Snippets by David Harris, East Leeds Lad who Remembers the Good Times

Snippets by David Harris
Old East Leeds Lad who remembers the good times.
I remember Dave at St Hilda’s School he was a couple of years behind me and he didn’t have an easy start to life but he was always upbeat and full of fun and he was a member of our tiny school football team that won the Denmark Trophy in 1953. He has regaled us before on this site with three great tales: ‘The Glencoe Railway Children.’ A Token for True Grit’ and ‘A Ticket to Ride.’
Here he is again with some snippets of his early life in East Leeds
There was a period in my early life when I was in a perilous state, out of funds and nowhere to stay, to my rescue came Mrs Callaghan who lived with a large family in Bridgewater Place a slightly run down block of houses unkindly tagged by locals as ‘Mulligan’s Mansions’ due to its residents being mostly large families of Irish folk who tended to lead their lives a little out of step with the rest of us but I’ll have nothing bad said of them they were as good as gold to me but not to be messed with by outsiders, It is rumoured that one family had made a hole in their bedroom wall so they could converse with their neighbours next door but I didn’t witness that but I do remember that from somewhere we got fifty dead hens and we all sat around plucking them, then we had to eat them until we were fed up with them.
Later I lived in the Glencoe streets and I remember a lady called Annie Green giving me 2/6 to take a Tom cat to be destroyed by the vet down Hunslet but the cat fought so much in the sack I took it back to her and gave he her 2/6 back. I helped Aunty Elsie scrub her steps for seven pence and then helped her husband get the coal in.
I used to go to the youth club at St Hilda’s but you had to go to church on a Sunday and I liked fishing the vicar took me on one side and said why weren’t you at church on Sunday and I said I went fishing so he said if you put fishing before god you can’t come to the youth club anymore so that was that.
One Saturday morning when I was about fourteen I was volunteered to sell flags for some charity can’t remember what it was now but I was selling them in the main row of Leeds Market and doing well people were buying flags and putting the money into the tin, This older lad came up and said. ‘Look why don’t you tell them to put the money for the flags onto your tray I’ll take the box away and we’ll have a share out of the money,’ Of course he was a big lad and I was naive and I went along with him he took the box away and I never saw him again and I had to go crying with my tale to the school teacher on Monday morning.
Like all old St Hilda’s lads I have tales to tell about Joseph Street Baths and Cleggy, demon woodwork teacher at Victoria School where we had to go on Friday afternoons for woodwork. Cleggy was legend we were warned of his antics by older lads before we were about twelve and had to deal with him proper. They would tell if you misbehave he throws pieces of 2×1 timber at you and if you spoil a job he would make you put your hand on a bench tell you to spread your fingers and he would go in and out of your fingers with a chisel if you moved your hand you had lost a finger his other trick was to lay your head on the bench and say do you want the chisel or the mallet if you chose the mallet you had you lay your head on the bench and he would bang the hammer on the bench close to your head so your head vibrated from the shock I never actually saw him carry out this punishment but he seemed well capable of doing it, if you were lucky he just put your work piece in vice and twisted the vice until it destroyed your piece. Ellerby Lane School had their woodwork classes at Edgar Street and evidently had a woodwork teacher who served out similar acts of retribution. We had another demon on our school trips to Joseph Street Baths who had a big stick with which he would push us under the water if we were not framing on our swimming lessons. We had to walk all the way down and all the way back from St Hilda’s to Joseph Street Baths in Hunslet but we would treat ourselves to salt biscuits on the way back if we had any money. Perhaps as a result of these extreme actions The Victoria School Woodworking Department turned out many skilled carpenters and joiners and Joseph Street Baths many good swimmers.
As we got older we carried out the dastardly pranks that older lads had traditionally done to by shoving the young ‘uns down the steps and into the boiler room where the fumes from the coke brought tears to your eyes I remember one of the kids who we traumatised in the boiler room was a young Paul Reaney who went on to play for Leeds United and England we did it under the guise that It would ‘tougher ‘em up.
Dave was very critical of his own academic achievements and I didn’t want to go there with the degrading of himself but he insisted so I had to comply: Me and my good mate usually occupied the bottom two places when we had exams, the teacher said I was useless and gave me odd jobs like taking round the milk, making the powdered ink and filling the ink wells, blowing the footballs up for football practise and studding the boots etc. but anything physical was a different matter I was captain of the football team, a good left arm bowler at cricket, the fastest runner and the best gymnast, it was me that had to shin up the flag pole to free the flag when it was necessary, When I left school I became a joiner and eventually had my own roofing company – not bad for someone pronounced useless at school was it?
