Where do you come from.

david hobbs · Where do you come from.

I don't mean where do you come from in the spiritual sense but rather where were you born and do you think that your childhood made you what you are today be it nice or nasty loving or hateful selfish or giving.

I was born at No 83 Vicarage Road Leyton E10. Not quite an Eastender but rather more an East Londoner. I was brought up together with my two brothers and my sister in three rooms on the third floor of a crumbling and condemed house. Condemed because it was damp and in places you could look through the floorboards into rooms below.
In the basement lived Mr and Mrs Black together with their son and daughter. Mrs Black died of Tuberculosis when she was still very young and looking back at their living conditions I am not suprised. They literally lived in the cellar next to the coal hole. I suppose, infact I know that their were lots and lots of families worse of than them of course.
Above them in the front of the house lived Mr Smith. He was a dapper man who as I remember used to give me sixpence to get his newspapaers on a sunday morning. Next to him lived Mr Hammond. He was a lunatic in the genuine sense of the word. I can reember seeing four strong men trying to get him into an ambulace on more than one occasion and having to use all their combined strenght to achieve the task in hand.
His flat stank. As you walked into the house the first thing that struck you was the smell. It may have been the pyramid of rotting egg shells permanantly standing on his kitchen table which grew taller as the weeks past, or perhaps the straw on the floor but what ever it was even the gale force draught coming up through holes in the floorboards didn't seem to help get rid of the stench. You would often see Mr Hammond crossing the hallway from kitchen to living room with his fried eggs and bacon on a sheet of folded newspaper in place of a plate. I suspect that Mr Hammond and Mr Smith were more thatn just friends. In between bouts of insanity Mr Hammond was a good and kind man who loved experimenting with radios and anything electrical. I often thought him a genius and that it was an awful shame that he was mad.

Next you came to our rooms and then above us lived my Nan and Grandad in one room and in the room next door my uncle Ron and Aunty Pam.

All in all it was a bit crowded and I wonder if that is why I like my space now.

I don't know why I am typing this.

Must be bored.

beantighe

Good heavens, David, that sounds completely Dickensian! What decade are we talking about? It really makes you wonder how some people survived!

My birth family comes from Botesdale, a small village near Diss, on the Norfolk/Suffolk border, but I was actually born in Cuckfield, Sussex. My mother was unmarried, which was a terrible scandal and disgrace in those days, so she went far away from home to have me, and I learned a few years ago that the rest of the family didn't even know she'd had me until I was 3 months old.

She was desperate to keep me, but my grandmother was a martinet who decreed how I should be looked after - and I use that term loosely. If my mother wanted to take me out, Nana would tell her when to be back, and god help her if she was late. When I was ill, mother went to get me some medicine in her lunch hour (she had to work) but Nana wouldn't let her give it to me. One day, mum came home to find Nana in the kitchen with a social worker, discussing my adoption. My poor mother was distraught, but she had no option but to obey, because Nana threatened to put her out on the street, which she actually did when my half-brother was born 7 years later.

My mother's elder brother and his wife were in their mid-40s and childless, and they said: 'Well we'll take her if you don't want her'. Mother and Nana took me down to London on the train. I was 23 months old at the time. My aunt (now my adoptive mother) came up from Hampshire, and the handover was done at the station. My real mum got up to go to the toilet, and I began to cry. She told me: 'Don't worry, mummy'll be back in a minute.' And my aunt said: 'You're NOT her mother any more - I'M her mother now.'

Nana was to come down with my aunt to Hampshire to help me settle in, but when they got on the train, my mum couldn't bear to let me go, and had hysterics. My aunt wrenched her away from me and ordered her - ordered, mind you, off the train. Poor mum had to travel back up to Suffolk on the train alone, and cried herself to sleep every night for the next two weeks, so that Grandad had to send for Nana to come back and sort her out.

And so I was brought up on the Hampshire/Wiltshire border, an only child of adoptive parents old enough to be my grandparents, in an old cottage in the middle of woods and farmland, miles from anywhere. It was a beautiful location, but I was all alone with no other children to play with, and no brothers and sisters, and as I grew up, I was always discouraged from wanting to know my real family, and to this end I was told a pack of lies.

So I think my early beginnings gave me a heightened sense of cruelty and injustice, and an abhorrence of liars, and also laid down the foundations of the rebelliousness which infuriated my adoptive mother so much. And of course, the more she condemned me for it, the more rebellious I became.

Lilly

Oh! Beany,that made me so sad,I too had a child out of wedlock,and only just managed to escape the same fate. My Mum wanted to adopt my boy,as she thought my boyfriend was going to desert me. He didnt and we married,had another boy the following year... thats another story.

