Wigan Album

This quirky street led onto Hardybutts.
The pies sold in the shop were exceptionally good…you could take a jug for gravy …at no extra cost.
I can’t help thinking if those two young men were stood like that today on a street corner they would look highly suspicious!
( selling something or other!) They are innocent though..,unless one was about to ride that bike up what I used to call ‘onion’ street as a child.

Brilliant photo. I bet Pie Joe's was popular! There was a pie shop in Ince called Cain's that was very popular too, and when Mr. Cain retired it was taken over by his assistant Edna Ashurst and her husband Peter Ashurst, and, oddly, I often heard it referred to as "Pie Pee's"!

Just noticed the push bike with lights. That very rarely happens today. You see more bike not lit at night than ever before and not even a red fear reflector. The Police don't even both. Don't get me wrong some bikers do and wear helmets.

My mam tells me that they lived in Union St and that her dad used to bake and sell pies...there is more to this story about her dad but it's a longish tale which I will tell on another day.

The problem today Arthur, there are no or very little Police patrols.
The only time you see Police is when there's a football or Rugby match on. You know what they say, Prevention is better than a cure.
Lovely photo Veronica from a bygone era.

Thank you again Veronica, for all these fascinating photos . The shop on the opposite corner to Pie Joes was Priors Grocers

There were so many shops in Scholes some I never got to go in. I have to say I had never been in the one you mention Tom. In fact I can’t remember it. I know I always went through Union St to go to Pie Joe’s though. It was one of the oldest streets I think. I can only remember houses on the left side going in from Hardybutts.

Apologies if I've posted this before.

MEMORIES OF SCHOLES
A TOWN WITHIN A TOWN
BY TOM WALSH

I have very fond memories of Scholes and its people. Born in McCormick Street, named after the second parish priest of St Patricks, this in itself made it part of the history of the the township. I describe the area as a township because that was what it was, a separate community in every sense. People had a feeling of belonging to Scholes first and Wigan second.

The vast majority of men were miners, and many women worked in the cotton factories both in Wigan and further afield traveling to Bolton, Rochdale and other local towns by coach or train, putting hours on to the working day because the pay was slightly better. I remember hearing the knocker up rousing households and not leaving until a response was forthcoming from the inhabitants, the lady who filled that particular role in the streets surrounding my home was Agnes Wynn who charged the princely sum of a shilling a week, which was collected every Friday evening. Agnes, lived in Higham Street and because she had to be up and about her bushiness on the morrow, went to bed very early, children were told not play near her house as she needed her sleep, if she overslept half the parish would miss a days work!

Scholes itself had shops of every sort, so much so that many older people would rarely if ever go to the town centre as almost everything could be sourced locally, from ladies fashions, Vi Almonds, to motor bikes, Millers.There were of course countless public houses and grocers, a Chinese laundry Moy Toys later to become Wong's and a myriad of other businesses. Locals say that if they had put a roof over the street in its heyday, it would have been the first Trafford Centre! Many shops had nicknames, Pie Joe's being one, it's a wonder he didn't go bankrupt, I remember going there for more than one neighbour for a meat pie, they would send a large jug with the instruction to fill it with gravy, free in those days. I think the surplus was for use on the Sunday dinner! Another amusing name was Polly do out, a clogger, it was said she could put a clog iron on a bladder without bursting it! One of the less hygienic shops often had a cat sat on a flitch of bacon. Needless to say most housewives avoided that shop's delights. A temperance bar, though fair to say it wasn't the most frequented of venues. Public houses seemed a more tempting prospect to most. Public Houses too had colloquial names the two most famous the Dust Hole (Rose and Crown) this establishment was reputed to sell the best pint in the district, and was one of the last ale houses, only licensed to sell ale and porter, and the Kill and Cure (the Regent) the latter because it was near to Dr Hoey's surgery .

There were two cinemas,The Labour and The Scholes Picture House ,the latter visited by yours truly every Saturday afternoon , the cost of entrance was 3d front seats (wooden) 4d back stalls with plush red velvet seats, the vast majority of children opted for the cheaper seats ,don't forget the penny saved would have bought an ice lolly from Telford's sweet shop in near by Wellington Street, after the matinee. After the performance if, as Invariably was the case, the the film had been a "Cowboy" , the lads would ride imaginary horses reins In one hand whilst hitting their hip with the other to make the unfortunate animal go faster ,until reaching the aforementioned Telford's when with both hands on the reins quick yank on the bridle to bring your mount to a halt then into the shop to spend the penny saved by enduring wooden seats and a crick in your neck from looking up at the screen ,all the privations of the front stalls seemed worth it to have this extra spending power! On the subject of "Cowboy" films, strange that in a barroom brawls with fists flaying and chairs flying the "goodie" never lost his white stetson ,the "baddie" by the way, always wore a black one, which were the signals of when to cheer or boo, which children did with great gusto . Edna the commandant, (usherette) in charge of the front stalls would reprimand any child who became to exuberant "th owd mon in park can hear thee" (Sir Frances Sharp Powell's statue) Now you knew never to cross Edna ,she was judge and jury and had the power have you evicted without the right of appeal, if you even thought of disobeying her, a fate I never experienced. Although I was on a final warning couple of times. Incidentally,the one with the white hat and neckerchief always won.

