Wonkys Short Story,the Blacka.

[wonky]

another reflection from days gone by, offloaded for the writers group and beddys in general...a true story about love.

The Blacka.

Many a happy time was spent in the shadows of the Black Bridge be it throwing stones at the station gangs or just throwing stones in the river. If the tide was in it was all about the biggest splash and if the tide was out it was all about the plop or splat...I was a splatter myself. A great big Mackey rock and splat! My mate Reggie was defiantly a plopper, didn't matter how hard he could chuck a stone it always went plop. If the tide was in it would gan ploop!!

The gang fights that went on in those days, being the late seventies through to the late eighties was just boys being boys, the usual my dad can fight your dad stuff. In them days some of the lads didn't even have dads so that in itself was deffo worth fighting about. I honestly can't remember any one getting hurt; the odd cracked head or burst nose from a lucky shot with a stone is all I remember. We spent more time running away from the station lads and the rest of the time it was us chasing them...someone would all ways end up crying and that would have been a good day.

I was born into this world a mongrel. My dad was pure terrier of the Wood lane breed and mother was from the other side of the tracks being Bebside.I was always destined to be different, I was constantly back and forth over the river throughout my childhood and always in the shadows of the bridge and surrounding woods,,

Granddad Bedlington would often come and get me and my brothers and trail us through the woods as far as Stannington to that massive conker tree and back again for teatime. We might pop in to an aunties along the way back for some pop and biscuits. The days were long then, as you get older you get more sense, I would never dream of walking so far these days, especially with three kids full of questions. He was a mighty man though and his kindness and stories bode me well.

Granddad Bebside was a different cookie altogether, one time at the allotments by the old Bebside reservoir we went off for a walk along the tracks towards the Black bridge and came across a gang of station lads on our side. I was a bit nervous and Granddad chased them back with stones from the tracks so I'm guessing that my stone throwing is hereditary. "Bliddy Bedlintoners" he was saying to me. I could never work that one out but had to agree for some strange reason.

By the time I was about fourteen or fifteen Bedlington girls were looking pretty good to me and I was often found lurking around the Blacka, girls would come down from the station or Bank top estates to play on the swing. That was usually the start of the fighting. It was our swing on our side of the river and not to be shared with Bedlington. The lasses could have a go if they waited their turn but when their lads showed up all hell would break loose and someone would end up going home to tell their brothers. Whatever it was about the Bedlington lasses in their bananarama garb ,.though they were fine they were just as hard as their lads and would turn on you in an instant. All buddy old pal one minute and splitting ya heed with rocks the next.

The Blacka swing was mighty though. Either from the rock or the girders. One swing oot then the call for boarders, before you knew it there might be ten hanging on to that swing, or somebody's jumper or trouser leg. If it hurt it was more of a ride. If you fell off or the odd time it snapped you were a hero. If it snapped and you hit the brambles it was the funniest thing in the world. If there was blood it would be talked about for the whole summer.

Years ago there was an old tugboat that had been towed up the river and tied up just at the other side of the Blue Bridge. Well we went along one day and robbed the rope off it and built the best swing ever, The rope was as thick as your arm and took about ten of us to drag it.in all it took about two days to get it into the bridge and drop the swing but it lasted for years. The railway men couldn't even shift it. Too much effort. In the end the railway men burnt it and even then it was more difficult than they had anticipated.

In the summer months we would often traipse through the Hapenny woods to Bobby Pringles and rob his apples and pears. Not just a few but as many as was possible to carry. Bulging lumpy jumpers. This meant as well as running the gauntlet with the station lads you also had the added thrill that you might actually get shot. Bobby had a shot gun and he wasn't afraid to use it. That poor bloke was tormented by us and it is now that I am older and wiser that I really feel for that bloke. He's long dead now god rest him and if I ever get the chance to meet him in the afterlife he can have all my puddings, that's for sure. Times were hard enough in the eighties without having to deal with some yobs trampling and stealing your crops.