My early childhood.
---------------------
I was born in Ilford [king george V1 hospital] and lived at 18 Wingate road,Ilford. This was quite a posh terraced house,had electric light and cooking stove.
Dad was not well off,he once had his own shopmaking and mending wireless sets when he lived in Hackney. When he married Mum,they moved to Ilford,as my Nan[mum's mum] lived in the same road,number 52. Dad went to work for a carpentry firm in Barking,making doors. The pay was so low,although he was skilled,that we had to move to a cheaper house,number 26, a condemned house,where I grew up. I might add that this house is still standing to this day! The rent difference was only sixpence,but in my days that would buy almost a week's shopping[lol]
Mum was not happy,the new house was damp,painted a mucky brown and had gaslight,no electricity in sight! We didn't have electric till 1957,and telly came later in 1959. No phone,that was a rich mans tool!
My sister and I; [7 years older than me] slept in the same double bed with until she was 15. Then I was carted off to the next door box-room,not told why.... it was all of 7ft.X 8ft,room enogh for a bed,chest of drawers and thats it,funny enough,my grandaughter who lives in the same road as I live now,has her bedroom almost the same.
We had only the two bedrooms,most people in the street had converted the box-room to a bath-room as houses weren't built with those little luxuries. We had a tin bath hanging on the outside wall,which rusted . In the end I had to go to my aunt's flat at the top of our road to have a bath. Her flat was modern,built in 1958.I remember she used 'Breeze' soap.
We had 'steam' radio,it was my job to collect the accumulater and the gas mantles from the shop up the road in my old pushchair. Mum and Nandid the weekly shop with the pushchair too! My school was within a few yards at the end of the road. All my Mum's family, 8 brothers and sisters had gone to the same school. Mum and Dad were Healer's. Dad was the president at our church in Barking and they held spiritualist meetings in the upstairs front bedroom,which had been converted to our parlour.Mum and Dad slept downstairs in the front room,with a jerry under the bed.,, which amused my friends that had posh indoor bathrooms.The loo was outside,no light,and newspaper for toilet roll.
We kept rabbits,for the pot [unknown to me] and next door had pigeons ,also for the pot! veggies came from the garden.
I can remember many a time having to go to the front door when the rent man or the insurance man came and tell him that Mum was out. I blew it once,by shouting back,''Mum's out..Aren't you ,Mum?''
I had a sore bum for a few days.
I could write a book on my childhood,spent in the garden mostly,as my sis was at work at 15,and I was like an only child.

Hunter

I was born in Sunderland at 5, Lutterworth road. My parents had been married for 5 years and had been trying to have kids for all this time. This is because my mother had only 2 periods a year rather than one every month.
They were ready to adopt when they went on a camping trip with my Dad's best friend & his wife & I was conceived. My mum a little later miscarried & could never conceive again, so I'm an only child. (Ironically my wife and I had been married for 4 years when she miscarried our first child & conceived our son exactly a year later !)
My Dad was a head of a school for the deaf in Sunderland & wanted a better school, so we moved down to Plymouth when I was in my 7th year.
After 7 years in Plymouth my Dad got the headship of a private school for the deaf in Derby, where they lived until he retired.
I went to 2 public schools, one in Plymouth, the other in Long Eaton in Nottinghamshire.
I left the last school before taking my A levels, because the teachers didn't think I'd pass. I wanted to prove them wrong so went to a Sixth form college, where I got 3 A levels & an O level pass in a 4th.
I then went to the same University college as my Dad, but on the other campus, where I studied languages.
I haven't lived in the UK for the last 20 years, only visiting during the summer hols.
Like my good friend Lilly I could write a book about my childhood, but will leave the post at this !

laura

i was born in eastleigh in hampshire and have lived here for most of my life. i am the youngest of three and the only girl, my brothers being so much older than me , i grew up feeling like an only child at times. we lived a basic but healthy life as a child... i had everything i needed, just without the frills! the secondary school i attended was very rough, and having been taught to speak properly, and to use my brain, i found myself one of the minority ... after a few years of being bullied (usually for not wearing the right clothes, my mother made most of mine) i found an inner stength to get by... and found alternative ways to be accepted... my homelife was frought at times with a father who had an uncontrollable temper, although thankfully this was seldom aimed at me.my mother however is an extremely loving person and everything was always made right by one of her cuddles! christianity was a strong theme within the family and to please my mother i did what was expected of me.... i very quickly though found myself questioning everything, most questions usually aimed at our old vicar, who was extremely tolerant and patient with my questioning and was honest enough to say i would find my own way for the answers i was seeking.

beantighe

Laura, your experiences of school look as if they mirror mine exactly.

My mother always insisted I speak cut-glass English, and when I went to secondary school in Romsey, (not that far from Eastleigh) I stuck out like a sore thumb every time I opened my mouth, and was bullied for years, like you.

Unfortunately, there were no cuddles for me when I got home. I got no sympathy at all, and my dad told me it was my own fault for being such a cry-baby, and that I should hit them back. Easier said than done when it's six onto one, and teachers take a dim view of fighting and prefer to administer the cane and ask questions later, if at all.

I spent my entire childhood being terrified - of my parents, of the teachers and of the bullies.

Lilly

laura

it was awful at the time to experience the cruelty of peers.... but i think it has helped to make me the person i am today... and given me the experience to advise my own girls how to deal with life! ... also to be able to stand alone and be an individual with out always the need to fit in. it is a hard lesson to learn and i try to teach my own children the lesson more kindly.

what positives have you been able to take from your experiences?

beantighe

None, I'm afraid.

I was watching The Bill earlier, and it was about school bullying. I sat there, absolutely inside the screen with this poor little girl who was being picked on by this girl brat and her mates, laughed at, ridiculed and humiliated. The little soul looked like a frightened rabbit. OK, I know it was acting, but it was so realistic and so close to home that I wanted to cry all over again.

