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I was born on 17 March 1918, the son of Alfred William Buckley and Eliza Pickett. I was theeldest of four
 –
my brother, Ernie, was two years younger than me - my sisters, Betty and Edna,were four and seven years younger than me. My father was described on my birth certificate asa druggist. My mother was a seamstress by trade but she ceased working when I was about toarrive. Apparently a druggist, at that period of time, was someone who had been given theauthority and power to control the issue of drugs for a certain part of the country. His area wasNorth East London and he had the exclusive licence to issue drugs to hospitals, doctors and othernominated people, who were entitled to use the drugs for medical and therapeutic purposes. Itwas obviously quite a coveted position, although the drugs, I think, were pretty simple. Mymother was a strong minded lady who handled the family affairs and I developed a very closeand loving relationship with her. Her advice was very helpful and significantly influenced mydevelopment during my early years.We lived in 17 Lamb Lane, Hackney, E8, London. Lamb Lane was a small street off Mare Street,which was a main street going from the district of Bethnal Green out towards Clapton andLeighton. Most of the public buildings in Hackney were located on this street, including theHackney Empire.17 Lamb Lane was a Victorian, 3-storey terrace house and, like all the other houses in the street,it was rented. As you entered the house, the first room on the front left hand side, was thesitting room. It was only used on Sunday afternoons or special days. and in it there was a piano.Continuing down the hall, there was in front of you, the staircase going up, and then, on the left,there was a bedroom. Continuing further, there was the living room with a table with four chairsaround it and a comfortable chair by the fire. Next to the living room, was the scullery which hada gas cooker, a sink with no hot water of course - you had to boil a kettle on the gas stove if youwanted any hot water. There was also a wash boiler, fired by wood, which my mother usedevery Monday. From the kitchen, there was a door leading out to the garden. Outside, therewas the toilet and a walled garden, not a big one, but adequate at the time, and it had on theright, a shed in which my mother kept chickens and a cockerel, so that most of the time, we hada supply of fresh eggs. We children helped to collect the eggs and feed the chickens withvarieties of household scraps and, as a special treat, leftovers from the local greengrocer. I havevivid memories of the cockerel when he was crowing
. I‟m sure our
neighbours heard it too -however
they didn‟t mind too much, as we
occasionally handed over some of the eggs, and eventhe chickens when they had ceased laying.Back to the house itself - On the landing there was another bedroom. This was usedintermittently by a girl who helped my mother with day to day tasks. The girl was provided withfree accommodation and wages which were standard at that time. Occasionally we took in alodger to supplement the income. Going up the stairs again, with the same stair pattern, therewere another two bedrooms
 –
the main bedroom and a side bedroom, which was used by mysisters. In the main bedroom was my parent
s‟ 
bed, and a smaller one for my brother and myself. All the main rooms had coal fires and were furnished appropriately.More about my parents - My
mother‟s father was a drayman for a brewer
y in Aldgate, EastLondon. When I visited them in their terrace house in Brick Lane, I was astonished to see thatthey were the only non-Jewish family in the street. All the rest of the householders were Jewish.If I happened to be there on a Friday evening, I would see the Jewish people carrying fowlsupside down, holding them by the feet, ready for the religious ceremony which was thenprevalent and rigorously exercised on that night of the week.On the other side of the family,
my father‟s parents lived in Hoxton. I never saw my grandfather
 as he died when I was quite young. From Lamb Lane, we went across London Fields and overthe canal into Hoxton, which was then regarded as a reasonable residential area. My father wasone of six children, four male and two female - he was the youngest. The four males all workedin the furniture business in a workshop in Curtain Road, Shoreditch. I believe that mygrandfather, who was born in Cork, Ireland, came over with the children and my grandmother,when he was quite young. He created the workshop, which specialised in handmade furniture,
 
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based on copies of Victorian style sideboards, tables and chest of drawers. I went to thatworkshop from time to time. They employed another six people, experienced in producinghandmade furniture. It was a successful business and provided them all with a reasonablelivelihood. Of the two daughters, one married a man who was in the printing business, whichwas then very highly paid, and the other one was single. They had a Victorian semi-detachedhouse with relatively large rooms, which was four-storeys, including the basement. Mygrandmother lived in the front basement rooms and other rooms at the same level were used asthe kitchen and the breakfast room. Also living there, was the younger sister of the
daughter‟s
husband
 –
she assisted in the general duties, including the cooking. I used to visit mygrandmother nearly every Sunday, as a matter of routine, to keep in touch with her, on behalf of the family. I used to dress
in my „Sunday best‟ 
as the representative of the family. My attirewas traditional for the time,, with the appropriate hat and coat etc, depending on time of theyear.
My grandmother‟s room was quite small and w
as almost filled by her double bed. She hadall her meals with her daughter and her
daughter‟s
children in the adjoining rooms. She was avery kind and gentle lady and during my normal two hourly visit, I would try to keep herinformed of the weekly events, including my own experiences.Our home life was much the same as other families in the street - mother looking after the kidsand home. Our
family‟s fortunes varied fa
irly dramatically because my father was a heavygambler, drinker and cigar smoker
 –
he rarely came home before 7.30pm, having stopped off atone or two pubs on the way. Throughout his life he bet on the horses, which meant that thefamily had varying degrees of affluence, but we all managed to survive. My father had severalredeeming features which made him very popular. He was essen
tially a „man‟s man‟ and
preferred
mens‟ 
company, particularly over a few drinks. He once confessed to me that this sideof his character had caused problems on many occasions with my mother. However he stressedthat having relationships with other women was not an activity he had ever indulged in and hadremained, in that sense, truly faithful to his marriage vows. His lifestyle limited the time he spentin lengthy conversations with his children, but he was always very generous and considerate. Hislifestyle, however, produced problems on many occasions. One of them I recall was on GuyFawkes night, when we children were aged between eight and fourteen. My mother had agreedto a request from us, that we should have a big bonfire and fireworks on that night and invitesome of our friends. My father undertook to buy all the fireworks needed to make the eveninga wonderful occasion. However, unfortunately, as was his usual practice, he stopped off at oneor two pubs on the way and did not arrive until after 8 pm. Bulging from every pocket, were allsorts of fireworks, but by this time, the fire had virtually died down and the youngest childrenwere ready for bed. You can imagine how my mother responded to this..More about my mother - Her relationship with my father was pretty volatile because of hislifestyle. She was very tolerant on most occasions, but occasionally put her foot down veryforcibly and cut him down to size. She was very protective of us children, and, being the eldest,I was privy to a few of their minor explosions, and occasionally was part of them. On oneoccasion I recall that my father came home quite late in the evening and had obviously met upwith one of his chums and stayed out drinking.. He arrived home in due course, accompanied bythat friend, and told my mother that he was going upsta
irs to bring down „his darling boy‟ 
(me),to meet his pal. I could hear the shouting that was going on and started to go down the stairs.However, at the bottom, was my mother standing astride the stairs, with arms firmly fixed, oneon the banister and the other on the wall. She told my father that he was in no way going todisturb me just to please a friend. There were further altercations and I quickly returned to mybed and pretended I had not heard anything. On another occasions my parents had rows duringthe night, which kept me awake. I heard my father apologise for the way he had behaved. Onemorning, soon after my father had left for work at around 7 am, my mother came to my roomand asked me to get up and get dressed. She told me that she was worried about my father, ashe was in a very depressed state and talked about committing suicide. She requested that I gostraight to his office before going to school to see how he was. I went to his work and asked tosee him and h
e finally came out and asked me why I had come. I told him of my mum‟s worry
and that I had come to see if he was alright. He said he had to get back to work and gave me agreat hug and told me how important I was to him.
 
