VIV'S STORY
Posted with Viv's blessing Life for me began 11th September 1937 when I was born in Paddington, London. I was born out-of-wedlock and my father disowned me. It was not unusual in those days for the father to have nothing to do with a child born in those circumstances. The memories of the early years are vague due to my young age, but I believe that what I remember of the air raids in London come from this time period. I don't remember where I was living but I do know that we sought shelter under the safety of the steel tables called Anderson shelters. At some point I was evacuated briefly to a location where there were two other families. I also believe that my mother had me fostered out before I was ever put into Dr.Barnardo's system. In my mind I can see myself travelling up a shrub-lined drive that rounded into a concrete backyard and encountering a house that seemed very large to me as a young child. There was a shed there and from the shed door hung a swing upon which I loved to play. Warm and happy feelings come over me when I think of this home and I think a lot of love must have been shown there. I know that I cried when I was taken away from this family where I believe the father was a policeman. My memories skip to a time when my mother must have come back for me because I travelled with her to Kent and there the house that we lived in was one of four which were shaped like halfmoons. Next to the houses there was a field filled with hops and I played there sometimes while my mother worked in the fields. Other times my mother just locked me up in the house while she was away.The only good memory I have of this house is that of the neighbours giving me toast one day. Most of the time I was lonely and afraid and I cried a lot. What else would expect from a child so young and being left repeatedly alone? We then moved to a cottage and it was from here that I began my schooling. When I think back and try and remember what my mother looked like, I cannot see her image; but ask me what my stepfather looked like and the recollection is so clear. He was such a frightening man due in part to his size I suppose, but it was his boots that frightened me the most. During this period of time my brother Cyril was born and I continued in the one activity that I loved. I was able to go to school and I can still remember travelling there in the back of a lorry. Once again, I was left alone to some degree, but this time it was in my bedroom. In this room I was shut up often and it was in this room where I had an eerie experience. I woke up one morning with the memories of a dream, which then repeated themselves in reality. In my dream I heard a knock on the wall of my room and a woman calling my name. She told me she was taking me away and that's exactly what happened. I was bundled into a little black pram and given a packet of Butternuts to eat, not knowing that I would never see my mother again until I was 26 years old. My new home was with a woman who always seemed to be in bed. Whether she was ill or had a young baby, I don't know. The next I remember, I was in a Barnardo's cottage opposite the church and close to a wooden or galvanised building painted green, which was in fact the school. This place was called Woodford Bridge Boys Garden City and is on the outskirts of London. Here we wore uniforms and slept downstairs in dormitories that had big round stone pillars from ground to ceiling, hopefully protecting our building from the destruction that was going on around us thanks to WW11. I'll always remember screaming with terror as the planes raced overhead dropping their deadly bombs. Somewhere in this time period I ended up in the hospital of the home, suffering from I know not what, but I wonder if I might have had laryngitis. Here we were wheeled onto the veranda when the air raids occurred. My next stop was Amington, which is located about 200 miles from London. As far as I remember I was never fostered out to towns, just to three different houses in Amington. My memories of this time period are so clear that I can describe where you would go if you wanted to see these three houses. The first house where I lived was reached by going down the main road from Amington and turning not on to the road that led to the church, but by turning on to the road with the bridge. After crossing the bridge there was a row of cottages facing the road sideways and I lived in one of these cottages. I don't remember a lot about this first home except that for some reason, I ended up in an isolation hospital. I was in a ward of my own, surrounded only by empty beds and comforted only by a night light and one nurse who came to see me when she was off duty. I was lonely and terrified and a young boy running up and down the corridors, knocking on the ward window only heightened my fright. Slowly, as my condition improved, I was allowed to walk in the garden and finally one day,on what happened to be my 6th birthday (or so I was told) I went back by ambulance to this first house in Amington. For reasons I'll never know, I was moved the