £475. Yes, with four wheels now I would be ready for the next time deep snow covered the land.
A Christmas Carol ( with a difference)
Hark the Herald angels sing
Beechams pills are just the thing
Two for an adult, one for a child,
Half for a baby meek and mild.
If you want to go to heaven, you must take at least eleven
If you want to go to hell you must eat the box as well
Hark the Herald angels sing
Beechams pills are just the thing!!.
Jean Rowland tells the story of their first car, purchased before the winter snows of 1963 set in. It would prove to be a good investment!
They don’t make ’em like they used to…
Jean Rowland
Our house in Windmill Road was the only one with a garage but as we didn’t have a car to put in it, the garage stayed empty for a couple of years.
Then we heard that Terry Marshall had a car for sale. It looked too good a bargain to miss- (under £40)
No MOT was needed in those days so, even though it listed to the left quite a bit we bought it..
Terry threw in four cushions which we had on the back seat, what luxury! And didn’t we enjoy our new lifestyle.?
Then came that really awful winter of 1963, one of the worst on record.
Due to the ice and drifting snow we were unable to get the car into the garage so we were forced to leave it out on the street exposed to the elements!
Our hearts sank each time we turned into Windmill Road. There it was, covered in snow, ice and more snow – our listing car looked a sorry sight. We thought it was goodbye to us ever using that car again.
When the thaw set in we scraped the remainder of the snow away, thawed out the door lock, popped the key in the ignition and hey presto – it started almost straight away. We couldn’t believe our ears when we heard the engine chugging away. We had many more outings after that in the old car. Good old reliable Ford.
In 1935 it was reported that a full Christmas dinner was given for 50 tramps at the Hostel on the A6 (known as the Tramps Palace) Word must have spread as the following report was published a few years later when the number had risen to 140 for the Christmas meal plus a general increase in the number of “visitors”
Get them digging
It seems that in the early 1940’s the Public Assistance Board became concerned at the number of “hoboes” seeking shelter in Northampton and felt that this was because of the closure of many casual wards in the area and because Irthlingborough Casual Ward now required “visitors” to do digging in return for a meal and a bed.
It was reported in the Wellingborough News that Councillor G.Clayson suggested that “milestone inspectors” should be given the job of digging on the Spencer estate. This he said should soon minimise the numbers using Northampton Casual ward.!!
Compiled by Dorothy Brawn for Irthlingborough Historical Society
Thank you for reading our Newsletter, we hope you found it of interest. And we welcome your comments.