That nervousness has stayed with me for life, and the only times I've ever felt brave is when I've been protecting my own children. I would have smashed faces in rather than have them go through what I was put through.

I've never forgotten how the gang chased me round the playground, sat on me and tried to put worms down my neck; how they grabbed the glasses off my face and played piggy-in-the-middle with them, and then threw them down on the tarmac when the bell went, leaving me to grope for them, terrified they would be broken, and of getting into trouble when I got home.

One day in summer, I was sitting reading under a tree on the playing field, as far away from people as I could get. The gang found me and sat on me again, grabbing my arms, and this time they pulled my shoes off and threw them in the stinging nettles just as the bell went.

I was always coming home with my blazer pockets torn where they'd grabbed onto me to make me miss my stop. A favourite trick was for the gang to stick pins down their lapels from needlework, and then jab me with them as we sat in the bus on the way home. Once the driver called me up front to sit on the single seat beside him, because no-one would leave me alone.

Even at the village school I would always come out at home-time to find my bicycle tyres had been let down, and when I finally got them pumped up, I would get halfway down the road to find the gang strung across the road with their bikes, and wouldn't let me pass. Dipping my plaits in the inkwell behind me was nothing in comparison.

In the end, you get so frightened, demoralised and lonely, and you really believe you're a freak, because no-one wants to be friends with you, and you can't understand why. And all that's without including the names I was called. It was torture, no more, no less. And I've never got over it, that's why I'm still so shy today.

laura

it's brave of you to talk about what has happened... you have a great inner beauty that shows such incredible honesty and emotion. being shy is not a negative thing, it means you are able to be in touch with your emotions and are cautious to how you act upon a given situation. i feel that in itself is a strength you have gained xxx

Lilly

I'm exactly the same,funny you said about '' Dipping my plaits in the inkwell behind me was nothing in comparison.''
I had this and actually got the blame for it! My hair was [still is] blonde and the ink turned my hair green.It was so long I didn't know what was happening. As for coming home from school, what a nightmare. I too wore glasses,and was called four eyes by kids that also wore glasses.The local gang waited for me behind corners,tied my long plaits to the railings;Again I got the blame for being late in class.
I have never been able to stand up for myself,and my second marriage was hell on Earth. I was ridiculed,put down,bullied, punched,treated like a slave for nearly 20 years. Some of the things he did are hard to believe,so I don't bother telling any more.
The people who say 'why do women stay with a man like that' haven't got a clue. I certainly wasn't going to leave as it was my house.I was so frightened of him and the threats he made if I attempted to tell,that I put up with it. When I did eventually get away,by a mere stroke of luck, the court didn't believe a word I said against him[he was a marvellous actor] My case came up at the same time as the Eastenders saga of little Mo and Trevor; it was so like my experience I think they thought I'd copied the story line. My main fear now,apart from my mental scars,is using the phone. I go into panic attacks when I have to phone someone,even my friends. I can't explain it to them they think its strange.How can anyone be frightened of picking up a phone? I have blotted out a lot of my memories,but a certain amount of bitterness remains for the way I was treated. I was a shy child and now am a shy adult,tho I do cover it up quite well,while underneath I'm like a frightened kitten.

beantighe

Oh Lilly, sweetheart, I can so understand just where you're coming from. I do know how it feels - my first two husbands were bastards too. My first one beat me up and stayed out all night clubbing and staying with other women. I know this, because he took malicious pleasure in coming home and telling me all about it. Once he got hold of me by the hair and slammed my head against the wall so hard that a large chunk of plaster fell out. We were both in our early 20s then.

My second didn't hit me - his abuse was all psychological. He was insanely jealous and didn't like me going out or having friends. When I did go out to work, he said he had 'friends' that he'd asked to keep an eye on me to see where I went in my lunch hour and who I spoke to. He didn't like me wearing a bikini on the beach (in the days when I had a figure, lol) and he was always accusing me of shortening my skirts (which I hadn't) and even THINKING about other men! He would never tell the truth if he could get away with a lie, and when I caught him out, as I so often did, he would deliberately start a row so we would end up not speaking and he wouldn't have to explain himself. He lied about everything, even his background. Lastly, he was a compulsive spender on cars, and throughout our marriage he took out loan after loan after loan, which left us so poor I sometimes didn't know where the next meal was coming from, and couldn't afford to buy shoes for my girls. For years I wore things I'd bought from jumble sales, and blessed the day I'd learned to sew.

Eventually, after 22 years, I managed to leave him, but my name was mud everywhere I went. My mother took his side and disowned me, and told all the family to have nothing more to do with me. Neighbours glared at me or ignored me, and some even crossed the road to avoid me. In the end I got out and moved about 70-80 miles away, down here to Devon.

I'm a bit of an enigma really - half of me is the strong survivor, the bloodyminded rebel, raging at the wickedness and injustices in the world, but the other half of me is so shy I wouldn't say boo to a goose's face, I'd just get completely tongue-tied and probably burst into tears. Then a week later I'd think of what I should have said, and beat myself up some more for not thinking of it at the time.

