We got married on February 7th, 1953

Please note: this post is 25 months old and The Cares Family is no longer operational. This post is shared for information only

I left school at 14 and was sent to Barnsbury Labour Exchange, which is still there. They sent me to work in a dirty old factory, where they made lenses for spectacles.

There were four men who did the grinding of the lenses into the right shape and thickness. The lenses were then put onto a machine that had a thing like a sink plunger came down on top of them. The machine was then switched on and the plunger would start spinning over the lenses but if they were dry they would scratch. They gave me a thing like an oil can and I had to walk up and down squirting the lenses to keep them wet.

Dinner time came and the four men said they wanted me to go to the Café on the corner to get them their sandwiches, which I did. I gave them what they had ordered and then asked the Foreman if it would be alright to go to dinner now and he said “that was your dinner time.” So I got the squirter thing, gave it to him and said to him “You do the squirting, mate, I’m away.” I got on my bike and rode away and so the first job I ever had lasted just half a day.

Just about a year after the war ended, I was called up to do National Service. Before I joined I had to go to an interview and take an intelligence test. Knowing the lack of education I had, I thought there was no chance of passing, but I did. In doing so I was allowed to join the Royal Air Force and was sent to a place called Padgate, which was then part of Lancashire. Here we were broken up into groups of 30 who shared one hut. I do not know why but I was selected as the hut leader and was responsible for what happened in the hut. Every week there would be a hut inspection and the winning hut would win a 48-hour pass. We would have to fold our bedding neatly, have our highly polished boots at the bottom of the bed and everything in our lockers clean and nicely placed. We also had to clean the floor. We won the best hut twice.

The first time I decided I would try to hitchhike home. I was standing by the side of the road when a great big American army lorry pulled up. The driver said “London?” and I replied yes and he told me to jump on, which I did. There were other servicemen on the lorry and we drove down the A1 and he dropped me off in Holloway Road, which is still the A1 and perfect for me as I lived in Holloway. I had a wonderful 48 hours leave but hitchhiking back to camp was harder. I had to change vehicle five times but I made it back in time.

We were sent to Liverpool Docks, where they loaded us onto a ship called the Scythia. We then sailed off with a military band playing on the dockside, waving us goodbye. Our first port of call was Gibraltar and to me that was wonderful as I had never been abroad before. The next stop was Malta and what surprised me there was that back home you could only buy one bar of chocolate due to rationing, but there you could buy as much English chocolate as you liked. The last stop was Port Said in Egypt. This was to be my home for the next two years.

At the end of my time there the de-mob numbers came up on the printer. I knew my number was 112 and there it was, and so I knew that I was soon to be going home. It was a good trip back to Liverpool and it was good to be back home. The evening after I got back to London, I went to the Youth club where I used to go.

At the club was a young lady called Joan and we never really liked each other as before I did my National Service I was a bit of a flash boy. But when the club closed that evening I found myself walking along with Joan. We had a kiss and a cuddle and that was it and we saw each other nearly every day. Joan and I got engaged on St Patrick’s Day, March 17^th. We were engaged for about two years and then Joan said that there were two rooms going in her house so I said “I guess we better get married then.” Joan and I got married on 7^th February 1953 at St Andrew’s Church in Thornhill Square.

We never actually got the two rooms in her house – I can’t remember why – but we got two rooms in a house in Copenhagen Street. On the second floor where we lived we had no hot water on tap and only a tiny little sink on the landing. There was a large crack on the wall from floor to ceiling which you could put your hand in because of the bombing during the war. I tried to do things to improve the conditions. I got a bucket of wet cement and newspapers and filled in the crack. I sealed the windows and doors with sticky tape.

During this time Joan became pregnant and when the baby was due to be delivered they decided that because we had no hot water and the conditions were not right the baby would have to be delivered at University College Hospital. It was a girl, named Valerie Hazel but known as Hazel. About five years later Joan became pregnant again. This time they decided that the baby would be delivered at home because I had a geezer fitted and we had hot water. It was another girl, Sandra Lynn, which really pleased me because I thought they would be very close friends and they were and even now in their 60s they still are. We lived in Copenhagen Street for about 20 years before they decided that they were going to pull it down.

Fred has been part of the North London Cares community since 2012. He has attended film nights, Grand National Watch Parties, Saturday Night Dance Parties (of course with his beloved Joan until 2017) and so much more – deepening his years-long one-to-one friendship with younger neighbour Alex at the same time. A natural leader, Fred has spoken on behalf of North London Cares on BBC London Radio, on BBC1's One Show, on BBC1’s Inside Out series and in several of our own films. Joan also had a Love Your Neighbour friend, Lorna, and was delighted to be part of Lorna’s baby daughter Isla’s life. Fred and Joan even shared their 63rd anniversary at a North London Cares social! Fred wrote his memoirs during the lockdowns in 2020 and 2021 and is thrilled to publish them via the North London Cares website.