We would take the robbed fruit to the bridge and just throw them at each other. It wasn't very often that the fruit would be ripe enough to enjoy although some of the Bebside kids actually did eat them, but in hindsight. They were probably starving.

One time he actually caught me in his orchard, dragged me into the house to phone the police. I was crapping myself. I was probably ten or twelve at the time. He got the full info from me, who I was, where I was from. Who my grandparents were and sent me off home with a turnip for me Granddad. A while later me Grandma Bebside gave me two pence and sent me back up for another. Off we went to the garden and he gave me a few strawberries and sent me back off with a turnip. Granny Bebside was telling me that he used to drink with my granddad at the club. It was all part of the lesson I was being taught. Trips to the orchard were not as frequent after that and the dark nights were rolling in. It was back to the Blacka for a swing as Bobby Pringles was too far to go on a school night.

Years later in the dead of night during the time I was smitten with this lass from the rows, I climbed the bridge and painted a slavvery love message right across the middle. Six foot high lettering, BUNGO LUVS LUVBUG, right across the whole width of the river for all to see. You could even read it from the road bridge. How cool was I eh? About a month later it was all over after her dad tried to kill me. There was a little meeting with the two families that we weren't invited to, more cups of tea and a ginger biscuit later and she was dragged back to the other side of the river never to be seen again. Untill the top club disco anyways.

Months later the graffiti was still there. And months after that, and even more months after that, .There was no getting away from the fact that Bungo loves Luvbug, and that was that. By the time the painters came I had moved on and grown up, though the bridge has been painted a few times since, whenever I return to Bedlington on family visits I can still see the stain. It will always be there where I left it. No black paint in the world can cover up the love I had for Luvbug and the happy times had in those shadows under the bridge.

Jesus. Is that the time?...

[Maggie/915]

Maybe your life could warrant the Hollywood treatment!

Unfortunately Tony Scott not available you will have to settle for Ridley.

[Symptoms]

But who would play our Wonk?

Suggestions please:

[Maggie/915]

Robson Green!

Think the man himself must choose.

Maybe a comedian Ross Noble.

[wonky]

Robson Green!

Think the man himself must choose.

Maybe a comedian Ross Noble.

lol..ross noble is cool though a little on the plump side...robson green ARRRAGH !!..he gets on my goat that bloke..wandering round the world wavin his northumberland flag and pretendin to be a serious fisherman..its a wonder he catches anyting at all with all that screaming on like a big girls blouse..he really is a bloke that is up himself...once he was at the garage on the roundabout at bebside trying to push in the queue for petrol..driving his fancy mercedes benz..my mate gary wasnt having any of it and put him right.." just coz your robson green a\nd all the women are swooning after you dosnt mean you can jump the queue for petrol...coming down here from your fancy bungalow up woodhorn or where ever you come from""" and so on.

priceless i can tell you..he went a bit red in the face and signed an autograph for some swooners and went off on his way..with out petrol..lol,,

[Maggie/915]

He lives nearer than Woodhorn!

A friend from Bebside has been on that bridge.

I had no idea that there were tunnels, that the authorities had tried to block off.

Seems really dangerous, maybe I have self preservation head of my list of priorities.

[Symptoms]

I think it would be a toss-up between Jimmy Nail or Kenneth Williams.

[keith lockey]

Loved the Black Bridge story, Wonky, but can I ask you which school you went to in Blyth? I was at the Bedlington Woody School - then it got burned down and we all got shipped to Princess Louise Road - enemy territory. Fortunately PLR was always at war with St, Wilfreds across the road so there was very little interaction between us and Blyth PLR pupils. I remember one day we were playing football in the break when there was a cavalry charge of St Wilfreders. They came hurtling across the road and into the play area where they were met by Blyth PLR repellers. Us Bedlington lads were like umpires at a tennis match. We stared with open mouths at the mayhem around us, not knowing who was who in the ensuing melee. Then the bell went and everyone retreated to their corners. Mindboggling.

