Tony Cunnane's Early Years 1935-53

Grandfather Winter died in our house in Cotton Street in July 1945, after VE Day but before VJ Day. He had lived with us since Grandma had died in May 1942.

I came down to breakfast one morning to find Mum crying and Dad comforting her. Dad took me to one side and explained that Grandfather had died peacefully during the night and that I should leave Mum alone for a while. I was desperately sad because Grandfather and I had got on so well together, not least because of the fascinating stories he used to tell me about his years on the LMS railway.

Although I did not know it then, Grandfather had suffered a stroke some weeks before his death. I had noticed that he had become very forgetful and his speech was impaired. He had tended to repeat himself quite a lot, especially when reminiscing. Grandfather was buried on 31 July in the family plot in Hunslet Cemetery, just a stone’s throw away from the home on Westbury Terrace he and his wife had lived in all their married life. My sister and I were deemed too young to attend the funeral. We stayed at home and one of our kindly neighbours looked after us for the day.

The death of Grandfather, and the end of the war in Europe, brought many changes to our family’s life. The main one that affected my sister and me was that we no longer had to share either a bed or a bedroom although, thoughtfully, my parents let a few weeks pass before I was told that I would be moving into the bedroom vacated by Grandfather and that I would, for the first time have a bed of my own. Another change was that the family could now go away for a week’s holiday in Blackpool.

We went by train from Wakefield Kirkgate station one Saturday morning in September 1945. My image on the right shows a Northern Rail service from Leeds to Sheffield departing from Wakefield Kirkgate’s platform 2 at 0732 on 21 March 2008. It has almost reached the point where passengers sitting on the right could see our former family home in Cotton Street.

We were there early to beat the queues at the booking office – I remember that the total return fare for the four of us came to less than £1. By the time the lengthy non-corridor excursion train pulled into platform number 2 from the sidings, there was a seething throng of folk waiting to board. There was no unseemly pushing and shoving and eventually everyone was seated. In any case, one of the platform porters shouted out at regular intervals that there was another ‘relief’ train leaving for Blackpool in a few minutes.

There were, as I recall, at least eight people crammed into our 6-seat compartment. Mum and Dad had controlled my liquid intake at breakfast and warned me to go to the toilet before leaving home because there would be no toilets on the train. I was happy to stand by the window on the side opposite the door and my sister sat on Dad’s knee. I was on the right hand side by choice because I knew that a few seconds after leaving Kirkgate we would pass by our house at the end of the Cotton Street and I wanted to see what it looked like from that angle.

The train ride was a source of wonder to me. There were no station stops – everyone was going to Blackpool and there were no seats left anyway. There were frequent stops for signals – presumably when our service had to give priority to normal scheduled services. We eventually arrived late morning at Blackpool Central station, one of three. Blackpool North and South stations still survive in 2008 but Central station has long since disappeared and a large, and it has to be said sorely needed, car park now stands on the land it once occupied very close to Blackpool Tower.

There were lots of very long platforms – platforms in the literal sense of the word. There was nothing on the platforms, no seats, no vending machines, no shelters, no rubbish, nothing. Several platforms were already occupied with empty trains while even as we trooped towards the exit more trains were arriving by the minute. It seemed to me as though the whole country was coming to Blackpool. I discovered a week later, when our holiday was over, most of those trains would stand on the platforms empty until after midday when returning holiday makers started their weary trek homewards.

My image above shows a Northern Rail service from Leeds to Sheffield departing from Wakefield Kirkgate’s platform 2 at 0732 on 21 March 2008. It has almost reached the point where passengers sitting on the right could see our former family home in Cotton Street.

The image above, taken in 2008, shows Wakefield Kirkgate station looking towards Leeds. Platform 1 on the left is where we alighted after our return from Blackpool, while part of platform 2 is on the right. The station is now unmanned and in a sadly delapidated condition

The exterior of Wakefield Kirkgate station. Not only are the splendid station buildings now in a sorry state of repair, but so is the surrounding neighbourhood. However the station is still well-used by passengers for Leeds (15 minutes away), Barnsley (15 minutes), Sheffield (40 minutes) and Huddersfield, Brighouse and Halifax (change for Blackpool) on the old Elland Line. Trains run every 30 minutes on many of those routes. From January 2009 there is, additionally, an hourly service through to Nottingham.