next day to a different home, which was down the road and up a little track. Here there stood two cottages well back and behind a co-op shop.When looking back at this experience I am amused because although the foster homes were vetted, here the foster mother had a daughter who would take me into town and have me ask passing American servicemen to give me a chewing gum. Of course I did not mind because I had never had any before and I thought it was great. Now I realise that the daughter was using me so she could "chat up" the men! I did eventually move into another house in Amington to the home of the Arnold's and once again I have no clear recollection of why I had to move. Tom Arnold and his wife lived in a council house and he was a coal miner. It was a much better house than the previous ones and I was here about three years. Here I was able to learn tap dancing and according to Dr. Barnardo's I went to Brownies as well, although this is not part of the memories I have. (When I met my mother as an adult she said I was baptised Church of England, but I also remember being christened in the Amington Church when I was about eight or nine). I also remember going on holiday to Blackpool with the Arnold's and their son Alan and daughter Anne, both of whom were older than I. The one thing I did not like about this home was that I would be dressed in Anne's clothes when the welfare officer came around. They also pretended that Anne's room was mine when in fact it was not. Another boy from Barnardo's did come to live with us but he was there only briefly. Tom Arnold's wife went out to work, so I often had to fend for myself there. I remember I had trouble with my teeth at this time and I had my tonsils and adenoids taken out at Nuneaton Hospital. There were a lot of women on the ward I was on and I certainly enjoyed all the attention I got from them and they thoroughly spoiled me! I liked the school that I went to as well. The Headmaster was always very kind and there was also an elderly teacher that I remember. I think this teacher may have retired while I was at the school because I have memories of visiting with her later. There are some bad memories of school, however, because children are children and they were often times unkind to me. They would call me names and make a point of telling me that they weren't supposed to play with me. On girl said: " I can't speak to you because my mum says I am not to speak to anyone from Barnardo's." In my desperation to be liked I resorted to trying to buy their friendship. I actually stole some money to buy sweets so that they would play with me.Then I found Mr. Arnold's wallet and I took a 10-shilling note and gave it to two teachers who were getting married. Of course, they realised the value of the money and came to see the Arnold's and I was found out. Unfortunately, in the meantime. Mr. Arnold had accused Alan of taking it. I regretted his being blamed because he had always been kind to me. (Later on I would find out what it is like to be accused of stealing when you have not done so). When confronted with the parental question: "Why did you do that?" I answered with the usual child's answer: " I don't know." But for me it was also an answer that showed my deep distrust of adults. I knew without a shadow of doubt that adults were not to be trusted. My life was living proof of that! As a result of this theft, I found myself back at Woodford Bridge and this time, in Empire Cottage. The cottage had a sitting room for the matron as well as a play room for the children. There was also a dining room and kitchen along with a large cloak room and bathroom. The matron's bedroom and two dormitories were located upstairs. The matron at Empire Cottage was a Miss Hudson who was a very good matron and later on became quite a good friend. Memories I have of this placement include Dr. Bloom who was the doctor at the hospital that Dr. Barnardo's had at Woodford Bridge. He was very kind and seemed to take a little bit of interest in me. I remember he took me around the hospital where there were physically and mentally handicapped babies. The memory of what I saw there will always remain with me although I am glad I saw it. I first met Col. and Mrs. Atkins and their two children at this hospital. We got on quite well and they helped us put on a kind of pantomime play. One Christmas, the BBC did one of their first television broadcasts (outside of the studio) with mainly Empire Cottage children taking part. It was for a programme called "The Children's Hour" and was quite exciting because Petulia Clark participated as well. This was also the year of the Olympic Games in this country - 1948, and some of us Dr. Barnardo's children did an advert for pure white bread. We went to the Chingford church and once a month someone would take us in the church to their home for the day. I was lucky in that I always went with the same elderly couple every time. They were a retired couple and were very kind to me. One Christmas I went to a family called the Baker's in Surrey for the whole of Christmas. This was the