Anybody worked here?

[gmarshman]

Hello Zakes.

Just spotted your job moves .

I worked at BSC Tubes Division Rutland Road 1970 to 1972.

I worked as a sales bod with Slotter{Peter Carr} who I still see regularly.

I remember Charlie Doxey the foreman , and Slotts recalls Ian Plant.

I used to go to the Forest pub sometimes.

Who do you remember ?

 

Gary Marshman, North Wales

[pigeon]

Anybody work or had dealings at or with the following companies? Dates are approximate give a year or two lol! Between 1969 - 75

 

1. Davy's - Fargate - food 1969

2. Roberts and Belk - Furnival Street - silver 1970

3. Davison's - West Street - silver - 1971

4. Wigfall's - most warehouses - tellies, washing machines etc. 1971 - 72

5. British Steel Tubes division - Rutland Road - near Forest pub 1972

6. Brightside and Carbrook - Fretson Road / Fairleigh - butchers 1972

7. Neville Watts - Fitzwilliam Street - ironmongers 1972

8. Globe and Simpson - West Street - car spares 1973

9. Waring and Gillow (Proctors) - Fargate - furniture 1974

10. Farm - opposite Old Harrow - White Lane 1975

11. Francis Colley - Garden Street - safety clothing 1973

 

quantum leap from 1975 farm to 1973 ??/ not bad is it Davy the bakers:thumbsup:

[zakes]

ANYBODY WORKED HERE? DAVY'S.

 

 

In 1969, I left Hurlfield School to work at Arther Davy (Davy's). That sold groceries and provisions. I can't remember (unusual) how I got the jobs, but do remember being somewhat nervous going to my first day there. This was easily overcome thpugh because I kept telling myself I would at the end of the week be geting paid, 5 quid and a bit. From the 5 pounds, I paid my parents a quid for bed and board. A decent deal. Lol

 

Davy's had many shops, including those at - Cambridge ST, West St, Haymarket, Frecheville, Hackenthorpe, Eckington, Rotherham and many other places. I worked at the Fargate branch. At the age of 15 it was the first time in my life that I felt really comfortable among a group of adults. Looking back to all those years ago I can genuinely say it was a great time of the life. In all the jobs I had atween 1969 - 75 (went abroad 1975, aged 21), Davy's was the best of them, followed by a great time at Wigfalls, "the working man's best friend"

 

Davy's on Fargate was where WH. Smith now stands. Just below the top floor you can still see cow and sheep heads carved in (on) the stonework if you lookup whilst standing in the middle of Fargate. Just above WH. Smith's shop door there is a white/grey cable running across the width of the shop for the lighting and alarm. The botch job is not only ugly, but the electrician has also chopped away stone features in 12 places at least to lay the cable. SACRILEGE! No doubt the council turned a blind eye. Go take a look.

 

Inside the Davy's shop were counters on the left wall, right wall, and back wall. There were also several counters in a row in the middle of the floor where staff could serve from all four sides. Davy's sold coffee, bread, cakes, buns, pastries, pies, fresh meat, cheese, deli stuff, confection, chicken freshly roasted and other eatables. I never had to bring sandwiches to work. LOL. In the far left corner just after the butchery counter was a little cafe with wickerwork type seating and tables. It was like a snack bar, but very cosy.

 

Behind the inside of the shop was a long wooden ramp leading to a long room on the right where we boned (de - boned) sides of bacon. There were also 2 slicing machines for ham, tongue, brawn, cheese, etc. Down the ramp were also changing rooms for females and males, 2 or 3 enormous freezer and fridge rooms, a big storeroom for big heavy rolls of cheese, and 2 cage like lifts with concertina like gates and other storerooms.

 

The top 2 floors were used by the Victoria Cafe (resturant). The top floor for the cafe, and the floor below was for storage purposes. Entry to the Victoria Cafe was by staircase which was situated directly on the left on entering the shop from Fargate. We in the shop didn't have much to do with the Victoria Cafe which was run somewhat stringently by Mr. Otley. More about him later. The Victoria Cafe workers had their own lift, situated up Exchange Gateway.

