Vagueness and the Aftermath - A sporadic diary

[RED-DOG]

How old is KIzzy now - must be nearly 1?

Over a year. You missed her birthday. (She's still sulking)

[RED-DOG]

”Breakfast over, we were ready for work…”

"A typical day" Continued.



During this period, my dad was a scrap collector, a rag-and-bone man, a tatter. Whatever you called it, it amounted to the same thing.

The ‘work force’ consisted of dad, granddad, mam and me. We would all squeeze into the cab of my dad’s ‘Ex ministry’ Bedford truck, leaving my granny (Annie) to look after the trailers and the younger kids while we went “Billing”.

At that time, there were two basic methods of scrap collecting from houses. (I specify houses because factories, farms and garages all required separate, and different techniques) For houses you could do either ‘Billing’ or ‘Calling’

Billing meant putting a leaflet through the door in the morning, and then going back to the house in the afternoon to ask the occupant if they had anything for you. The big advantage with this method was that where people will often close the door in your face without really knowing what you want when you’re calling, they will often read a ‘bill’ and in doing so, be reminded of something they have that they want to get rid of.

The bills had catchy little bullet points like “Top prices paid” and “up to £1 for old back boilers and gas geysers”

The disadvantage of billing was the fact it was slow and time consuming. You had to cover the same territory twice, and if the houses were no good, i.e. not producing or recently worked by someone else, it was too late to change your mind.

“Calling” on the other hand, meant doing just that. Knocking on someone’s door unannounced and asking them if they had any scrap iron or old rags to get rid of today.

This method too had several benefits. It was Quick. You could cover a lot of ground in a short space of time. You only had to visit each house once. You could “Persuade” people to have a look for something, and you could move to a different area if things were going badly.

On the downside, you got a lot of doors slammed in your face before you could start your spiel. Most people said “No” automatically and had no idea what you wanted.

Which method you chose usually depended on several factors. For three or four fit people, billing was a good option. Successful billing depended on the quantity of bills laid. For one worker on his own or perhaps two older people, calling was often best, sometimes it’s easier to talk a lot than walk a lot.

When I was first married, I used to always go calling. As the children started to grow I switched to billing. If any of the kids had the sulks or got mardy for any reason and I asked what was wrong, Mrs Red would often say “Nothing that a thousand bills won’t cure”.



Looking back over this, I seem to have taken ages getting nowhere. Sorry if I’ve rambled about a bit, (Sometimes it’s really difficult to explain things that you have never had to explain before) if you are unclear about anything, please ask.

[Tonji]

Really interesting Red. Reminded me of the old rag & bone man down our way in the 70s, this was in Lewisham. He was of the the horse & cart variety & was probably in his seventies then. I distinctly remember he came down our road on a Friday, you heard him before you saw him, he used to shout something totally unintelligible, probably his version of "old iron"

Did you ever use a shout on your scrap rounds Red?

[RED-DOG]

Really interesting Red. Reminded me of the old rag & bone man down our way in the 70s, this was in Lewisham. He was of the the horse & cart variety & was probably in his seventies then. I distinctly remember he came down our road on a Friday, you heard him before you saw him, he used to shout something totally unintelligible, probably his version of "old iron"

Did you ever use a shout on your scrap rounds Red?

No. If you shouted you always got loads of kids following you demanding a goldfish.

[boldie]

Really interesting Red. Reminded me of the old rag & bone man down our way in the 70s, this was in Lewisham. He was of the the horse & cart variety & was probably in his seventies then. I distinctly remember he came down our road on a Friday, you heard him before you saw him, he used to shout something totally unintelligible, probably his version of "old iron"

Did you ever use a shout on your scrap rounds Red?

No. If you shouted you always got loads of kids following you demanding a goldfish.

Demanding a goldfish? Could you explain that one Red?

[RED-DOG]

Really interesting Red. Reminded me of the old rag & bone man down our way in the 70s, this was in Lewisham. He was of the the horse & cart variety & was probably in his seventies then. I distinctly remember he came down our road on a Friday, you heard him before you saw him, he used to shout something totally unintelligible, probably his version of "old iron"

Did you ever use a shout on your scrap rounds Red?

No. If you shouted you always got loads of kids following you demanding a goldfish.

Demanding a goldfish? Could you explain that one Red?

In those days, lots of the scrap yards would keep several horse and dray combinations which they would hire out on a day to day basis. The people who took advantage of this offer were usually destitute and just looking for a way to earn beer and cigarette money.

At the end of the day, when they came to weigh in, the cost of the hire was deducted from the value of the scrap they had collected. Coincidentally, after this deduction, there was always just enough left over for a couple of pints, a packet of fags, and a fish supper.

Where do the goldfish come in? I hear you ask. Well these down-and-outs had no money with which to buy the scrap in the first place, and if the scrapyard loaned them some, they just went straight to the pub with it. So the scrapyard owner would furnish them with a dozen or so goldfish instead. They could swap them to the kids (or the kids mums) in return for scrap, but apart from that, they were valueless.