Edited June 22, 2013 by keith lockey

[wonky]

Loved the Black Bridge story, Wonky, but can I ask you which school you went to in Blyth? I was at the Bedlington Woody School - then it got burned down and we all got shipped to Princess Louise Road - enemy territory. Fortunately PLR was always at war with St, Wilfreds across the road so there was very little interaction between us and Blyth PLR pupils. I remember one day we were playing football in the break when there was a cavalry charge of St Wilfreders. They came hurtling across the road and into the play area where they were met by Blyth PLR repellers. Us Bedlington lads were like umpires at a tennis match. We stared with open mouths at the mayhem around us, not knowing who was who in the ensuing melee. Then the bell went and everyone retreated to their corners. Mindboggling.

aye thats blyth for you..hit first questions later..that was all enemy teritory for me too..i went to bebside and then on to tynedale..guess i was one of the lucky ones because the girls all fancied me with my lief garret looks and i was most of the time fast enough to avoid any bullying...there was a few occasions i tried bullying myself but didnt have much luck at it if the truth be known..it was always an adventure though when some new lass from blyth would move schools and end up having to sit next to me as a punnishment..i was always the one who would have to give the tour and hand out the pencils ect. bebside had a great history buzz about it and it was a subject i was keen on..the teachers were a little on the mental side bordering sadistic but anyone who showed an interest would be of no trouble to them and treated with respect.. "god help the thickos the teacher would say"

tynedale was a place i had to go and was a difrent buzz altogether..fierce competition for the ladies..growing pains and sprouting hair in wierd places..teachers looked good and hormones were raging..we had one teacher who was a total fantasy..one who would wear a difrent colour tights and dangle her shoes in a provocative manner every day, a bloke who was so badly pock marked he was called crater face or pitsa face and a gay teacher who was really understanding and cool...just dont go round to his house the lady teachers would say..lol

aye...bebside..half terrier..pure mongrell..oh happy days..

[keith lockey]

It's funny that, Wonky, because all teachers at that time must have been the same. We had sados as well - woodwork and metal work teachers - who would take great delight in telling you what would happen to your hands, fingers or other parts if you got them caught in the machines. We had a maths teacher who could throw a blackborad duster at you with the skill of an aboriginal boomerang champion. We, too, had our weirdos and cool guys and an RK (?) teacher who made certain parts of your body react in ways which were new. As for bullying...I must admit I never saw any of it. But that might have been because we were tranferred to PLR and we all bonded together against a common foe. But the best bit were always the school trips - Allenheads then Howtel, the latter up near Wooler and Coldstream. Oh joyous memories.

Edited June 22, 2013 by keith lockey

[wonky]

It's funny that, Wonky, because all teachers at that time must have been the same. We had sados as well - woodwork and metal work teachers - who would take great delight in telling you what would happen to your hands, fingers or other parts if you got them caught in the machines. We had a maths teacher who could throw a blackborad duster at you with the skill of an aboriginal boomerang champion. We, too, had our weirdos and cool guys and an RK (?) teacher who made certain parts of your body react in ways which were new. As for bullying...I must admit I never saw any of it. But that might have been because we were tranferred to PLR and we all bonded together against a common foe. But the best bit were always the school trips - Allenheads then Howtel, the latter up near Wooler and Coldstream. Oh joyous memories.

smelly nelly..twice a week, couldnt wait for RK..there she was all yellow or blue and dangling well..lol..i was for ever dropping me pencil and it was certanly full of lead in those days..as for wood work and metal work..the teachers must have all went to the same collage..one fella would say.." god gave us ears for two reasons, ones for listening and the other is for twisting when your not listening"..he`d then pick you up by the ear and drag you round the room..(in most cases it was me)...and truth be known i probably had it coming..one night after school after a brutal lesson ,my self and trhis lad fawky who was a right bad lad broke into the school woodwork room and stole the cash box that was for the job money..13 quid in coins and we bought loads of fireworks..it was an absolute fortune..not content with that i climbed on the desk and did a really nice poo in the top drawer and off we went..monday..first lesson was woodwork and the police came in..had a look round..had a good look at me and fawky lad and went out...moments later the caretaker came in and proceeded to empty out the drawer with a little coal shovel and some sawdust..we were crying inside and could not look at each other..lol

i can still see it clear as day,,30 odd yrs later..gas..