I'm just so lucky I've finally found John, but it took me literally half a century to find him. So I guess there's hope for us all - even me, lol!

Lilly

Reading this ,it seems to me that we've lived parallel lives! though there are a few differences! My first hubby [the father of my two boys] was a good man ,but fell under the influence of alcohol,became an alcoholic,which left me ,like you, almost penniless. I was a trained seamstress,so I would make the boys' clothes often from my old skirts!. Shoes were another matter,I couldn't make them. I reluctantly had to divorce,though we stayed friends. He died from liver disease,alone in his bedsit,at age 58.
My second husband,was like the proverbial spider,luring me into his parlour. I met him in a spiritualist church,and fell hook line and sinker to his charms,when all he wanted was my house and money. He could lie better than Walter Mitty. was an alcoholic,which I didn't realise as he was so devious. He had acute OCD . He would go out in the garden after and during a gale straightening the plants and sweeping up every leaf in sight.
He was possessive to the point of mind control,and I'm afraid I can't print here all the things he did,and made me do.
I hate that saying,which I hear so often,that 'you can lead a horse to water,but you can't make him drink!' My argument is; Oh! yes you can make him drink if he/she is so bloody scared of the person making him! After all, circus animals are trained by fear.
Perhaps I was a coward,as I bowed down to obey him,then I was in fear of my life,and the threats of what he said he would tell my sons ''things about me'' . At one time he pointed a gun at my face . It was a while until I found out it was a replica. Btw, he was obsessed with cars and had a new one every year,with me footing the bill!
I don't think I will ever meet a 'John'-- like you have, as he made me lose my trust. I had never met a man so evil,and didn't know what I was getting in to. The strange irony of the last bit is that I DID meet and go out a few times with a man named John,who was an old friend of my first hubby. We got on alright,and had a lot in common. I knew he used to drink a lot,and he assured me that he had given it up. Hah! pigs flying above, another alcy. He turned quite nasty when I dumped him.
In my next life, I'll come back as a pampered pet,like my cat!!!

beantighe

Oh poor love!

Is it something about us shy ones, do you think, that acts like a magnet to these evil, controlling men? Sometimes I used to think I was walking around with a tattoo saying Kick Me on my forehead.

I've only scratched the surface of the things that have been done and said to me, and I'm sure you have too, but I've got to the point where it's becoming an effort to remember it all, and that's a good place to be, because it shows that time and distance is finally taking effect, and there's no point in churning it all up for me any more.

That's not to say it hasn't left its scars and its after-effects - it most certainly has, and I will be shy and nervous for the rest of my life. It's just that I've learned to be kinder to myself now and accepted that none of it was my fault, no matter how much I was made to believe it was. These were nasty, negative people trying to pass all their negativity onto my shoulders. Well now I've refused to accept it any more, and I've sent it all back fairly and squarely where it belongs.

I was like you, Lilly, I never thought there were any decent men left in the world. When I met John, he too had been dumped on from a great height by both his previous wives, and almost the first thing he said to me was that he'd never trust a woman again. For me, it was instant attraction the minute we met, and I regarded this as a challenge. In the early days of our relationship we had some humdingers of rows, because we both had a lot of baggage to carry, and he automatically judged me by the behaviour of his first two wives. Eventually, he began to realise that I wasn't like them, and over the years we've both mellowed and calmed down as relaxation and trust set in. It was the happiest day of my life when we got married in October 2004, and now I wouldn't swap him for the world. And best of all, his large family up in Liverpool and surrounding area have taken me to their hearts and welcomed me into the family as well, and it's brought tears to my eyes to be loved and accepted into a family at last, who accept me just for being me, and because they see I have made John happy too.

This is my pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. It's been a long, hard road, but it was so worth waiting for.

Lilly

I'm so pleased for you,its just like the fairy tale ending!
When I was baptised,at my Godmothers' church[spiritualist] Mum said I was-- or she was.,given my life's path reading.
Well,either Mum lied to me,or its yet to come,I don't know. She was told that the first part of my life would be like walking on broken glass--true,then the last part of my life path would be happy; maybe it might happen when I'm in my eighties?
Life has certainly made me pessimistic! but I do not wallow in self pity,and I do know that none of his treatment of me was my fault.A victim support counsellor told me that these sort of men prey on weaker ,trusting women.
I'm not a miserable person,really,I always see the good in people,I'm always smiling.
And I think this is enough of this subject;between us,we have poured out all our woes,and people only want to listen for a while to others moans and groans. I'm now putting it all behind me,as much as I can,as there are other issues in my life that are taking up my thoughts and causing a lot of worry. This is MY pathway and I mustn't burden other people with it,so put on a happy face and face the school of life which I chose.
Big Grin

beantighe

Yeah - give a Wulfie Smith salute and cry: FREEDOM!!! and to hell with the lot of 'em!! Big Grin

Lilly

Continuation of this thread;
Wednesday 13th,I and my best friend went to memory lane.
We went to her old stamping ground,which is also David's!!!! ,[I've got some pics!] And also to where I was born in Ilford.
I can honestly say I was so glad to get back to the Island.It was 'spot the white person' where I used to live,and we went past David's old school in Fowler road,also spot the whites!
I felt like an outsider! every shop was owned by Indians,and my old house had some Arabic inscription above the door.
It was so noisy too,half the roads were being dug up,looked like pipe laying,and skyscrapers were being built on the site of our old market,at least the new building kept the name it used to be.
We went past the docklands,and I did wave to Raymond!
I must say that on the buses,the 'foreigners' did give up their seats for us.
I don't think I will go back 'home' ever again!

