The First Day of the Street Party
Article by Barbara Jones
I was very excited that day. I was eight years old. The year was 1953, and it was Coronation Day -- the crowning of Queen Elizabeth II. That was exciting in itself, although I didn't understand all the pomp and circumstance at the time. What I did understand was that my mum, and all the other kids' mums, had planned this day for weeks in our street. We lived in a two-up and two-down terraced house, in a cobbled street, in Stockport, a suburb of Manchester -- the Big City.
I had a gorgeous red velvet dress with lace and pearls on it. This dress, I now realise, had cost my mum a week's wages, at the Pickerings Canning factory, in the lane at the end of our street. I had black patent shoes to go with it, and ribbons in my hair.
When everyone in the street got up at the crack of dawn that day, they were all excited. People brought tables from their front parlours, and put them down in rows along the street, on the cobblestones, shining in the sun. They made flags and bunting, and strung them up across the streett, high above, from opposite bedroom windows.
There were paper serviettes with coronation emblems on them, and souvenier coronation mugs from school, as well as tiny replicas of the coronation coach that was to take the Queen to Westminster Abbey. Mine was silver, but some were painted gold. I thought they were gorgeous.
Mums and dads had made cakes, jellies, custard, trifles, and a huge coronation cake with a coach on top, which was saved to the end and shared between us all. There were sausage rolls, pies, sandwiches, loads of fruit, sweets and pop. They had really pushed the boat out for us. Of course, the grown-ups had beer as well; this was a rare occasion and well worth a celebration -- magic indeed!
Throughout the afternoon we played street games on the pavements, such as marbles, hopscotch, kick the kan, top and whip. My grandma was the first in out street to have television so all the grown-ups sat in the parlour to watch the Queen being crowned, while we patiently waited for permission to tuck into the feast.
When everyone had eaten, the tables were cleared and someone brought out a gramophone, the cue to start dancing, and dance we did. Watching the mums and dads dancing was a treat I'll never forget. Everyone was so happy that day, and life was wonderful.
When the moon came up, the party was wound down. We kids were worn out by now and really tired, but what a magical day it had been for us, and one I'll never forget. The coronation street party was out first street party. We had many a one after that, but as my dad carried me to bed and tucked me in, I was so happy and content, that my mind was spinning with the exciting events of the day. Thoroughly worn out, I was asleep before my head touched my pillow.
Copyright The Bentilean 1999
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