 

To the left of Davy's (looking from Fargate) was and still is a lane called Exchange Gateway. Up this lane was a covered bridge that spanned across from the first floor behind the back of the shop to some halls where packaged bread was stored (fresh bread free of packaging was always delivered straight to the shop). Inside the halls on the back wall were loads of idle standing heavy duty old iron ovens where bread used to be baked. Long before my time at Davy's the baking had already been transferred to Paternoster Row. Fresh cream, black pudding, polony among other things were also made at Paternoster Row.

 

The customers may have thought the shop and Victoria Cafe was the whole complex, but it wasn't. Apart from the "catacombs" at the back of the shop, there was loads more going on. Davy's stretched across the back of businesses which are now, O2 shop, New Look, Headline Elite, Purfume shop and possibly River Island. The iron ovens and halls would have been at the back of these shops. The above named shops would have been in 1969, Lavell's confection, a building called Winchester (?) House which had stylo shoe shop in it (above the shop were some businesses) Burdall (?) Drapers shop and Burnley building solciety. Alot of this area behind the facades has changed over the years due to re-building and Orchard Square, especially behind the row where Waterstones stands.

 

As a matter of (un)interest below Davy's were Jackson the Tailor, Peter Lord shoe shop, Lennards shoe shop and Proctors Furniture (I worked as a driver's mate at Proctors 3 or 4 year later. Proctors was later called Waring and Gillow)

 

My job at Davy's was working as a drudge, fulfilling menial tasks. I shared this job at the bottom of the ladder with three other lads who were all a year older than me. John Taylor, Dave and Spike (Malcolm). We were all smokers of Park Drive Plain. I enjoyed working with these three and it was almost A-laugh-A-minute. The things we had to do included: Unloading lorries and vans that delivered, rolling cheese into the shop, boning sides of bacon, meat slicing, stacking bread, bringing frozen stuff from the fridges and freezers into the shop, hanging sides of meat, fetching and carrying and to keep all the counters stocked up. Due to the shop having loads of customers, we at time hardly had the time to catch breath.

 

It was all go but we loved it. One task we all liked to do was to deliever parcels on foot in and around the city centre by hand or at times by sack barrow. There was a Margaret Rutherford (Miss Marple) type of woman at Davy's who allocated that job, which we four used to jostle for because it gave the lucky one the chance to disappear for an hour or two. The parcels were delievered to other Davy's shops, and private addresses on Wilkinson St, Cell ST, Orange ST, and Vincents offices on Solly ST and others. The parcels were mainly filled with coffee.

 

Renee (Reaney) and Winnie were two most wonderful ladies who were getting on in years. these two special ladies took a shine to me and treated me like a grandso. They needed someone each day to fulfil a task and they chose me everytime. I had to go mid morning up to the Victoria Cafe to fetch a piping hot freshly cooked salmon for the delicatessen counter at the back wall of the shop. Coming back down in the lift I'd pick holes out of the fish and fill me face. When I got to the counter both ladies would see the mess I'd made of the fish, and would look at me as if to say, "oh you naughty boy, we'll now have to turn the salmon the other way around so that it looks presentable to the customers." Then they smiled whilst wagging a finger at me. Sadly, they'll both be gone now. Bless them.

 

The delivery of coffee to Davy's was on Thursday afternoons. The coffee beans arrived in large Hessian sacks by lorry. When the delivery driver pulled the sacks to the tailboard we lads would pull the sacks off the back. The sacks were very heavy and would fall deadweight to the floor. We would then struggle dragging them across the lane and into the storeroom inside the building. There were always lots of sacks of coffee because Davy's always sold lots of coffee. LOL.

 

On one occasion we lads were preparing to pack up for the day just before 17:30, when Mr Reid (our boss) asked us if we could stay longer until the coffee man arrived, who was late. We were reluctant to stay, but he said he would "see us right" if we waited. We decided to stay. just before 18:00 the coffee had arrived and had been put into the storeroom. Mr Reid then gace each of us 2 half-crowns apiece which was the equivalent of 2 hours pay, tax free. After that occasion we 4 always hoped and prayed the coffee man would come late on Thursday, which he often did. Mr Reid always paid us the money but sometimes with 2 ten bob notes to share atween us. More about Mr Reid, the perfect boss, later.

 

It wasn't always all work and no play at Davy's, there were times when we 4 had a reight laugh. The instances listed below were known to everybody including management. How we got awat with it was a mystery to me, even now 45 years later.