first time I had ever had a Christmas stocking or a Christmas gift in the whole time I had been in Dr. Barnardo's care. I was given a pillowcase full of presents, one of which was a doll. They were a middle class family with a son who went to a grammar school. Once they took me to a pantomime in London and although they did write to me, by the time I got their letter it was the usual Barnardo-type letter with most of it vetted. They would have fostered me, I think, had I passed the 11 plus which would have allowed me to go to grammar school. One Easter I found myself in Eastbourne, which is a seaside resort, located in the south of England. Here lived a retired couple who had also taken in a lady teacher as a lodger. I was shown into a bedroom like nothing I had ever seen before. It was a great big bedroom with a beautiful bed, a bouquet of flowers on the bedside table and a box of chocolates so wonderful it was like a dream. They did everything "proper," with afternoon tea and cakes much too posh for a young girl like me. In addition to all the luxury, they were very nice people. I remember that the man of the house liked doing jigsaw puzzles and he would include me as he worked away at them. In June of that year I went to live with Mrs. Dove. This was my last foster home and the best. She had had boys and always wanted a girl so after she lost her husband, a good friend of hers who was a nurse, encouraged her to foster. I remember arriving at Harleston Station, kit bag in hand and trailing in the wake of the welfare officer who was dropping me off. I'll never forget how my kit bag came undone and went all over the station! Our kit included clothes from a store where the lady in charge was badly scarred in her face. I have been to see her since I have been married. She was a lovely lady. At Mrs. Dove's I played up quite a lot and I always think God must have given her great strength to put up with me. One thing I never did, however, was to play truant from school. As we both grew older we would sit down and talk and she would remark how I could not trust anyone who tried to do me a kindness. She never understood that part of me, but then, she never went through the life experiences I encountered. Although my foster mother has since died, I still keep in touch with her eldest son and he has been to my children's weddings. He always treated me like a father and used to thoroughly spoil me. As I said, I loved school and reading. In fact, I was made the first school librarian. I was also a prefect and a house captain. When the time came for me to leave school I thought I would like to do secretarial work and I sat an examination to go to the City of Norwich College. I was quite pleased with myself when I passed and was accepted. The college was in Duke Street then and later, at the end of that year, 1953, it moved to where it is now in Ipswich Road. This is where the big trouble started again. Mrs. Dove said she was quite prepared to keep me, saying that if Dr. Barnardo's paid for my keep, she would pay for my fares. Looking at this now, this seems very generous on Mrs. Dove's part, but no, someone behind a desk at Stepney Causeway declared that I had to go to a hostel. So off I went despite the fact that the stability I had experienced the last few years was completely taken away. Dr. Barnardo's used this hostel mainly for girls who "graduated" from foster care and went into the work force. They could stay at the hostel until they were 18 and then other accommodation would be found for them. I did not seem to mind until it came time to do homework. I was still going to the secretarial college and needed to study. Naturally, in the evening those who had been to work all day wanted to go into the sitting room and relax. They liked to play records and listen to the radio. I could understand this but it was not a good setting to quietly do my homework. So I took my homework into the dormitory one night and on the second night I was told by the woman in charge that it was a waste of electricity. This woman was an over-made up lady who ran around in mink coats and had no knowledge of teenagers at all. Nor was she very helpful. I remember going to get the equipment I needed so I could go to college and I came away with only a portion of what was needed. As it was not my foster mother's responsibility to clothe me, the only things I had were second hand shoes and cast off clothes. There was a uniform at the college and most of the girls had a blazer. I did not have the required clothes, but no one at Dr. Barnardo's saw to it that I had the proper clothes. I also remember not going to the Christmas party because I had nothing appropriate to wear. Since I found it difficult to study with all of the distractions that surrounded me, I fell behind at school. I was further hampered by surgery I had on my foot that required a rather long recovery. This operation was for hammer toes through wearing shoes and cloggs which did not fit. I had to have three more toes operated on when I was 35. In addition, I got no encouragement from those around