PS- The reason you were mistaken for one of these characters if you shouted, was because they shouted rather than risk leaving the horse unattended too often.

[ifm]

Really interesting Red. Reminded me of the old rag & bone man down our way in the 70s, this was in Lewisham. He was of the the horse & cart variety & was probably in his seventies then. I distinctly remember he came down our road on a Friday, you heard him before you saw him, he used to shout something totally unintelligible, probably his version of "old iron"

Did you ever use a shout on your scrap rounds Red?

No. If you shouted you always got loads of kids following you demanding a goldfish.

When i was a kid it worked the other way round!
We'd go and find any old bit of scrap, bikes, anything we could grab to give to the scrap men just to get a dried up old felt tip pen "just put a drop o vinegar in the end and it'll work like new" and if really lucky a goldfish.
It's odd but i hadn't seen (or heard actually) a scrap man in years but just recently they've been up my road many times.

[RED-DOG]

The dodgy ones who weren't reliable enough to put in charge of a horse and dray were given a roughly made barrow consisting of a big wooden box with a handle and two cast-iron "wheels" taken from the front of an old style 'wooden roller' mangle. (Only those familiar with the old fashioned mangle will know what I'm talking about here)

One day, My dad and I had spent all morning dropping bills, and then in the afternoon when we came to pick them up, we found that one of these "barrow boys" had done it for us. (Very naughty)

My dad is an extremely passive man, but he searched the streets until he found this bloke, barrow fully laden.

Of course he didn't know that it was my dad who's bills he had picked up.

"Have you got a hammer I can borrow please?" My dad asked him. He handed my dad a hammer, and my dad smashed the wheels off his barrow and handed him his hammer back.

"That will teach you to pick other peoples bills up" dad said, and with that we left him, mouth open, standing in the middle of the road with his barrow looking like a ship wreck.

[sovietsong]

Another interesting insight into your childhood red, when i was a lad if i got in trouble my dad would take the plug off my master system...I soon learnt how to fit a plug doubt i would have given my old man such grief if i had to drop 1000 bills for playing up! 

[RED-DOG]

This is a cast mangle. You can see the big round "handle" part they used as a barrow wheel.

[RED-DOG]

Another interesting insight into your childhood red, when i was a lad if i got in trouble my dad would take the plug off my master system...I soon learnt how to fit a plug doubt i would have given my old man such grief if i had to drop 1000 bills for playing up! 

Yes. A thousand was an exaggeration by Mrs red though. (I've told her a million times not to exaggerate)

It would take two people about 5 hours to drop a thousand bills (Terraced houses)

[gatso]

Tom, earlier this week I went for lunch in a cafe in Ukraine. At another table was a group of 7 or 8 Indian looking people speaking fluent Ukranian.
I've never seen a non white person in this part of the country and even in the cities any non whites are foreigners so a large group of Indian-Ukranians certainly stood out. After they'd left I was told they were Gypsies travelling between the local villages.

Are they likely to be from the same bloodline as you and if so why have they retained their Indian looks so much more than Gypsies in the UK?

[RED-DOG]

Tom, earlier this week I went for lunch in a cafe in Ukraine. At another table was a group of 7 or 8 Indian looking people speaking fluent Ukranian.
I've never seen a non white person in this part of the country and even in the cities any non whites are foreigners so a large group of Indian-Ukranians certainly stood out. After they'd left I was told they were Gypsies travelling between the local villages.

Are they likely to be from the same bloodline as you and if so why have they retained their Indian looks so much more than Gypsies in the UK?

We in the UK have been watered down over the years. It doesn't take much, the odd gorger here and there. For instance, Price, Taylor, Lee, Booth, etc are not Indian names, but they belong to some of the biggest and best recognised Gypsy families in the country.

It's important in such things as planning applications to be able to prove your Gypsy status. (At the moment a Gypsy is defined in planning law as someone who lives a nomadic lifestyle and travels to make a living)

For my current planning application, using a the services of a genealogist I traced my Gypsy bloodline back to the 1600s. That proved that I was  Gypsy in the eyes of the law, but not in planning law.

We are currently lobbying for Gypsy status to be linked to the Mandela criteria, which states that you must share a common traceable bloodline, history, culture and language.

Great question though, and the short answer is yes, way back, we would be from the same bloodline.


Look at this picture of my good friend Jack Evans below. He has retained the "Indian" look.

[Dingdell]

This is a cast mangle. You can see the big round "handle" part they used as a barrow wheel.

Wow - I remember this - we had one of these and even when we got a spin dryer my mother kept it in the garage just in case. I got my first gold fish called Herbert from a rag and bone man. I remember shouting at my mum to get something to give to him so I could get a fish. She had to find something to give him and then we had to go to the pet shop to buy a bowl and fish food, I hate to think how much that free fish cost us...

What wonderful innocent childhood memories you have evoked Tom - thank you x

[RED-DOG]

What wonderful innocent childhood memories you have evoked Tom - thank you x

Oh I know Trace, I'm doing it to myself as well. Some of those memories are achingly nostalgic.