 

1) The Vicar.

There was a tubby bloke (Tony?) who was a chef upstairs in the Victoria cafe. We called him The Vicar because he was in the Salvation Army. I believe he came from the Wombwell area, but in spite of this we did take him seriously most of the time. At other times he was seen as an Aunt Sally (excuse pun)

 

A couple of times a week post dinner time, The Vicar would come down in the lift to our mess room. With him he brought what we called a Bamboreen (SP), a larged sized cooking pot (cauldron). in the pot were the still hottish leftovers from Victoria Cafe's soup of the day. One of us 4 lads would then dash through the "catacombs", then over the lane to the halls to come back with a twelve pack or two of bridge rolls. We'd then sit crossed legged on the floor around the giant pot and "dip our bread". What was left over afterwards would be tipped down the bog. If I remember rightly The Vicar played tuba or drum in the Sally Army Band.

 

2) Downstairs Cafe.

During each week the small cafe downstaris in the far left corner had half-day closing (Tues or Thurs). Occasionally on the afternoon of the half-day we 4 would do a raid of the place. We necked loads of orange from the machine that had a plastic orange floating upon the surface. We also enjoyed a few chocolate wafer bars.

 

3) Football.

Sometimes we lads became bored during dinner break and would get back to working, afterall we love working at Davy's. At times though we'd go over the lane to the almost derelict halls to play football for a while. 2-a-side was still enjoyable. As we didn't have a football or tennis ball we wuld use a loaf of bread or a pack of bridge rolls. When any of these "footballs" broke up into bits we would get another one and use that. Being tidy lads, when we had finished playing we'd sweep up all the bits and crumbs then tip them into the lane for pigeons, sparrows and starlings to have a feast. The halls were only used for storing sealed (packged) break and for...

 

4) Mankin'

Deliberately or not, people always seem to assume that men are the ones who start hanky panky. I can assure you that at Davy's this "discusting" pastime was often instigated by the "weaker sex". This type of activity also took place in the lifts and various storerooms.... Somebody please hurry up and invent a time machine. LOL.

 

5) Peas and bread trays.

mid afternoon each weekday a Davy's van would come up the lane (Exchange Gateway) to collect empty wooden bread delivery trays from the premises to take back to Paternoster Row. These trays were to be found all over the show in places like, the shop, at the bottom of the ramp leading to the "catacombs" in the lane (piled up), and in the halls where sealed bread was store. When the Davy's man came to collect the trays from the halls one the first floor, he would take the lift. When he was in the lift we 4 would at times be on the second floor (where Victoria Cafe stuff was store) in position with the concertina left gates open so we could see down the lift shaft. When the Davy's bloke set the lift in motion (the lift worked even with the gates open on the second floor) we would tilt towards the lift shaft a large barrel like bin full of hard peas. The peas would then rain down onto the Davy's tray man. The peas were then followed by a bread tray or two. All this made a reight racket and the Davy's driver would be effing and blinding and threatening to give us a good duffing over if he ever got hold of us. the tray collector hadn't been in any danger because there was a sturdy wire mesh roof to the lift (all the lifts had at Davy's) which he had to force upwards to wangle the bread trays out.

 

6) Mr Otley.

Mr Otley was (I think) the man in charge at Victoria Cafe on the top floor of the Davy's building on Fargate. Mr Otley was always immaculately dressed, and looked like a hotel director, bank manager, or a post waiter, or a posh butler. There are no words available to describe the face of the grey haired self important Mr Otley, who liked to carry with him his unopened black umberella regardless of the weather of the day. His attire was a smart black jacket, white shirt, a dicky bow tie, grey and black thin striped trousers and black leather shoes that gleamed and shone so that one could quite easily use them as a mirror to check their hair. He could have also used the shoes to peek up ladies skirts, although I suspect he would have been happy enough to wait for a kilted Scotsman to walk by. Mr Otley spoke quite poshly, was a snob and a miserable sod. I was glad I didn't work for him.