Another favourite was the 'follow-up' at the end of the performance, often" Flash Gordon" I don't mind telling you I had many a sleepless night thanks to "The Clay Men " creatures that manifested them selves from the walls , in the earlier hours looking up the bedroom ceiling, with its uneven surface, I convinced myself that the monsters had decided to pay a visit to 48 Mc Cormick Street . I think the only time I be been more frightened was listing to the play" The Monkeys Paw" on the wireless . My Mam realising what effect Flash Gordon and Ming the Merciless was having on my mental wellbeing said I should leave the "pictures" before the serial started . Not a chance , leave without my horse ! The "pictures" was also a great source of entertainment for the older generation too, don't forget televisions were as rare as hens teeth, it seemed that more women than men were "picture goers" , as mentioned earlier the majority of men preferred the charms of the many waterholes that adorned Scholes in times of yore.

Whilst times were difficult for many the feeling of community was tangible, even though many struggled and had little they would share what they had. Anyone without family who fell ill would be cared for in the neighbourhood. People could, and did leave the door unlocked, in my Mother's case she would leave the rent on the sideboard and the rent-man would let himself in mark the book and leave, I never heard of a house being burgled or of any dishonesty. When recounting this fact the reply often comes back "there was nothing to steal" on the contrary, every house had a gas meter full of money. After the gasman had emptied the meter and left the rebate there was unusually spare money in the parish, children armed with shillings bombarding local sweetshops.
No deed for ASBOS, a quick "I'll tell your mother", or a more a portent "I'll bring Farther Lappin, the highly respected parish priest of St Patricks, was enough to bring the most unruly youths to book.

The overwhelming majority of houses were very well kept women would mop the step daily, even an oblong area of pavement adjoining the doorway, and woe betide anyone who walked on their labours. Mondays was washing day, few had washing machines, boilers, dolly tubs and rubbing boards was the method employed by most households. It was said that there was a rainbow over Scholes on Mondays! There was great excitement when the first launderette opened, The Bendix, half a crown(twelve and half p.) for a 9lbs wash, the price alas put it out of the reach of many families, as an example that would have bought fish and chips twice over in the early 1950s! Every day a different task, bedrooms Tuesday, baking another day and so forth. Thursday in our house was the day Mother would black lead the Yorkshire range and tackle the brasses, I remember the cleaning agents Zebo and Brasso each with its own distinct smell, as had Mansion polish used liberally on well cared for furniture.

From an early age I was aware that people, not from the area, looked on Scholes with some misgivings to say the least, not aware of the warmth and honesty of its populous, believing the many negative comments made by commentators who had never visited the locality. Some who had choose to concentrate on the less pleasant aspects. George Orwell's book "The Road to Wigan Pier" certainly didn't do any favours for Wigan as a town and Scholes in particular. It was generally agreed in Scholes that Orwell, who calmed to be a socialist was a charlatan who used his so called socialism as a way of easing his conscience. Could someone who attended Eton (Scholarship or not) possibly have the slightest empathy with the beleaguered working class of the 1930's? His deeming comments prove that he didn't. On visiting Wigan, he sort out the poorest of the poor to suit his his own agenda. In the book, he says "If there is one man to whom I feel inferior to its the coal miner" that sentence, ought to have 'stuck in his craw', they trusted him and he betrayed their trust, I suggest purely for profit and self promotion. If there is an afterlife I think he'll feel he owes Wigan an apology.

I am very proud of my background, and wouldn't have wanted to be born and reared anywhere other than my beloved, and much maligned Scholes of yesteryear. Maybe you had to be born within the sound of St Catherine's or St Patricks bells to fully appreciate the wonderful atmosphere and sheer goodness of its people. I am often accused of looking back with rose tinted spectacles. I suppose there element truth in that, but better that, than looking back in anger.

I've just finished reading this from the 17th March.