usually at this point i would appologise but sadly it was a case of sweet revenge and what gos around comes around..i hold my hand up now..lol

school trips were a gas too..the on nature walks the pervy teachers would open a gate for the lads and make the lasses climb over..we all knew what they were at just too young to understand..there was always some poor kid that had nowt for packed lunch and couldnt afford the vindolanda pencils and would usually discrase the school by stealing one and the most vivid memory is there was always a girl sick on the bus..thats one thing you dont forget..this girl deborah was sick next to me and i can only describe what came out as dried white dog poo in a watery gravey..i can still see it..30 odd years later clear as day..

all those teachers who said id regret being a fool and playing the clown..were wrong..i ended up in ireland working for the circus as a welder and saw the world..if i met the sadist teachers now that im all grown up...well...i`d probably pleasure them..

[keith lockey]

Thoroughly sympathise with you regarding woodwork & metalwork teachers. I could never understand why that Jewish Nazi hunter, Simon Weisenthal, went to South America to look for escaped gestapo leaders. He should have come to our school, they were all hiding there. But a few things I remember about school trips was one teacher who used to wake everybody up by playing the bagpipes.

Then one day we were at Howtel, (I think it was there!) and we were all having breakfast in preperation for a days outing. Well I decided I needed to do a number 2 before we went. So i rushed to the loo and did what was necessary. When I returned to the main building there was no one to be seen - it was like a spacship had come down and whisked everybody away. I was young and started to get a bit scared, I was last man standing, the Omega Man, Charlton Heston, the only living human left on the planet. All around me was empty fields and lowlands. BUT...behind the outward bound centre there was this hill. So I vaguely remembered from watching the old B-movie westerns that you had to get to high ground. So I climbs up this hill and lo and behold below me was a huge quarry and all my mates were in there looking for fossils and gems and what have you.

But the scariest thing that ever happened was down at Allenheads. We were walking through this field, heading towards some burial mound, when I saw all these shiny objects lying in the grass. I bent down and picked up a gun shell. The bl..dy field was used as a shooting range by the Army. Then we got to this burial mound - a lump of stones built into the shape of a cairn, and the teacher is giving us the history of it. For some reason I turned round and there coming through the grass was an adder...and I don't mean Carol Vorderman or a mathematician. This thing was scaly and slithering and it was about ten feet from me. I shouted "SNAKE" and leapt onto this ancient burial cairn (high ground again). All my mates were trying to get ontop as well but there wasn't enough room. Now one thing should be written in stone - don't try to dislodge a Lockey from high ground when there is a snake in the grass. I was punching and kicking and elbowing anybody who came near, regardless of rank and file. There is one thing I did learn from that field trip; always pack a spare pair of underpants. Another episode revolved around a field with a derelict farmhouse at the centre, and a herd of cows. Picture the Benny Hill theme - when he is getting chased. Us intrepid explorers were trapsing across this field when this herd of cows comes galloping towards us. We stepped up the pace and the cows stepped up their gait. We started to canter and the cows followed suit. In the end it was a mad dash for this open window. Have you ever seen eight schoolboys trying to dive through the same window at the same time - carrying haversacks full of packed lunches. CHAOS. Utter chaos. I was on the shrinks couch for ten years after that little jaunt. Where's me valium; where's my mates Johnny Walker and Jack Daniels.

Edited June 22, 2013 by keith lockey

[John Fox (foxy)]

Was Walker and Daniels with you when you wrote this Keith?