 

Early afternoon in early November 1969 we lads were on the first floor in the halls, leaning on the sill looking out of the opened window into the lane (Exchange Gateway). One of us lads (shall remain nameless) had with him some fireworks. He had 5 minutes prior set off a banger which had echoed in the hall making us momenterily deaf. He was itching to set some more off but couldn't decide where to do it, when lo and behold Mr Otley came into view strolling up the lane. We stepped slightly back from the window then waited for Otley to pass by, then our lad cobbed a lit banger out of the window to land just behind him (Otley). The sound of the banger exploding made Mr Otley jump out of his skin, he looked stunned and shocked especially when the next banger went off near to him.

 

Mr Otley then crouched down and it looked as if he was waiting for a stray Sheffield Blitz bomb to land and send him to kingdom come. He stayed in that position for what seemed like an age, then he straightened up. He must of heard our laughter, because the next thing we heard was him shouting, then we heard the gates slamming together, then came the humming sound of the lift coming upwards. In panic we ran to the end of the hall and went down the stone steps. We didn't risk crossing over the lane in case Otley saw us. We pelted full tilt down the lane to come out on Fargate, turned left then casually walked into the shop.

 

15 minutes or so later Barry (who must have been given the job) from the butchery counter, had rounded us up and took all 4 of us to Mr Reid's office (Barry used to play Sunday football in the same team as my eldest brother)

 

In the office we 4 were stood in a row with our hands behind our backs. Mr Reid then told Mr Otley that we were his (Reid's) boys and he'd take care of things. Mr Otley left redfaced and fuming. Mr Reid then tore a strip of each of us and asked if we had anything to say. We remained silent. He searched us all and found some bangers and a Roman candle, but no rockets. He continued to give us a rocket about our outlandish behaviour and threatened to sack us all if we didn't change our ways. Then he said... "did it really happen, I wish I'd been there to see it?) Then he broke into loud uncontrollable laughter which confused us somewhat. It was then that i realised that no love was lost between him and Mr Otley. He then ordered us to get back to work. Due to Mr Reids good mood I had been tempted to ask for a pay rise, but thought it best not to push my luck.

 

7) We love chocolate.

One day Sake and I were given a job to do by the Miss Marple type woman (mentioned earlier). The task was to empty a small storeman on the first floor of it's stock, then to bin it. The dark red coloured door to the storeroom looked rusty and the hinges were covered in cobwebs. I don't recall whether somebody had found an old key or had forced the door open.

 

To be continued...

[zakes]

Anyroad, the small room was fully beshelved on the walls left, right and back. All shelves were filled to capacity with chocolate. One wall was full with boxed Easter eggs, one wall with boxes of Creme Eggs, and the third wall had boxes of After Eights mints. The air was muffly, musky and musty due to the stock having gone off. Many of the boxes were also leaking. Why or how the stock was ignored for many years is anybody's guess. Such expensive waste was certainly not gonna gring me any closer to a pay rise.

 

Spike and me as usual got stuck in and an hour or so later we were finished what had been asked of us. Our lovely whiter than white smocks were in areight old state covered in cobwebs and melted chocolate. This didn't prevent us two from bunkering a load of the stuff over the lane in one of the halls for the 4 of us to have a feast later on.

 

During dinner break we 4 ate a load of the Eggs and After Eights after firstly wiping off bits of whitey grey mould. Mid afternoon we all bogged off to the lav for a serious puking session.

 

Own Stall - During my time at Davy's I had excelled so much Mr Reid asked me if I would like to have my own stall. I was a good worker and I was trusted and was well respected. It had come as no surprise to me when Mr Reid had offered me the promotion. Afterall I was his favourite worker.

I was to have my own till and sole control of the stall. The stall was a two-in-one type stall, one part selling spit roasted chickens and one part selling pies, pasties etc. The job entailed me getting frozen chickens out of the freezer first thing each morning and wait for them to thaw out. Prepare the pies then switch the heat on. by mid morning the pies were ready for sale, and the chickens we spitted up and on the go. Whilst waiting for the chickens to be ready I would be doing some on my old duties with the other 3 lads. At the days end I had to clean the cooking apparatus of fat until it shined. At xmas time I got plenty of tops from regular customers who I had served and become friendly with.