This is my old house,where I grew up,and my Nan lived down the same road.

Lilly

David will recognise this road!

Lilly

And this one is at the beginning of Fowler Road.

Lilly

this is my friends old house in Vansittart Road.

Lilly

Chapel in Ramsey Road.

david hobbs

All so very familiar and yet so far in the past.

It is easy to condemn foreigners for changing what we hold to be our London but now it is their London and good luck to them I say.

I used to knock on doors down those roads and try to get a job cutting their hedges and in the winter sweeping the snow from their gardens.

I remember my first Kiss there with Elaine Steiner a nice little Jewish girl. She was plump and pretty and I was drowned in her softness god bless her. She was all of ten years old. My dad was summoned by the neighbours as to what was going on and I was dragged away by the ear, but that soft kiss was worth it and a lot more besides.

It was never to be repeated as in those days women didn't work and they ruled the streets and god help you if you committed a misdemeanour because the news would be back home long before you were. I wish we still had that army of women but nowadays they are all working and saving up to pay off their credit cards. That is something that is lost to society these days.

I remember playing cricket and football along the road and never a vehicle to be seen and never a complaint about kids making a noise in the street because that was what kids did and everyone who could have kids had plenty.

F**k it I'm rambling again.

Sorry.

Lilly

No need for apology David, we are , I suppose turning into our parents' way of thinking.When I look back and remember my Mum and Dad talking about 'the good old days' I find myself doing the same.It was just such a shock to see the changes.If I had been living there and seen the changes gradually happening .... I'm in no way racist,,some of my best friends in Woodford before I came here were from the Caribbean,lovely people,and Dad worked with Indians whom he got on very well with.
I think I'm getting old, and apart from the colour of some folk's skin,they are probably more British than I am!

david hobbs

I like to think I am not racist and then I have to think what exactly is a racist.

I do feel different to foreign people because my entire background is different.

In business I have had bad experiences with Asians and I don't give a toss about saying it.

I would be very cautious about dealing with people from that background.

Then again I have been turned over for about 70.000 pounds over the years by English white folks so as far as I am concerned I do what I want to do these days and the Devil take the hindmost.

This forum helps me to recognise and consolidate my everyday prejudices and emotions and you know what.

My prejudices and emotions are totally meaningless in the scheme of things.

Meaningless from the point of view that they mean nothing either in this life or any supposed next.

I went back to my old house in London a few years back and it has been pulled down. Not surprising really as it was already falling down.

It just made me happy to know that by either accident or design I had left a shit hole and now lived in a place of my own choice with a few fields around me and relatively clean air.

I remember the vicar from Elim Church who according from the overheard words of my father was knocking of the lady in the flats next door. I remember her well as she was a large lady by the name of Betty. I did not of course understand what knocking her off meant but I do now.

Although my father was an ignorant fighting man he did have a kind of wisdom and I only realised this after his death.

Oops

I am rambling again.

Your turn to ramble!!!!!

beantighe

I can sympathise with you about bad experiences with Asians, David.

In 1973 I took a job as a shop assistant which I was offered by Tom Singh, the founder of the New Look chain. He had just opened his first shop in Weymouth with his wife, Kuljit. She was a snooty so and so who looked down her nose at me and treated me more like a servant than an employee. She used me to run errands and go shopping for her, and when she had non-English speaking female relatives down, she would have me tagging along behind them wherever they went. If they wanted something, Kuljit would give me the money and tell me to go and get it, while they waited across the road.

Her husband, Tom Singh, first of all used to pay me in cash out of the till, no pay packet or wage slip or anything. One week he said he couldn't pay me all in one go, and I got my pay in cash in dribs and drabs through the week. I was furious at the inconvenience, as I had rent to pay for my digs, and my landlady wasn't very impressed either!

Then he announced that he wanted me to travel by train from Weymouth to his new shop in the Arndale Centre, in Poole, on Saturdays. I actually had to ask him for my train fare, and after that he drove me there in his car. He also took to paying me with his own personal cheque, on a Saturday, when all the banks were shut. I used to have to put it through the shop's till, or I wouldn't have had any money for almost a week.

The final straw came one closing time in May, just as I was leaving to go home. It was a Tuesday, 5.30 pm, and the next day, Wednesday, was my regular day off, which I'd negotiated with Tom Singh before I accepted the job. I was actually in the act of closing the door behind me, when Kuljit called out: 'Oh, by the way, we want you in tomorrow.'

I said: 'But it's my day off tomorrow - I've made arrangements to go out for the day!'

She said: 'Oh well, you come in in the morning, and we'll see about the afternoon.' No mention of an extra day's pay of course.

Now that was like a red rag to a bull, so I took my day off as usual anyway and spent the day on Studland beach as planned.

When I went to work on Thursday morning she said: 'Where were you yesterday?' And that was it - I let rip, I'd had enough, and then I walked out.

