Voting the ticket in The Fountain

Just as poverty, lack of amenities or false prosperity was the way of life for those who lived there, so was, "voting the ticket".

To a lesser extent an election raised a similar type of excitement to the Twelfth in the area. Instead of bunting, party posters would appear on the streets and the red, white and blue would be on the rosettes of the canvassers.

Some of those seeking election lived within the confines of the Fountain-others appeared in the weeks prior to polling day and vanished just as quickly after the results were announced.

Results

At no time were there any visible results of their efforts on behalf of the residents, no provision for the area or no improvements in the lives of the residents. However, it was with gusto that supporters worked for the candidates and provided refreshments for them and their workers on polling day.

For the children in particular there seemed to be nothing gained for the results of the election, the streets were their playground and having never known any better they expected nothing, that way we were never disappointed.

There were no front gardens, no green areas where we could play and no sign of them ever being forthcoming.

The little streets remained virtually unchanged, except for a coat of paint on the front doors or window frames. Luxury was a coating of tar on the roads, which had remained unattended for so long they needed more than a few potholes filled in.

Away from the elections, life was much the same, a mundane existence with lots of love and laughter in between.

Unionist we were, but unfortunate in representation both at local level and elsewhere, the "fur coat brigade" label held some truths, in that only affluent members of our community were asked to stand for election, to join those retired army officers and such that made up the rest of the political party.

All out of touch with the reality of life for those living there, and never allowing one of the masses to speak for their everyday needs.

Allegiance

In thought, allegiance and attitude, everyone was unashamedly British and being so, adhered to a system of government with which they agreed, and a way of life, more than a quality of life, with which they could identify.

The quality of life was, in the main, due to the people themselves and their caring, sharing attitude for one another, which is sadly lacking in the more affluent society of today.

When not attending church functions the young people sought their amusement wherever possible, and through some very simple methods.

As well as playing games we often waited patiently for the snow to arrive in the winter and the hilly streets were used for our own version of the Cresta Run.

When the snow was deep and hard enough, there was less traffic in those days, we would gather with our sleighs at the Bishop Street entry to Fountain Street and propel our way down towards Hawkin Street and stop at Carlisle Road.

In latter years when more cars appeared it was a case of staying in your own street and in Victoria Street a mound of snow was built across the road approximately half way down.

The idea was to sledge down the street as fast as possible, fly into the air on the bump and continue on until you reached the boundary wall at the bottom.

The children became quite adept at it and being the sort of community we were we encouraged the older residents to try as well. We managed to coax one of the ladies in the street to try it out and therefore Laura Allen took her inaugural flight down the street.

Manoeuvered

She successfully manoeuvered the bump but when she reached the wall couldn't stop herself and was knocked unconscious but thankfully made a rapid and full recovery but refused any invitations to try again.

Laura, like many others in the area, was a generous, kindly and likable neighbour, a mirror of many in the area and who helped make the area what it was.

It was a time of innovation outside the area as well and a new facility was made available to the population, the launderette.

Sunlight soap

With its arrival the woman of the area found and easier way to have they're washing done. While there were still times when the Sunlight soap and washing boards were still used, a weekly wash was taken to the Launderette at the top of Abercorn Road where the new washing machines replaced the mangles in the back yards.

On a weekly basis the youngsters in our street were dispatched with a half crown and a load of washing. We were also given tuppence to spend in "wee Johnnies", to spend on second hand comics that we could read while the washing cycle went on. When we were finished we took the comics back and got half our money returned.

Gradually, as the idea caught on, it was not only the family washing that had to be done but the neighbours as well, which was not too much of a chore especially when |Irene Wright gave you sixpence for taking hers.

Eventually, when the two attendants, Sally and Joan, got to know us they agreed to look after the washing for us and we spent the hour in Riverview Park and made a profit at the same time.

Nothing remains the same forever and with the passage of time there were changes in The Fountain, indiscernible at first, but more noticeable as we grew older.

Sculleries

One very noticeable change was the need for bathrooms, so that ablutions could be carried out in private as the children were now becoming young adults and therefore could no longer be accommodated in the "sculleries".

As an expert jack of all trades, particularly carpentry, our father built ours and for the first time we could have an indoor toilet instead of having to go into the back yard on a rainy night to use it and all the while being on the lookout for spiders on the walls.

Now, instead of boiling water to fill a zinc bath there was the luxury of having a private room where one could take their time in the bath instead of being rushed while sitting in the scullery.

Gradually the little houses built their extensions and even with the new benefits people began to move away from the area, some through marriage and others through work related transfers or better housing opportunities.

The Fountain had many capable individuals living within it, there was Jimmy Cornic the sweep, Archibalds the plumbers, painters, Logues the builders, Mr Bell who took up gardening after his own very distinguished career and kept everyone supplied with flowers in the summer months and many others including my own father who used his many skills to make vestibule doors for other residents and toys for the children.

There was a new affluence too among the people and sometimes instead of walks with our mothers to St Columb's Park or day trips to Fahan in the bus, we children would be taken on the train to Portrush for the day.

These were great fun and the long hours on the beach or in the water before we had a picnic on the sand were days that stayed with us for many years. They were days away from normal daily chores and in many ways a magical time surrounded by the people who meant the most to us.

Friendships

For those who stayed, little changed, friendships deepened and life went on as normal, except that events were already afoot that would change it forever.

With growing older many things changed for us and some events did not have the same attraction for us.

In our childhood we waited for the gully suckers to come into our street to clear the drains along the kerbsides and when they had sucked the stones and grit from the bottom there was a flood of fresh water from the vehicle to rinse the drains.

This water caused a mini flood in the street and we would run, bare footed, into the streams in our bare feet to splash in the water. This seemed childish now, all a sign of growing up.

Neither did we have our own little shops at the top of the street where we sold drinks of orange for a penny, or go to the "Minors" in the Rialto on a Saturday morning. Now it was all schoolwork for the new colleges we attended outside the confines of our streets and our times were given to other things and new experiences.

One thing never changed however and that was the affection we had for our area and on winter nights when it was dark by the time we came home there was always something comforting about turning into The Fountain and a feeling of homeliness when we saw the old familiar houses.

In latter years when talking about the area to a friend of mine, he said that when he was young he wasn't allowed into it, as it was "rough".

To say I was shocked would be putting it mildly as I couldn't imagine the people of my childhood as anything other than kind, caring and generous individuals whom it was a pleasure to know and live among.

When I thought of that remark again, I decided that all diamonds are rough. It is the settings that people notice and don't see beyond. Even the setting here was cared for and through no fault of their own the residents had to accept what they had.