 

Mr Reid the Manager - Mr Reid who hailed from Leeds, treated me in a way that was reminiscent of a dad, uncle or grandfather. He could tell me off in a gentle voice explaining what I had done wrong, then in the same soft voice build me back up again. If I had done well he'd go out of his way to give me a verbal pat on the back. These verbal pats on the back had the hair on the back of my neck standing up, and I'd become covered in goose pimples. That was how he always treated his staff, but he was also nobody's fool.

 

Mr Reid, aged 50ish, was circa 5ft 7 small, was bald apart from hair at the temples and rear of his head. He was lefthanded, fresh faced and pigeon toed. When he walked he seemed to glide. He came to work in a green wool suit, but sometimes in a brown suit. Within 5 minutes of being at work he would discard his suit jacket and would don a white smock as all the workers at the shop did. If somebody worked very hard and had pleased Mr Reid, he would later come back to that person (sometimes me) with a carrier bag. In the bag were things like pies or chickenm chops, steaks etc. When handing over the carrier bag he would say "if anybody asks, tell them you got it from me." I used to love the tomato sausages.

 

After every task was completed Mr Reid always used to say "Don't forget to wash your hands before you start the next job"

Mr Reid was a true gentleman.

 

Zakes Sacked - After almost 1 year working at Dany's I was given the boot. It had srved me right for being so naughty and pigheaded. Mr Reid was heartbroken and almost in tears because he was going to be losing his favourite worker and favourite "son". I could and should have been sacked by Mr Reid long before I did get sakced, for all the other misdemenours of the past, but he kept giving me new chances. I had enjoyed myself at Davy's and it became clear to me after the sacking the things I would miss, including :

A) The carrier bags full of food to take home having worked hard

B) The cash given in hand for working overtime

C) A blind eye turned regarding my occasional lateness

D) Allowed to have Saturdays (busiest day) off which rankled others including the lads

E) Comradeship

F) The best boss I ever had (surpassed, only by a female boss in Germany who I worked with for 8 years)

All of the above was made possible by Mr Reid.

 

The sacking - It was one morning when I was waiting for the chickens to thaw out. I was asked by a cleaner - cum- tidyupper if I could move some stuff for her. I had done her this favour many times before in the past. Although I was (and still am) an obliging person, I did tell her in the past that it was her job and not mine to be moving the stuff. On this particular day I refused her request because it was quite clear she was using me. We had a squabble and I swore (cowbag) at her, which resulted in her stomping off and searching Mr Reid out to report me. As soon as I had sworn at her I was really angry with myself, because I had been brought up to respect my elders, and certainly never to swear at them.

 

About 5 minutes later Mr Reid and the cleaner arrived on the scene. Mr Reid asked me if it was true what the cleaner had told him. I confirmed every detail of what she had said. He asked me to apologise to her, which I refused to do. During the next ten minutes or so he asked me loads of times to apologise, but I stood firm. Eventually Mr Reid told me to "get your jacket, and collect what's owing to you,and your P45 on Friday".

I left the premises then went to the youth employment place on West Street. Within the hour I went for an interview as an apprentice Silversmith at Rogers and Belk on Furnival Street. I got the job and was to be starting on the coming Monday.

 

On Friday morning I was back at Davy's sat in Mr Reid's office with Mr Reid. after a short discussion he reached over to me my wage packet and P45. I reached to take the items from him, but he then withdrew his hand and said "It's not too late Zakes, all you have to do is apologise to the cleaner." I told him it was too late because I'd be starting a new job on Monday. On leaving the office with Mr Reid I turned to him and told him I wanted to apologise to the cleaner, but I'd still be leaving." This stunned him but he did grant me my request. We found the cleaner then I heartily apologised to her.

 

A few moments later Mr Reid was escorting (in a nice way) me through the shop past sympathetic faces to the door. It was at this moment when I realised my stupidity, I knew I was going to miss the people and the whole set up at Davy's. At the door Mr Reid gave me my final chance by saying "have a good think about things over the weekend, and hopefully we'll see you on Monday morning." moments later, I was walking down Fargate with tears streaming down my face. The stiff upper lip hadn't worked.

 

---------- Post added 29-08-2014 at 14:44 ----------

 

Some months later, I had finished work one Friday and decided to go to the Foresters (Whitbread) pub on Division Street. This pub is where some of the Davy's people had a quick drink after work on Friday. Some of those people included the three lads I had worked with at Davy's. On arrrival at the pub Bill Stewart the landlord greeted me and asked me how I was, then he poured me a pint of Trophy (I was 16 at the time and had supped there since I was 15). I then went into the small jukebox room. There were about 10 people from Davy's in the room and they all were pleased to see me, as I was them.

