The wasteground
- Chris S-S
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Re: The wasteground
As I recall the people in no. 13 were refugees from Uganda, losing there garden fences was probably the least of there worries.
Chris Selwyn-Smith
Re: The wasteground
i expect life was better for them in Grosvenor Road than where they were beforeDominic wrote:...No.13. I must confess, I don't remember the people who lived there. Surely life must have been *not very nice* for them... Did they already live there when the squatters moved in?
i got on ok with the mother, and the kids played and mixed -- they can be seen in the photos -- some of the people squatting got to know them quite well and were in contact with them after the Road ended, tho i don't know for how long
didn't they moved in as one of the Quadrant families in 1973? -- No 13 was probably one of the houses which people renovated under the arrangement that Arthur Chisnell agreed with Bovis -- (off topic, but for general info, it was Arthur who first suggested to Cliff Harper that he move into the Eel Pie Hotel, and that there'd be no retribution from the owner -- and certainly on the only occasion i remember chatting to Michael Snapper, he didn't seem at all pertubed by the events going on there)
no doubt you now take a much keener interest in all the people around you?I feel a bit guilty now, in hindsight, for not having taken more of an interest in the people around me at that time.
the censoring that often takes place on forums avoids a site falling foul of the various web filters that are in use -- it means the forum (and hence the site) is easier to find in the search engines (where the default setting usually blocks sites with mature content) and it allows the site to be visited by schools and work computers which usually have their access restrictedIf your innocent children read this, and have never heard the word 'h e l l'...
the default word list we're using probably comes from combing lists of prohibited words found in the various commercial filtering packages that are available for home use -- these take a broad approach in order to maximise their sales -- other parts of the world (including non-Christian countries) are sometimes more sensitive than the UK when it comes to vocabulary with religious significance, such as geographical areas of the afterlife
Last edited by Weed on Thu Nov 27, 2008 2:58 am, edited 1 time in total.
Re: The wasteground
It is amazing how easily we become distracted from 'the topic'. I appreciate Joelle's attempt to include more ex-groadies into the forum by introducing new, all inclusive, topics such as 'wasteground' and 'caff'. Surely they hold some memories for everyone. I'm really sorry for causing it to stray off topic.
Last edited by Dominic on Mon Feb 02, 2009 4:45 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Re: The wasteground
ah, that was just a bit of bait for Jamie to rise to should he ever browse the forum... we quote stuff back at each other years later to guage the decline in our memoriesDominic wrote:I hope you wrote 'GEOgraphical' with your tongue firmly in your cheek.
it's an oblique reference to Sir Isaac Newton -- he devoted much of his later life to investigating and trying to map the geography of Hell, and considered it to be one of his most important contributions to human knowledge... and who am i to argue with the author of "Philosophiae Naturalis Principia Mathematica", the most influential book in the history of science?
PS subverting threads by going off topic is a form of trolling considered by some to be the ultimate contemporary literary artform -- Canadian Tom (from Eel Pie) was a notorious practitioner in the early 90s -- there's an interview with him from 1995 at http://www.tranquileye.com/magic/magic_ ... _loons.htm -- i get the occasional email from Tom, and he's still doing crazy stuff lol
(for anyone wanting to take an active part in public discussion groups, Mike Reed's classic Flame Warriors site is essential reading)
Re: The wasteground
Can't remember exactly where 14 was...but do know that the black family resident in non-squatted grosvenor Road, adjacent to the wasteground, were from Nigeria in West Africa originally and had lived in the UK for some years.
The husband, who was a postal worker, sadly died after they'd moved to Twickenham; leaving the mum with her three children (who often appear in Grosvenor Road photos.)
They later moved to Isleworth and then the mum and the youngest children returned to Nigeria.
The mum did this because the son wasn't concentrating in school here. He's since graduated etc.
The oldest girl, who stayed, got involved with the church (and also study) and moved to Brixton.
The mum looked out for several of us in Grosvenor Rd and was very kind (feeding us, advising us, putting us up etc.)
Kept in contact for quite a few years, but lost touch some time ago. One of us met her in Nigeria.
Not mentioning names for reasons of confidentiality. x
The husband, who was a postal worker, sadly died after they'd moved to Twickenham; leaving the mum with her three children (who often appear in Grosvenor Road photos.)
They later moved to Isleworth and then the mum and the youngest children returned to Nigeria.
The mum did this because the son wasn't concentrating in school here. He's since graduated etc.