I would have dropped them in it up to their necks if I could have, as all the time I was there I never got a payslip, and I was paid cash in hand, which meant that they hadn't declared me as an employee, or paid any tax on my wages. It was nothing to do with their nationality, it was the way they treated me like dirt that infuriated me. No wonder Singh became such a millionaire.

david hobbs

Sorry to say mate but it was everything to do with their nationality.

Lilly

The Aussies have got the right idea!

Prime Minister John Howard - Australia

Muslims who want to live under Islamic Sharia law were told on Wednesday to get out of Australia , as the government targeted radicals in a bid to head off potential terror attacks.
Separately, Howard angered some Australian Muslims on Wednesday by saying he supported spy agencies monitoring the nation's mosques. Quote: 'IMMIGRANTS, NOT AUSTRALIANS, MUST ADAPT. Take It Or Leave It. I am tired of this nation worrying about whether we are offending some individual or their culture. Since the terrorist attacks on Bali , we have experienced a surge in patriotism by the majority of Australians.'
'This culture has been developed over two centuries of struggles, trials and victories by millions of men and women who have sought freedom' 'We speak mainly ENGLISH, not Spanish, Lebanese, Arabic, Chinese, Japanese, Russian, or any other language. Therefore, if you wish to become part of our society . Learn the language!' 'Most Australians believe in God. This is not some Christian, right wing, political push, but a fact, because Christian men and women, on Christian principles, founded this nation, and this is clearly documented. It is certainly appropriate to display it on the walls of our schools. If God offends you, then I suggest you consider another part of the world as your new home, because God is part of our culture.' 'We will accept your beliefs, and will not question why. All we ask is that you accept ours, and live in harmony and peaceful enjoyment with us.' 'This is OUR COUNTRY, OUR LAND, and OUR LIFESTYLE, and we will allow you every opportunity to enjoy all this. But once you are done complaining, whining, and griping about Our Flag, Our Pledge, Our Christian beliefs, or Our Way of Life, I highly encourage you take advantage of one other great Australian freedom, 'THE RIGHT TO LEAVE'.' 'If you aren't happy here then LEAVE. We didn't force you to come here. You asked to be here. So accept the country YOU accepted.'

evergreen

he stand up in that though.. he is also no longer the Prime Minster of Australia....

we are attempting to work with Muslims so that they follow Australian law over Islamic law.. are we kidding ourselves??? a belief is a belief.. catholic follow their rules before following safe sex.. why should any other religion be any different

Lilly

Religion and politics have always been the cause of wars and troubles,and imo,it will never change.
How outdated was that news I posted! doh!

evergreen

hi Lily you know it was good you posted it it reminded me of when it happened and why.. while the rest of the world has terrorist attacks they are rare in Australia... the Pm made that statement because at the time Muslim radical groups or persons were making threats towards major centers and we had some incidences occur.. I was glad he took a firm stance :) but some were outraged that a PM should openly "threaten" a group of people.... I believe in what was said and I am sure many non-racist Australia do too

I think the country is still taking this stance we have deported some persons found to have link to radical groups ... yet there is still a great amount of tolerance

KathUCH

Oooh I love these sort of discussions. I was born in St Pancras,London in 1969 to a single mother. She didn't want to keep me so I was in a mother and baby home in Hampstead until I was adopted at 9 months old.

Strangely enough my biological Mum and my real Mum (the Mum who brought me up) died at the age of 49 years,on the same date but 10 years apart...I often wonder will that be fate,death at 49 ?!

david hobbs

Well done for actually talking about the actual thread.

Bit of a rarity that.

Raymond

How did I miss this thread?

Ok me now, I was born in 1972 on the Isle Of Dogs in East London. My Dad was a bus driver and my Mum a dental nurse.
When I came along my Mum made no bones about the fact that she was going back to work - and she did. Good luck to her. She enjoyed her job and it meant the world to her.
So my very early years I was raised mostly by my Grandparents, and I loved that, so everyone was a winner.

We lived in a 3 bedroom maisonette and my parents' stayed there until 8 years ago when they moved to Kent.

5 years after I was born my sister Sarah was born. 5 years later my sister Katie was born and then 10 years later my sister Charlotte was born.

I had a happy childhood and I often remark that my generation was possibly the last to experience 'going out' to play without our Mothers worrying what was happening to us. Me and my friends used to go romping over the 'debris' sites.
By the early 80's the Docklands area was well under way and there used to be loads of debris sites all over the Isle Of Dogs and during the school holidays we would be over them from dawn to dusk.

One of my most vivid memories of childhood was when me and my friends used to go swimming in Limehouse Dock - it's a wonder we didn't end up with allsorts of diseases, but it was cheaper than going up Poplar Baths. Anyway, there I was swimming in the dock and a water rat happily swan past me about 2 feet away. I never went back into the dock water after that.

The real drama didn't really start until I hit my teens (doesn't it for everyone?) I realised at a very young age (about 12) that I was gay. At 14 I made the mistake of telling somebody who I thought I could trust but naturally she told somebody who told somebody who told somebody and within a week it all round the street and all round school.
I remember the school made me see a child psycologist. I still don't know why. I only saw her for about 3 months and we just chit-chatted mostly. I can remember thinking at the time "Why am I here?" but at the very least it got me off double Physics so it was all good.