regularly got the cane off Mr Child, we all did, he would swish the cane about a bit before he started and then slapped his trousers leg with it saying, ‘These are not proper canes I’ll get some proper canes when the war is over.’ but by the time he’d got a supply of ‘real canes’ as he called them caning had become outlawed. I remember ‘fights‘ organised on the hollows below the school and bogey runs down ‘Nozzy’ Hill, And ‘bagwash’ does anybody remember ‘bagwash?’ you used to pack up all your dirty washing in a big bag and take it to a shop somewhere in Dial Street and they would give you a time and you could collect your bag back with all the washing done.
We loved football we were only a small school but we played above our weight we won the Denmark Trophy at Oldfield Lane in 1953 and I got a medal wish I still had it now, We once drew at home to the mighty Victoria School in a cup tie but they beat us 13-nil in the replay on their ground.
When I was 14 years old me and three other lads from St Hilda’s under the supervision of Mr Hunter a school teacher at St Hilda’s were selected to go to the Leeds School Camp at Langbar near Ilkley and help prepare it for the opening to the Leeds schools over the summer. Different schools had the use of the camp for a week each over the summer period, we had to scrub floors, fix up windows and generally make it shipshape they would give us 5/- each at weekends to go spend it in Ilkley. We also got to attend the camp when it was St Hilda’s turn to go there I recall the huts had names like ‘Nesfield’ and ‘Langbar’ and there was a lager memorial hall we used for meals and the end of week dance etc. Mr Podmore was in charge and there was Peter the cook among others they organised walks for us to places like Beamsley Beacon and Bolton Abbey. Those in charge of us were quite severe with us if you stepped out of place they would tap you with a cane in the middle of your forehead. One lad had a tale that on his walk they stopped at a tiny building they said was a temple and there would have to make a sacrifice one lad was told he had to bend over a stone they called the alter and they lifted his shirt up and told him he would have to be branded to satisfy the sacrifice then the guy touched his bare flesh with the metal ferrule of his stick and as it seems supreme cold and boiling hot initially feels the same the lad screamed out thinking he had been branded and of course we all laughed but can you imagine a teacher being allowed to do something like that today?
On the last night we had a so called ‘feast’ and we were fed a concoction called ‘lucky pudding,’
‘Why is it called lucky pudding?’ I asked.
Because after you’ve eaten it you will be lucky to get to the toilet in time. Sure enough in the middle of the night I felt a rumbling in my stomach and I made a run or the latrine but I didn’t make it and I filled my long John’s and had to dispose of them the next morning when we were lined up a teacher walked along the line with my soiled long John’s on a stick, ‘Who do these belong to,’ he wanted to know but I felt it better to keep my head down.
A Few other things I remember: one day when we set of with the school to football practice on Snake Lane it had been snowing and it was so deep we couldn’t play so Mr Hunter said, ’Let’s have a snow ball fight but one lad made an ice ball rather than a snow ball and he hit Mr Hunter in the face with it and knocked him out. On Sunday afternoons some old guys used to play ‘pitch and toss’ and we used to ‘dog out’ for them as It was illegal. One of my mates had a double headed penny.
We had a Scottish board-man who was always on the lookout for kids bunking off school he caught me out of school one day going to the chemist for my sister on my skates and he took me back to school and I had to go into the classroom still in my skates with all the girls laughing at me.
I used to help change the reels at the picture house when the black dot came up you knew it was nearly time to change the reel. Most of all we used to love to play football 20/30 a side on Snake Lane. If you turned up they would pair you up with the next lad who turned up and you would play one on each side it was a while before you realised who was on your side as everyone just played in their ordinary clothes, you don’t seem to see those thirty a side games going on anymore kids are all on their computers etc. We played until it was too dark to see without benefit of a referee. It was hard to keep score when it got into the twenties but we were always competitive you always got a game and we never wanted to finish.
Hunslet Feast: it was the biggest feast in Leeds everybody in East Leeds and Hunslet used to go I remember the mighty steam ‘shamrock’ if you got hit by that it would have knocked you to nest week. There was a booth can’t remember if it were a boxing or wrestling booth you could pay your shilling and take on one of their employed staff if you won you got a five pound prize of course nobody ever did except there was a rumour that Regina, the toughest woman in East Leeds once won a bout there. This reminded me of my time in the army in the Pioneer Corps the PTIs (physical training Instructors) were superbly fit and as hard as iron, after our first session they dismissed us but said the hard cases stay back and they took them on one side and let them fight them and put them back in their place all but one he was a cockney lad and he held his own with them.
Later on I became a joiner and my claim to fame is if you ever wonder who put the spike on Morley Town Hall look no further it was me.
The say you should never go back but I’d go back any day.