The oldest girl, who stayed, got involved with the church (and also study) and moved to Brixton.
The mum looked out for several of us in Grosvenor Rd and was very kind (feeding us, advising us, putting us up etc.)
Kept in contact for quite a few years, but lost touch some time ago. One of us met her in Nigeria.
Not mentioning names for reasons of confidentiality. x
- Joviale
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Re: The wasteground
Not even yours? And you're not even a member, so we're going to have to guess who you are!Guv wrote: Not mentioning names for reasons of confidentiality. x
I'ts amazing, though all these memories coming back, and more people participating in this forum.
Well if you're still in touch wth that family, they might appreciate seing the old photos.
If i can't dance to it, it's not my revolution
Re: The wasteground
Hi' Guv. - That's interesting, now that you mention that she was a nurse my memory begins to return. My memory is so bad, I can't remember where most people lived.
You have the right to remain anonymous. Please don't be put off writing more memories. It doesn't matter if we guess who you are as long as we don't address you by your real name in this forum.
Back to The Wasteground.
Does anyone remember how wonderful it was in that star-dome, with a fire going, on a clear night.
You have the right to remain anonymous. Please don't be put off writing more memories. It doesn't matter if we guess who you are as long as we don't address you by your real name in this forum.
Back to The Wasteground.
Does anyone remember how wonderful it was in that star-dome, with a fire going, on a clear night.
Last edited by Dominic on Mon Feb 02, 2009 4:53 pm, edited 3 times in total.
- Joviale
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- Posts: 379
- Joined: Fri Mar 07, 2008 2:59 pm
- antispam: I am Not
- Location: provence
Re: The wasteground
Of course, goes without saying! And yes, we want more!Dominic wrote:You have the right to remain anonymous. Please don't be put off writing more memories. It doesn't matter if we guess who you are as long as we don't address you by your real name in this forum.
My memories are so hazy. The weird thing is that i seem to have clearer memories of glamoran rd than of grosvenor rd. I wonder if it is because i seemed to hardly sleep at all all the time i was in n°7. My noise tolerance was so low, it probably explains (excuse?) my grumpiness at the time.
If i can't dance to it, it's not my revolution
Re: The wasteground
If you're looking for something sensational you'll probably find my rambling a bit dull, so don't bother to read on.
-----------------
The day we turned a demolition plot into a, more level, recreational space.
I worked at Coombe's Bakery for a while, a bread factory near Twickenham Green. Alternate days and nights. The days were good because it was 'job and finish'. We were paid from 6am to 3pm but were allowed to go home when the job was finished, which was usually about midday. Most people in The Street were only just getting out of bed then so I didn't miss-out on any of the action.
When I was on nights, it was a long night, but we had really long breaks between the batches of dough. Sometimes up to two hours, when I could cycle back to Gr.Rd. and hang out. There was nearly always somewhere were people were still awake, getting stoned, chatting, laughing, making and playing music, up to 3am.
My night-shift finished at 6am and one morning, when I didn't have to work the next night, I spontaneously dropped an acid trip. I was tired and a bit hazy, and so I immediately forgot that I had taken it.
It was a nice day and The Street was still asleep so I was wandering about, looking at all the rubbish and demolition rubble on the plot where 9 and 11 used to be. At that time it was still just a demolition site. I got a 'bee in my bonnet' about it and started hassling people to help clear it up as they emerged from their beds.
Of course no-one wanted to help, they had just woken up and they were confronted by me, in their faces, getting irate. Luckily, before I got too far up everyone's noses, I remembered that I had taken a trip and I was probably coming up on it. So rather than cause myself to go into a bad trip, I decided to button my lip and forget about getting people to help.
I just got on with shovelling and barrowing rubble, I really got into it. I was in my own little world and soon, when I looked up, there was someone else doing the same across the plot. I quickly got my head down and carried on. I didn't want to put them off by talking to them while I was 'on-one'. I didn't feel like I was tripping, and more or less forgot about it, assuming that the acid hadn't worked.
The next time I looked up, there was a group of people working, and later there was another group, including some of the kids. They all seemed to be having some active fun and it was a lovely bright day.
I just kept my head down and worked alone. I didn't want to spoil it by upsetting anyone with my big mouth. I think Seamus came and worked along-side me for a while but I think we didn't even speak about it, we just had a bit of inane joky banter, which was what Seamus was good at
It turned into a whole day of clearing the heaps of demolition rubble, and at the end of the afternoon the whole area was cleared. It was really satisfying, a job properly completed. It was only then that I spoke to those that were still there.