 

After all the pleasantries had been spoken one of my old colleagues smilingly pulled me to the side, then dropped a bombshell by saying... "Reidy's died, he died recently of a heart attack". The lad obviously thought I would be pleased, due to the fact Mr Reid had sacked me. Without having taken a swig from my pint I turned on my heel and exited the pub. Walking down Division Street I felt absolutely devastated and was inconsolable. R.I.P great man.

 

Thankyou for listening.

Zakes

[cuttsie]

Thanks for the telling Zakes .

[darra]

Hi Zakas I used to work at the Sheffield Smelting Company in the labs and analysed many a silver sample from Roberts and Belk

[zakes]

Anybody worked here?

 

Ref: Post 29 by BullerboY: Globe & Simpson, West Street.

 

Nah then BullerboY, I enjoyed reading your post. It also reminded me of some things I had forgotten to mention in my previous posts on this thread.

 

1. You mentioned Brian Payne and Mr Brailsford. I remember these two, as well as Brian Morgan and Dave Skelton. There was also another Brian, who was small, slim, friendly and loquacious. He wore Michael Caine type bins, drove a fawn coloured Robin Reliant car, and he lived on't Base Green estate. Does tha know him? There was also a woman called Amy [pal of Brian Payne]. She used to give me many a time a good flash of her stocking tops and suspenders. Attempting to embarrass a nice nineteen year old boy like me was disgusting behaviour. Lol. I think Brian Payne had put her up to it though.

 

2. You certainly hit the brad on the bonce, when you said there were lots of good looking girls at Globe's. I recall one dinner time a lass coming over and plonking herself down upon my left knee. I think the other females there had put her up to it. We had a smooch, but I think it best not to say here on't Forum what exactly went on/off in mi head. lol. I don't remember the girl's name but I believe she lived in Deepcar. Did Brian Payne live in Deepcar?

 

3. I also remember an initiation I received at G&S. To get from the stores to the lav I had to traverse the garage. Having splashed mi boots, I came back into the garage and was pounced upon by the mechanics. I was then carried at shoulder height around the garage, then lowered in standing position into a large drum of swaffy Swarfega. Chuffs! lol.

 

4. You seem to be well genned up on mechanics, garages etc. Do you know of a Mr Dimberline at Monty's Motors? I used to pack and send to him items, but I can't remember if I was at that time working for Globe and Simpson or for Neville Watts Ironmongers.

 

 

Agreed, we need a machine to wind back the clock.

 

 

Zakes.

[zakes]

Anybody worked here?

 

Greetings JGill506,

 

Please accept my apologies for the late response, but don’t forget that all good things come slowly. Lol.

 

1. I was at Neville Watts for 1 year and 1 week in 1972-73.

 

2. During my time at N.W. there was only the one delivery van which was firstly driven by Tom Lunn. After Tom had sadly passed away the next driver was Frank Wong, a Liverpudlian of Chinese origin.

 

3. The van was a BMC 250JU and was yellow in colour. The van had a passenger and driver window and a windscreen. No other windows. The van didn’t have writing on the sides. This vehicle type can be found on Google. I think the van was a 60’s model because when I was there it looked quite well worn.

 

4. My boss Vernon Outram had a brother (name I can’t remember) who owned Shaw’s Ironmongers on Duchess Road. They had a van which was also yellow. The van was a Commer that was the same model as the Post Office Telephone vans of those days. The van had Shaw’s printed on the sides.

 

5. There is an Ironmongers in Doncaster called Outrams. It’s a big possibility the owners are the sons or grandsons of the above 2 mentioned. If you gerrin touch with them they may have photos of Neville Watts and Shaws.

 

6. Anymore questions? – P.M. me. This should guarantee a quicker response.

 

Zakes

[raizuli3]

I was the van driver for Shaws ironmongers when they had the shop on South St, in the 60's before they moved to Duchess Rd....the brother of Vernon Outram was called Derek....he was something to do with Ecclesfield Beagles.