When I was 15 I had a bit of a 'growth spurt' and suddenly hit six foot. I looked older than my years and so I decided one night to visit my local gay pub, The White Swan on Commercial Road.

The White Swan had a bit of a reputation in the area as being 'one of those pubs'. With it's boarded up windows I can see how it invited mystery and intrigue.

I walked around the block a few times before actually had enough courage to go in.
Eventually, however, I did. It was like walking into wonderland. For the first time in my life I was around people like me. For the first time I didn't feel 'different'. I could be the person I had tried so hard not to be for so long.
I walked to the bar and ordered a pint of lager. It was the only thing I recognised because until then my experience of alcohol was limited to a bottle of 'Blue Nun' over the graveyard with my friends whenever we had enough money between us to afford one.

I went back the following week and the week after and by then had actually started to make some friends - friends I still have now actually.

That third week turned out to be one of the biggest weekends of my life. I was at the bar and this man came over and started to talk to me. His name was Adam and he was 25. He was incradibly good looking and being so much older than me his every word worked like a charm.
Within an hour I found myself agreeing to going back to his house.
I phoned my Mum and told her I was staying at a friends house and not to expect me home.
I went back to Adam's house where he lived with his boyfriend and flatmate.
Anyway, long story short the three of them raped me.
It lasted the whole night. They had literally tied me up and did whatever they wanted to do.

Adam dropped me off early the next morning not far from my house and I went home and just stood in the shower for over an hour.
I burnt my clothes because they smelled of him and the others and moped about for about a week.

I didn't tell my Mum or anybody. I had it in my head that somehow it was all my fault, and I could just hear the questions; "Why did you go back to the house?" "Why were you at a gay pub?" etc....
So I kept quiet about it.

In fact, the first time I ever told anybody wasn't until 12 years later.

I continued to go back to The White Swan however. I figured that if I was ever going to be a happy gay man then I'd be spending a lot of time in places like The White Swan so I had to get back on the horse - so to speak.

I had some of the best nights of my life in that pub. Even now I go back every now and then. It hasn't changed much.

All in all, I had a really good childhood. I know everybody probably says it about where they grew up but I'm glad I grew up in the eastend of London. It was rough at times but some of the characters I've met over the years I really don't think I would have met anywhere else.

I still live in the eastend. Not on The Isle Of Dogs anymore but not far.

Anyway, that's me done.

KathUCH

God Raymond what an awful experience for you,and I don't want to make you cringe but I think very brave of you to tell people. Your honestly is like a breath of fresh air.

Love the water rat story ,can just imagine your face watching it swim nearby !

This thread is great not only for building pictures up of people but also great historical value.

KathUCH

mark

raymond i wonder how many other people they did that too?did you report them to the police ,i dont think you did ,wow sorry to hear this raymond

david hobbs

Raymond

No I didn't Mark. It was funny though because years later I was at Gay Pride when they held it in Victoria Park, just up the road to me.

In the beer tent I saw one of them standing with a group of friends. I walked up to him with a big smile on my face and said "Hello, remember me?"
"Er,.....no" he replied
"Oh really?" I said in mock disbelief "I thought you might have"
"Where do you think I know you from?" He asked
"When I was 15 you and your friends tied me up and raped me all night long" I said in a loud voice, still with a huge grin on my face, "I thought you would have remembered that"

It was one of those 'the whole place fell silent' moments.

That's when I laid the whole thing to rest.

mark

that was a gay with no pride,hope he died when you said that
good you have dealt with this ,must have been awfull

Raymond

wackyjacky

Shame he didn't Raymond. I'm so sorry that you had to go through that... Bastards! I wish I could cut their balls off and stuff em where the sun don't shine, but still, it wouldn't be enough. Good on ya Raymond for dealing with it. I truely hope you don't let it affect you now.... though I would understand if it did...

Raymond

No not at all.

Shit happens.

The best any of us can do is move on. If you wallow in the bad things then it's always got a hold over you.

In a way I'm glad it happened. One of the major factors that has made me the person I am today.

evergreen

I've missed this thread good grief.. well before I reply to others.. where do I come from..hmm long story as they all are.

i was born in northern Ireland to parents of a mixed marriage they were shun upon and outcast by society and family alike.. my grandfather did not attend their wedding and the family issues on both sides were many mum was catholic and came from a large family of 9 surviving children dad was protestant and came form a family of 6 where many other children had died along the way... anyway I regress but it says a lot about my early years

we had a pig farm when I was born and my birth was one that came at great risk to my mother we are different blood types which was not piked up until the birth and she nearly died as did I.. mum was a very stressed woman who was also what I could term aggressive and perhaps unstable with it.. anyway without know in details it difficult to say but I have lots of memories of being hit and the like and fighting and screaming .. and blah.. mum was only 17 when they married.. so it was probably a lot of stress for someone so young

anyway I had an elder brother of two years.. over the years we grew to look out for each other but he was the favourite of mum... yet he still protected me to some extend

my parents both rode mother bikes in those days and dad drove stock cars and wasn't bad I might add.. one day while going to visit my grandparents farm I had a terrible accident on the back of mums bike my foot became tangled in the motor bike spokes.. I still recall the truck stopping and taking us to the hospital where I spent about 6 months having operations and healing.. I had skin grafts and the like.. I still recall the marshmallow they fed me to keep me happy a two year old alone in the hospital for so long it wouldn't 'really happen today but that was the way it was

we moved from the pig farm to town where dad had built a bungalow it was there we started school and there where we were taunted for being mixed.. I recall my brother being thrown on the iced up stream and beaten by boys to and from school.. and yet I thought we were fairly happy- we didn't 'knwo it any other way.. when I was 3 we migrated to Australia... the voyage was long I remember being so sea sick I was placed in quarantine on the ship ha