David Harris

The 28th of April 1969 Leeds United Crowned Champions of the Football League for the first time: and I Was there!

It was a nice feeling last week when we went top off the league’s second division but can you imagine what it wpould be like to win the Football League’s Itop divion for the frst time? I can because I was there!

2019 marks fifty years since Leeds United were crowned Champions of the Football League for the first time. It happened on a wonderful night at Anfield, Home of Liverpool Football Club in 1969 and I was there.

Coming into final stages of the season we had only seen defeat twice: once at Manchester City two nil and a surprising five one defeat at Burnley which we avenged six one at home. Liverpool led the league all through the season but we had matches in hand – dare we say it – it looked as though we might make the coveted championship at last! One mighty barrier had to be breached first and that was Liverpool themselves at Anfield. This was to be the big one, the match that I shall remember when all others fade. I want to take you with me on that trip to Anfield on that wonderful April night.

We left work early that April night and slogged it across the Pennines, and it was a slog in the days before the M62 Motorway was constructed. There was going to be a capacity crowd in Anfield that night, a draw would do for us to lift the Champions crown but if we lost then Liverpool themselves would likely keep the trophy they already held.

            We called at a shop for the traditional meat pie on the road that leads past Stanley Park; when the lad behind the counter heard our accents he wished us good luck, ‘Can’t have that lot up there getting too cocky’, he said. Obviously he was a staunch Evertonian. We were already in the ground by five thirty, it was like a great empty cathedral, in fact there was so much space and so long to wait before the kick-off that the four of us who made the trip drifted apart and were not united until the end of the game. One of our number, was a girl called Irene, she was the most fervent supporter of us all, she had been in Hungary for the Ferenvaros match the year before. So keen was Irene that she had written into her contract of employment that she could have time off to watch Leeds United and to have her office painted blue white and gold. She later got into trouble at Elland Road for allowing her banner to cover the advertising boards

To return to Anfield: it was smaller than I had imagined it would be; the field seemed toy like and even the Kop directly across from us did not seem as immense as I had been led to believe. It was a spring evening which allowed the sun to shine directly into our eyes; it was so brilliant we could hardly see a thing. Perhaps we would be so blinded we would not be able to see the game. Anfield at that time was modern on three sides; the fourth side looked strangely quaint with its rounded timber fascia painted in red with the white letters: Liverpool FC.  What an aura of tradition abounded the place. Leeds players came out to inspect the pitch in their lounge suits. In the streaming sunlight on that small elevated pitch even Billy Bremner looked tall; how giant size would the Liverpool players look when they appeared?

            Leeds had a good following that night, with the chance of history being made and Leeds lifting their first major trophy what Leeds fan would want to miss out on a night like that? Almost all our end belonged to the Leeds support but somehow I had managed to become surrounded by Liverpool fans and what a great lot they turned out to be! They were a little shocked to hear our lot chanting the songs, they themselves, had made famous but with an added sprinkling of our own obscenities.