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My recollection of the sitting room is on winter Sunday afternoons. We would cook crumpets onthe open fire with butter and jam. The room contained the piano I used to play. My mothergave all the children the opportunity to have piano lessons but unfortunately no-one kept it up.I persisted and became quite an enthusiastic pupil of a part-time lady teacher. She used tocome to the house once a week for my lesson, which lasted for one and a half hours. She gaveme sheet music , which I was then to practise. I practised most evenings on my return fromschool, so that when she next came, I was able to play the pieces reasonably well. This wasnot a problem for me, as I enjoyed playing and was anxious to please my teacher and my mum.From time to time, when my mother invited friends for tea, to my embarrassment, she alwaysinsisted that I would play the piano to entertain her guests. I was never quite sure how delightedthey were
 –
but I was reasonably competent and easy to listen to.I remember, on odd occasions, my mother would send me off to queue at the Hackney Empirefor a particular concert she wanted to see. She would join me in the queue when she had put theother children to bed. This queue was for seats in the balcony. I saw many famous music hallstars of the time, including Louis Armstrong, Max Miller, and some of the old music hallfavourites. I always started queuing very early and so was at the front of the queue ready forthe doors to open. The arrival of my mum a few minutes before the doors opened, to join me atthe head of the queue, was frowned upon by the other people behind us, but my mum usuallyshrugged this off and ignored it. Of course the cost of a balcony seat was cheap, as they were atthe top of the building. One of the great delights at interval was to be provided either with aglass of lemonade or a bar of chocolate and sometimes even both. My siblings, Ernie, Betty andEdna were looked after by a daughter of one of our neighbours. As kids we would sometimes go with my father to a football match to watch the Clapton Orientteam. Their homeground was located near the River Lee in Clapton and it was a very highlyrated football club at that time. My father always had a bet on the result. I remember heusually bet on Clapton Orient winning, if they were playing at home. On one occasion, I wastroubled when it was obvious that not only had Clapton Orient lost, but he had also lost. I
endeavoured to express my sorrow but he brushed it aside and said „
T
here‟s
always another dayboy,
don‟t get fussed about it‟. He was a very active member of the Lansdowne Working Men‟s
 Club which was round the corner in Mare Street and could usually be found there on Sundaylunchtimes and evenings. At the club, there was always an oldtime musical hall on a Sundayevening. On these occasions, in accordance with the old style music hall tradition, there wasalways a senior member of the Club in front of the stage, introducing the artists as theyappeared. My mother went sometimes on a Sunday evening after putting the others to bed,inviting me along. This was always a very pleasant occasion. At Christmas there was apantomime to which all the family went, joining in the singing and receiving Christmas presents. As a family, Christmas was always very special for us. The preparation of the Christmas puddingwas a particular ritual that started at the beginning of December. My mother would put theChristmas pudding mixture in several basins and invite each of the children to stir the mixvigorously. At the same time they were to express their wishes and hopes for Father Christmas.It was one of the few events in which my father took an active interest. He also indulged in thestirring, adding brandy and sherry, to provide it with an appropriate flavour. The decoration of the Christmas tree and house was enthusiastically undertaken by all the children, workingtogether with occasional guidance by our mother. The belief in Father Christmas was very strongand remained with me until I was about twelve years old, when I accidentally found out the truthone Christmas Eve. Our stockings were hung in our bedrooms so that Father Christmas could fillthem up with a variety of goodies. Christmas was also a time that my father was at home onChristmas Day and Boxing Day and he often had friends around during that period.
I don‟t think we ever went anywhere
on holiday other than Southend and Brighton, although onspecial occasions, we did go to Yarmouth. We went by train from Liverpool Street Station or Victoria Station, having taken a bus from the stop at the end of our street. We went on holidayfor a week in August and stayed at a boarding house and spent the day usually on the beach. In
of 00

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