While sharing that satisfying feeling and just before someone would normally say, "Let's get stoned", Someone said,"Look what *- - - - - has found". Little *-----, who was only about nine or ten at the time, was holding out his hand and there was a good quarter ounce of hash sat on his palm. He had found it on the wasteground while helping with the clean-up and gave it to us, I think someone gave him some coinage in return. That would have been about three quid then.
The lump of hash was like a reward, so the few of us that were still there, apart from *----- of course, went off to my room in No.16 and smoked a chillum. It was a really good end to a productive day and the effect of that smoke triggered the trip that I had forgotten about. I had quite a strong trip after that. It was as if it had been delayed until I could relax with it.
I learned an important lesson that day about not hassling people into doing things. People are more likely to contribute if they can see something productive going on, and the result is much more rewarding if everyone is allowed to enjoy the experience.
Of course I continued to be a pain in the neck, but I didn't try to rally people into doing things after that. As the saying goes "if you want something doing, do it yourself", and I would add, "and then others might well assist you".
-----------------
The day we turned a demolition plot into a, more level, recreational space.
I worked at Coombe's Bakery for a while, a bread factory near Twickenham Green. Alternate days and nights. The days were good because it was 'job and finish'. We were paid from 6am to 3pm but were allowed to go home when the job was finished, which was usually about midday. Most people in The Street were only just getting out of bed then so I didn't miss-out on any of the action.
When I was on nights, it was a long night, but we had really long breaks between the batches of dough. Sometimes up to two hours, when I could cycle back to Gr.Rd. and hang out. There was nearly always somewhere were people were still awake, getting stoned, chatting, laughing, making and playing music, up to 3am.
My night-shift finished at 6am and one morning, when I didn't have to work the next night, I spontaneously dropped an acid trip. I was tired and a bit hazy, and so I immediately forgot that I had taken it.
It was a nice day and The Street was still asleep so I was wandering about, looking at all the rubbish and demolition rubble on the plot where 9 and 11 used to be. At that time it was still just a demolition site. I got a 'bee in my bonnet' about it and started hassling people to help clear it up as they emerged from their beds.
Of course no-one wanted to help, they had just woken up and they were confronted by me, in their faces, getting irate. Luckily, before I got too far up everyone's noses, I remembered that I had taken a trip and I was probably coming up on it. So rather than cause myself to go into a bad trip, I decided to button my lip and forget about getting people to help.
I just got on with shovelling and barrowing rubble, I really got into it. I was in my own little world and soon, when I looked up, there was someone else doing the same across the plot. I quickly got my head down and carried on. I didn't want to put them off by talking to them while I was 'on-one'. I didn't feel like I was tripping, and more or less forgot about it, assuming that the acid hadn't worked.
The next time I looked up, there was a group of people working, and later there was another group, including some of the kids. They all seemed to be having some active fun and it was a lovely bright day.
I just kept my head down and worked alone. I didn't want to spoil it by upsetting anyone with my big mouth. I think Seamus came and worked along-side me for a while but I think we didn't even speak about it, we just had a bit of inane joky banter, which was what Seamus was good at
It turned into a whole day of clearing the heaps of demolition rubble, and at the end of the afternoon the whole area was cleared. It was really satisfying, a job properly completed. It was only then that I spoke to those that were still there.
While sharing that satisfying feeling and just before someone would normally say, "Let's get stoned", Someone said,"Look what *- - - - - has found". Little *-----, who was only about nine or ten at the time, was holding out his hand and there was a good quarter ounce of hash sat on his palm. He had found it on the wasteground while helping with the clean-up and gave it to us, I think someone gave him some coinage in return. That would have been about three quid then.
The lump of hash was like a reward, so the few of us that were still there, apart from *----- of course, went off to my room in No.16 and smoked a chillum. It was a really good end to a productive day and the effect of that smoke triggered the trip that I had forgotten about. I had quite a strong trip after that. It was as if it had been delayed until I could relax with it.
I learned an important lesson that day about not hassling people into doing things. People are more likely to contribute if they can see something productive going on, and the result is much more rewarding if everyone is allowed to enjoy the experience.
Of course I continued to be a pain in the neck, but I didn't try to rally people into doing things after that. As the saying goes "if you want something doing, do it yourself", and I would add, "and then others might well assist you".
Last edited by Dominic on Mon Feb 02, 2009 4:55 pm, edited 2 times in total.