Australia was fantastic and terrible all at once.. we lived on a migrant hostel where were fought floods and bush fires and dad really thought we were on had moved to hell on earth. We were the only English speaking family on the hostel and my brother and I were bashed often by the older Spanish and Argentine children.. it really was rather scary at times. My brother and I were left on our on in the afternoons as both our parents were working .. and I remember just locking ourselves inside and hoping we would be ok mum and dad did their best to give us a good start in a new country .. I my brother had both his hands broken and I had my front teeth knocked out and was constantly carrying shiners and one girl use to bite me all the time .. it was a bit to go through for little kids

i began Australian school the day I turned five.. it was a school assembly in the morning and I remember they played God Save The Queen.. I was so scared to sing it I stood there searching the crowd to see if my brother was singing it .. he too was standing mutely staring like a deer in headlights.. we promised never to tell out parents that it was played at school ... it was something we would have been punished for partaking in or even listening to

anyway .. so much to say... so uninteresting haha

one thing I can describe is growing up with being able to see and hear things others couldn't.. also being able to I guess you would call it remote view anything I wanted... I never knew what any of this was I thought it was normal.. and I never understood why I was seen as different .. or disturbed (my parents took me to a shrink when I was 4 ) .. it took me years to figure out they were not just ignoring me hahah

I had one of those childhoods where everyone loved you but your family.. its a strange thing to go through ... my mum was abusive until I left home it got worse when my brother was born when I was 11 and then worse again when my sister was born and I was 14... but it made me very strong very independent and I know it was the right way for me to be brought up..

I don't talk about it not because it is difficult but because I really can't stand pity from others about it - an the people involved are still alive a.. so before you say you are sorry ... please know that it taught me more than you can know about people and adversity and it has made me a really fantastic parent and woman .. I didn't learn my value from my first abusive relationship it has taken many abusive relationships to break the cycle .. but it is broken and I feel no pain from it .. bar the fact I have not spoken to my mother since I was 19 or so until I ran into her at the beginning of this year i wasn't even scared and you know what she didn't recognise me I had to tell her who I was... LOL says a lot really :)

so that's my basic history ..

Raymond

Wow EG that's quite a story.

I won't say "I'm sorry" or anything like that because apart from being slightly patronising, it's happened.

Like I said, shit happens.

It's not what happens to you that counts, it's how you deal with it afterwards.

evergreen

Raymond

It's a conspiracy. He's gearing us up for major changes to the forum THE NEW FORUM ORDER!

Little things, drip drip drip, it's the thin edge of the wedge I tell you!

Next thing he'll start deleting our posts, then he'll start sending us verbally abusive PM's but be all sweetness and light on the forum.

Then he'll change his name to Wendi.....

evergreen

Raymond

Speaking of these things is always hit or miss.

Whenever I've told people of the rape story I have been met with a certain amount of dis-belief in the past.
Some people think it's a bit of attention seeking, others think you're in competition with them over who can be the biggest victim and I've even had people say they don't accept that male rape is even possible.

Oh well. What can you say?

I'm not here to spoon-feed anybody.

beantighe

Thank you, especially Raymond and Evergreen, for sharing your stories with us.

Naturally, my first reaction is sympathy and horror, because for me that's a natural and instinctive reaction, but I understand why neither of you want that.

But your stories have actually helped me no end, because what they have done is put my own story into perspective and made me realise that I'm in no way alone in having a crap childhood and a mother who was humiliating and verbally abusive, and a father who I was afraid of. The worst thing when you're undergoing these treatments and events is thinking you're the only one, and no-one knows what it's like to have awful things happen to you. It creates an awful sense of isolation and loneliness and makes you feel cut off from the rest of society, if not the world. At least that's how I felt.

It helps me no end to know that others have suffered too, and this suffering gives us a unique bond of understanding, and those of us who have withstood it and overcome it stand as a great example to others who may not have reached that stage yet. It really is a message of hope, encouragement, and triumph over adversity, and that's more comforting than any sympathetic words. I know I do relapse sometimes, but I'm getting there.

Raymond

Maybe if you stopped thinking of yourself as having "suffered" then that might be a major leap forward Beany.

evergreen

ChildOfChrist

all of your sufferings and trials are a result of your heathen sinful ways. can you not see the connection. turn away now and save your souls and those of your children

Bravo

sheelanagig

The world has been and always will be filled with people who are suffering in one way or another.

It is up to each of us on how we handle this.
This is what makes the human experience, and if we can help each other along the way then at least we are doing something pro active for each other, not denying and threatening doom and gloom on all.

You would have us go back to the dark ages with plagues and pestilence

evergreen