Edited June 23, 2013 by foxy

[Malcolm Robinson]

I am just thinking………….people pay dammed good money to lie on a trickcyclist's couch and spout forth all their pent up frustrations and admit to things they have stuffed into the very bottom recess of their subconsciousness. If it starts getting Freudian………….

Maybe we should be charging a fee for the cathartic exercises going on here?

Not sure about the statute of limitations neither!

[keith lockey]

Was Walker and Daniels with you when you wrote this Keith?

No, it was their night off, a nice chap called Jim Beam popped round.

Malcolm - Madame Tussauds - she has some imitation statues...er...that is what you said wasn't it?

What's that nurse, time for my medicine, it may make me dopey, you say, well it's better than being Grumpy or Sneezy? No, I'm not Bashfull, what's that, I may feel a little prick!!! Ooh matron.

Edited June 23, 2013 by keith lockey

[John Fox (foxy)]

No, it was their night off, a nice chap called Jim Beam popped round.

Very good, move to the top of the Class Lockey!!! :)

[Symptoms]

Wonk wrote: "...with my lief garret looks ..." Nah! That can't be right ... it's got to be Kenneth Williams.

[wonky]

http://youtu.be/Hihp_Jjdnsglol symptoms..no..it was deffo lief garret..all the lasses were gagging for him and i was a cheap alternative..sadly a one hit wonder too..http://youtu.be/Hihp_Jjdnsg Edited June 23, 2013 by wonky

[keith lockey]

Wonky, did you know any of the Bebside Clarks? There were three brothers, Derry, Ronnie & Brian. They are cousins of mine.

I've never seen any of them for years, to be honest I don't even know if they live around here anymore.

[wonky]

Wonky, did you know any of the Bebside Clarks? There were three brothers, Derry, Ronnie & Brian. They are cousins of mine.

I've never seen any of them for years, to be honest I don't even know if they live around here anymore.

nah ... me mother was telling me on skype that there was a stevie clark had the bebside garage years ago who had three sons but he died years ago apparently..dont know if thats a relative but just in case ..sorry for your loss..lol..'theres not much about bebside me mother dont know and if she dont it will be her buisness to find out..

[keith lockey]

nah ... me mother was telling me on skype that there was a stevie clark had the bebside garage years ago who had three sons but he died years ago apparently..dont know if thats a relative but just in case ..sorry for your loss..lol..'theres not much about bebside me mother dont know and if she dont it will be her buisness to find out..

Funny enough the father was called Stevie Clark, the mother was Ada, but there was no connection to the garage, Stevie was a miner at Bates, he was also on Bebside Club Committee I believe. It was just a passing thought, as I said, none of us kept in touch so I don't know where anyone is anymore.

Edited June 24, 2013 by keith lockey

[wonky]

Funny enough the father was called Stevie Clark, the mother was Ada, but there was no connection to the garage, Stevie was a miner at Bates, he was also on Bebside Club Committee I believe. It was just a passing thought, as I said, none of us kept in touch so I don't know where anyone is anymore.

oh yeah..that stevie..(the money was resting in my account)..bebside welfare was know to us either as billy baldys or the testical ward..most of the fellas had had testicals removed and it was usually the topic of conversation.

finaly closed its doors a few weeks ago..sure could tell some tales about the club and its resident drinkers and some that didnt drink..in fact...if there had been more people drinking it would still be open..think stevie was from axwell drive god bless him and save him...

[keith lockey]

oh yeah..that stevie..(the money was resting in my account)..bebside welfare was know to us either as billy baldys or the testical ward..most of the fellas had had testicals removed and it was usually the topic of conversation.

finaly closed its doors a few weeks ago..sure could tell some tales about the club and its resident drinkers and some that didnt drink..in fact...if there had been more people drinking it would still be open..think stevie was from axwell drive god bless him and save him...

Sorry, Wonky,I got the wrong club, it was Cowpen Club, not Bebside. The Clarks originally lived behind Briardale. (I actually thought it was Briardale but my bro says otherwise.) They then moved to Weirdale. Sorry for confusion. It's the old age that does it.