me and so I started to play truant. I was eventually thrown out of school and Dr. Barnardo's decided to find me a job. I was totally at mercy of this organisation. It never occurred to anyone to consult with me regarding my likes and dislikes and I found myself working in a shoe shop and I was there only for a couple of weeks before something happened that made me really angry. I still can't remember what it was. It was also during this time that the old woman at the hostel being what she was, stood by and let 4 or 5 girls beat me up on me. In fact, I think there were 2 other staff there as well. Being brought up as hard as nails I made sure they did not get what they wanted and so I did not scream out or cry. The next morning I was carted off and taken to Forest Gate. What an eye opener! It was mainly a home for girls who got themselves into trouble and who were expecting babies. From here we were sent to Stepney Causeway to work. It was set up with offices and it was a horrible place to work. Stepney Causeway had three kitchens with each one being used for different groups of people. There was one kitchen that was for manual staff such as the cleaners and myself, and a kitchen for office staff. The office staff kitchen had a dining room attached where the cutlery was a little bit better. This is where I worked, serving food to the office workers at their mealtime. On the top floor, there was a room set out for the "Heads." You would think that they could have made do like anybody else and the money been spent on the children, but instead, they had special accommodations made just for them. We worked for a pittance, but thankfully, I was not there long. From Stepney Causeway, I went on to Barkingside, which is on the outskirts of London, in Essex. (Petulia Clark used to do shows for radio Luxembourg here at Barkingside). I had never been to Barkingside before, but luckily for me Matron Hudson here. I was able to work at Faith Cottage where there were young babies and children under 5. I felt quite at home here because besides knowing Matron Hudson, Col. and Mrs. Atkins were in charge here at that time. In addition, the lovely lady in charge of the clothes and clothing store was here as well. I loved working at Faith Cottage. It was a beautiful place and I just wanted to take the babies and love them, although you couldn't love one more that the other. I felt settled here and since I enjoyed the work so much I decided I would like to work with children as a career. I asked if I could go to the permanent side of the village where you could do a full training course for nursery work and they said that they would see. For this job you had to do a whole month of nights and though it was hard work, I loved it. We slept in a cottage where we would not be disturbed. One event happened during this time period that I'll never forget. On Coronation Day I went to a street party in London. What a wonderful day! There were all sorts of activities and souvenirs that one could buy. I still have the cup and saucer and plate that I bought that day. I remember when I had my 16th birthday. It was quite funny really because Dr. Barnardo's said that my birthday was 9th September 1937 and yet there was some confusion about the real date, so I celebrated on the 10th, 11th, 12th and 13th. Not until my foster mother sent away for my birth certificate did we realise that I was actually born on 11 September. On my 16th birthday the staff and the matron of Faith Cottage gave me a large box of chocolates and I remember eating some before I went to sleep. When I woke I found that one or two of the people who lived permanently at the cottage had come to have a peek in my bedroom. It was as if they wanted to say something but then they disappeared. I was Summoned to see Mrs. Atkins and found out that while people had gone to church and the Cottage had been empty , five pounds had gone missing from one of the resident's purses. I was accused of something I did not do. I was a Dr. Barnardo girl and had stolen before, so naturally I was suspect number one. It didn't matter what I said, nothing could convince them that I had not taken it. I just gave up and refused to do anything. Although I had a big argument with Mrs. Atkins over this situation, the Colonel was quite kind as usual. As a result of this, however, I ended up at Mossford Lodge. Here again this was mainly a house where people such as the office staff lived. This was like upstairs, downstairs and I was downstairs. We worked washing up and cleaning the silver etc. While I was there I was quite happy until the lady who was in the clothing store wanted to know if anyone had apologised to me. It seems that the person who was the housekeeper where I had slept while on nights had been given the sack because she had stolen some blankets and other items. She may not have stolen the money but I also know that I didn't. Nothing was ever said that might indicate that they had blamed me wrongly. I continued to work there and one day I thought I would go to see Miss Dyson who had been at Stepney and had