BALHAM
LONDON ENGLAND
The Church of England Society for Providing Homes for Waifs and Strays
(now the Children’s Society) told my Father he was born on Larch Road,sometime
in September 1909. Robin’s research
concluded that his Mother left his Grandfather to have him at the home of a
relative. In 1996, Robin found that from 1907-1914, a Herbert
Gifford lived at 2 Larch Road, Balham, London. She may have stayed with another of her family when she had my
William Alfred Snow in Tooting in 1912.
It was less than a mile from Balham.
The home had long been
demolished and replaced by an apartment block.
I took this picture of the back of a block of houses just as a sample of
the type of homes adjacent to where my father might have been born. The intersection of Larch Close and Bedford
Hill. It would have been terrific to
see the home where my Father was born, but I was satisfied just to find the
neighbourhood and street. He may have
lived here the first 3 years of his life with his Mother and Father. His Brother William Alfred Snow was born on
29 August 1912, in Tooting, when he was about to turn three years old. In May 1913, he was 3¾ years old, his
Brother Bill was 9 months old, and his Mother (35) was a month pregnant with
his Sister Violet.
His Mother took him to his
Grandfather John George Snow (55), Jack (8), and Amy (6) in Croydon. The Waifs and Strays
told him he was “abandoned by his parents.”
His parents may have split up or his Mother took him there because he
may have had German Measles (Rubella) in early 1913. She may have feared exposure during the
first trimester of her pregnancy with his Sister Violet. In any event, the trigger for his being
taken was that his step-brother and step-sister were taking him to school with
them. In 1913, London had 25,000
underage children being taken to school by their older siblings.
The Vicar at St. Peter’s Church described Great
Grandfather as having “very uncertain employment, often being out of
work. At best, he has about 30
shillings (£1.50) per week for 8 months out of the 12 months.” John Allen and Amy Alice had to go to the
Church’s back door “Soup Kitchen” for food.
The Vicar wrote, “This man was very good to the child, although it was
not his, and he had been so
wronged, but having the two children of his own to work for & feed &
clothe, and having very little work to do, they were almost at starvation’s
door.”
I felt more uncomfortable walking around the churchyard
than I expected I would. The Church had
screened mesh over its windows. It was
heavily locked and covered in graffiti.
Although it was cold outside in the yard, I imagined how cold it was
inside. It did not appear to be a
placed warmed by human kindness. I
thought of all the years my family had written to this place, trying to obtain
information. My Father was baptized
here after the Police apprehended him in 1913.
He did not get a copy of his Baptism Certificate until he was 48 years
old. His age was scratched out. It
appeared to read as 4 years old, but underneath was a “½.” Could he have been
only 3½ years old when he was apprehended?
Was this legal? I wondered how
many children were taken from their homes, placed in care, shipped to Canada at
the first opportunity, never to see their families again. It was probably uncharitable of me, but I
swore, kicked the ground, and quickly walked away.
Robin
suggested that we might have time to stop by the Children’s Society. He thought we might have a chat with the
Archivist who tried so hard to keep information from me. I told him I didn’t think I was up to that
and wondered if I ever would be. After
all the lies that have been revealed, I’m not sure what we would have to talk
about. I doubt they would have any
answer to the question of, “Why did you lie to us?”