Christmas 1969

Me and my brother Dave wanted to buy Christmas presents for the family, something better than the customary bar of chocolate for Mam and a packet of fags for Dad. As the kind of presents we had in mind cost the kind of money we didn’t have, there was only one way to get them. Top of our nicking list was a brand new razor for Dad, sold in Woolworths for 12/6.

Woolworths then, was our first destination when we went to Twydall Green shops, but hovering around the counter was as far as we got. When it came to the crunch, we couldn’t go through with it. Instead, we bought Mam a bar of chocolate for Christmas, and Dad a packet of fags.

Christmas Eve… was my brother Mike’s birthday. As Mam still hadn’t got him a card, Dad got me up early – 6am early – when it was still dark and horrible, to send me up to Forbuoys newsagents for a birthday card. 

6:15am felt like the middle of the night. Chilled to the bone, I didn’t see a soul till I was almost at the shops, where a cheery Phil Jones emerged from the flats at Harbledown Manor with a big canvas bag slung over his shoulder. Seeing Phil was a big surprise, as I didn’t know he had a morning paper round. I didn’t know how he could be so bleeding cheerful either, so early in the morning, till the jammy git told me he’d just had a ten bob tip.

Of course I was envious. I’d made a grand total of two bob in tips delivering the Evening Post and most of it came from Mrs Stewart in Elham Close. Ten bob was a lot of money, but getting up that early every morning? No, sod that. Phil was welcome to it.

Father Christmas brought me a battery shaver for Christmas. So I told the little ones. He should have brought me a few whiskers while he was at it. After I’d shaved two little wisps from my chin I put the shaver away, wondering how many months would pass before I’d need it again.

 

Gillingham beat Fulham 2-0 at Priestfield Stadium on Boxing Day. Paul and I were there to see the Gills pick up two valuable points against a side that included the legendary Johnny Haynes.

Wow! 1970!

Man had already landed on the moon and now we’d really reached the space age, it seemed. Exciting, yes, but not without regret. I was sorry to leave the sixties behind. Present in every date I’d written since learning to write, the sixties had always been there. Like the moon and the stars, parents, The Queen and John Wayne, the sixties were one of life’s constants. And now they were gone.

January 1^st … the half crown ceased to be legal tender. Goodbye two and a kick, another piece of our past gone forever.

January 3rd 1970: Gillingham v Newport County FA Cup Third Round

After the 6-0 thrashing of Tamworth in the previous round, a struggle against fourth division Newport was the last thing Paul and I expected. From behind the goal at the Rainham End we watched anxiously as Newport mounted attack after attack and did everything except score. Newport could, and should, have won. But they didn’t. Late in the game the Gills were given a free kick just outside the Newport penalty area, at the Rainham End. Up stepped Mel Machin to clip the ball round the wall and score with a shot that went in off the post.

‘Yesss!’ Good old Smell!’ cried a jubilant Paul. 

It was a cracking free kick and we’d been right in line with it. Gillingham 1 Newport County 0 is how it ended. As lucky as the Gills had been, we didn’t care. Roll on the next round.