been the head of fostering children out. I found that she was someone that I could talk to. While there, I had an accident when two of us girls were playing about - we weren't working, as we should have been. I was chasing my friend when she went out of the back door and as I followed my arm went through the glass. I was sent off to the hospital unaccompanied. That was one of the few times I have nearly passed out because it was quite a walk. At the hospital they wanted to know who had brought me in and of course I had to say that I had come by myself. I believe that there were some consequences for that particular decision! I had to wait for the doctor to come and when he arrived I was sent to the hospital in Ilford. After I was stitched up I came back to Barkingside and stayed in hospital there. The day after I came out of hospital we went up to London to see the Queen. She had just come back from an Australian tour and I saw her at Buckingham Palace with the Duke. When I came back to Barkingside I found that I had been moved up to the attics. Next I learned that I was to be interviewed for a job at Wyndham as a mother's helper. Once again I wasn't asked - just told. I had to stay overnight at the Newmarket Hostel that first night. I took the job at Wyndham with a family called the Sutton's and I was there for over a year. The baby I looked after was 6 weeks old and the little girl was nearly 5. As usual with Dr. Barnardo's, once a month the Welfare lady came round. I always hated these visits and I began to think about how I might get out of Dr. Barnardo's. It wasn't that I disliked my job, I just wanted to be free from the constant interference. I decided to join the W.R.A.F. My foster mother, Mrs. Dove, came with me when I went to have my interview. When I told Mr. and Mrs. Sutton I was leaving, they didn't want me to go and even offered to put my money up. But I was determined to change my life and was accepted into the W.R.A.F. . All of this was done without Dr. Barnardo's knowledge. I suppose Mr. and Mrs. Sutton would have told them but the only thought I had was, "Thank goodness, now I am in someone else's care". I had a uniform the same as everyone else, I could talk about my home like everyone else and no one knew that Mrs. Dove wasn't my real mother. It was lovely! It was spoiled however, about 2 weeks before we had finished our "square bashing." One day the officer came into the billet and said to me there was a person from Dr. Barnardo's to see me. I could have curled up and died there and then! It was not her fault because she was only doing her job but I told her exactly how I thought of her and Dr. Barnardo's. Dr. Barnardo's did try writing to my foster mother but she told them to leave me alone - that I was trying to make my own life. I was then posted to the camp where I stayed until I got married. All this time I never knew who my parents were except for the letter I had from my mother. If you asked anyone you got answers like, "You were waiting outside an air raid shelter" or "Your mother was killed". But none of this was true and the different things they told me did not fit into what I remembered. I got married still wondering who I really was. I did finally meet my mother at the age of 26, and out of sheer curiosity. I also went to visit my relations in Kent. I learned that my mother told Dr. Barnardo's a different story to what she had told me. The only thing that rang true was that my father was a cricket coach. My mother was very secretive and I do not know anything about grandparents or aunts or uncles. I keep in touch with my step-sister who is one of four children from my mother's second marriage, and from what I gather, my mother got married in England and went to Canada. When her husband died she came back from Canada and gave up the children. Dr.Barnardo's denies any knowledge of this family. I was about the 6th child I think. At this point my mother used her married name of Peters. In actual fact, if my birth father had any children with someone else, I could have a lot of brothers and sisters who I will never meet. My mother told me my father's name was Fred Smith but she told Dr. Barnardo's that it was Fred Barker. She also told me she had to pay Dr. Barnardo's 3 shillings a week to keep me (this would be 15p today). I am grateful to Mr. Scott from Dr. Barnardo's who came to see me in 1986 to tell me about my history. Not too much was shared however, and it wasn't until it was made law in this country to give us our records that I learned more. During his visit, Mr. Scott showed me quite a few photographs many of which I had seen before, but he also showed me one that was many years old. It turns out to be a photo of myself. It is the only photo I have of myself as a child and somehow it does not seem like me - I feel that it could be a picture of anybody. Mr. Scott's dedication has restored my faith in Dr. Barnardo's. Later, in 1996, I learned that I had two uncles sent to Canada. I am in the process of trying to find them as well as researching the whereabouts of my missing siblings from my mother's first marriage. Although I had bad experiences while in foster care, and often felt bitter about some of the things that happened to me, not all of Dr. Barnardo's children felt as I did. Some were lucky enough to be fostered out in homes where love and understanding existed. In addition, many devoted staff worked in the Barnardo Homes and only the odd one should have sought alternative employment. I myself always felt safe and secure in the homes and found that all of us were treated the same. I think that the experiences that I had growing up were most probably necessary to enable me to cope with bringing up my own family. The things I learned as a result of my early childhood, while painful, did serve in the end to help me to have a better understanding of life. I made a decision that when I married and had children, my children would be brought up in a home with love and understanding and I am grateful that I was able to do this with reasonable success. My husband and I had 5 children and they are all good children making their own way in the world. They have never been in trouble and they are healthy as well. They would do anything to help their Mum and Dad and we would do anything to help them and that is how it should be. I am also a grandmother now of 13 grandchildren and I find this experience very enjoyable as well. I think somehow or other God gave me the strength to get through my childhood and made it up to me later in life by giving me such a lovely family. For this I must be grateful. CONCLUSION When you hear on the radio and television now of children being ill-treated and that social workers are not noticing or doing anything about it, I am reminded that this is not something new. These kinds of things have been going on for years and years and I can't help but wonder why we don't seem to be learning. I was lucky, neighbours reported the abuse that I encountered at the hands of my mother and stepfather. People who report bad cases of treatment should be taken seriously. No one wants to interfere with other people's affairs and it's not pleasant to have to get involved in that way and yet they do it. They should be supported. I think in this life we hear and we listen but we do not learn. Sometimes social workers go to college for a year but they have no experience at all. Only when they have been out with experienced social workers and seen how the professionals go about their work, should they be let out on their own.. Otherwise, they could put children at risk just because they have a bit of paper. A good social worker should have love and understanding. It is like being a doctor or a nurse, it's a vocation, not just a job. Social workers are required to see and hear of terrible treatment of children and yet they have the power to change situations to some degree. If they use the power they have to advocate for, and improve the quality of a child's life, this is very probably all they require in return. It needs to be acknowledged that there are really good people out there and I think that working in a children's home or doing anything involving under-privileged children requires dedication. I myself like looking after elderly people. There again I do not think that this country does enough for the generation of our citizens that has been through two World Wars. I was in auxiliary nursing for 6 years with a lot of elderly patients, some of whom had never been in hospital before in their lives. When they came in they were frightened and all you had to do to reassure them was give them a little comfort. That did as much for them as a doctor and his medicine. I am sharing my story but it is to difficult to talk about the physical and mental abuse I suffered in three different foster homes long before I went to Mrs. Dove's. Through the Internet I have found Carol who I sent my story to and she has written it much better than I could. Also I would like to thank all who have helped me find a cousin in Canada who's father and his fathers brother was a B.H.C. sent to Canada also second cousins in Canada, relations in America also second cousins in this country England. I still have not found my half brothers or sisters but keep on trying. I have written to the Canada Registry office because as we cannot find any trace of my mothers first marriage in this country, we think she may not have gone to Canada on holiday but was in fact sent as a B.H.C. as a child I have found out that a sister of my two uncles who went to Canada also went but no body seemed to know where. I realise that many B.H.C. had a terrible time and I love to read mail where it says "From the proud granddaughter, Grandson of a B.H.C." You should be proud of them. When we were young we were treated as nothing now we can hold our heads high because we all made it in the difficult world we lived in. We had to learn lessons fast when we were young which has stood us in good stead now. If being in England I can help others where I can, in finding their roots I will. Thank you for reading this and keep on searching. God blesses you all. Viv