            The match progressed as I had expected – Leeds had come for a point and played seventy five percent defensively. It was about quarter time before I announced my presence in the midst of a little pocket of Liverpool regulars; they seemed a little surprised to find a Leeds fan amongst their ranks, especially as I was shouting for the removal of a certain Liverpool player who had fouled. ‘Gerr  ‘im off!’ but as I stated before, they were a great bunch; as they saw me sweating for the one point we needed for the championship they consoled me by comforting: ‘Only forty minutes to go lad’ – then, ‘Only thirty minutes now.’ It takes greatness to bestow such comfort, especially as our success would mean their failure but then Liverpool were well versed in success, and this was only our ‘maiden voyage’. As the time became shorter our fans shouted madly, ’Liverpool – Liverpool – runners up!’  It was so unnecessary, so pretentious a single Liverpool score even at that late stage and the dream would be over. I remember little of those final few minutes the tension was making it all a blur. But I do recall Eddie Gray dribbling the ball off our very goal-line, I would have been happy if he had put the ball into row ‘Z’. Then Alun Evens was through with only Sprake to beat, the goal seemed as wide as a field he couldn’t miss but miss he did. I daren’t look at my watch I knew if I did that would surely put the mockers on it. But for once the gods were with us – they didn’t pass that night. When the whistle did sound it was a little unexpected and a little unbelievable: our little team from Elland Road that I had supported from a lad, all those  ordinary years in the second division were champions of the Football League!

            The Leeds players congratulated each other and were congratulated by the Liverpool team, and then they ran to our end to be treated to hysterical applause. That done they started back to the tunnel; Mr Revie was on his feet and waved them away to the Liverpool Kop; the lads made their way, almost shyly to the famous Kop, hallway across they stopped and waved at the massed ranks of Liverpool fans. That which happened next was the highlight of the whole season and as it seems to have turned out, the highlight of my whole lifetime of watching Leeds United. The Kop arose in a mighty salute of red and white with the thunderous acclaim: ‘Leeds – Leeds – Leeds’. The Kop, which had seemed smaller than expected when entering the stadium, was now a colossal cathedral filling the whole panorama; the crescendo was a magnificent sight, enough to take the breath away. Any Leeds fan who remained dry eyed that night had to be a hard hearted beggar! We left Anfield treading air, the pubs and fish and chip shops all the way from Liverpool; to Leeds (remember there was no motorway) were filled with delirious Leeds fans.

Many of the travellers had their banners already made. I always thought it was tempting providence a bit but what a great sight to see them flying from cars, vans, buses ‘Champions’ when I arrived home it was late but Brenda was still awake and I couldn’t wait to speak those coveted words. ‘This was our night. We are the champions!’ I watched the lads for over sixty years but there was never another night like that night at Anfield

Date April 28^th 1969.

Venue Anfield

Att: 53,750.Score Liverpool nil – Leeds United nil.

Teams:

Leeds: Sprake, Reaney, Cooper, Bremner, Charlton, Hunter, O’Grady,      Madeley, Giles, E, Gray.

Liverpool: Lawrence, Lawler, Strong, Smith, Yeats, Hughes, Callighan, Graham, Evens, St John, Thompson.             We had the championship with sixty-five points and there was still one match to play. The record points total at that time (and remembering it was only two points for a win) stood at sixty six points, we needed a win to beat it. The last match was to be against Nottingham forest at home. Even though they occupied a lowly position in the league they were not going to make it easy for us that night, although their goal was under perpetual siege they fought for every ball. ‘We want the record’, chanted the crowd but it was beginning to look as though Forest would hold out. It was beginning to be that sort of a night when there had been so many near misses you begin to think that fate has it we would not score but 1969 was our year we squeezed one in near the end; Giles I believe was the scorer. We had the championship and we had the record

50 years ago this year-1972-Leeds United were up for t’cup

50 years ago this year -1972Leeds United were up for t’Cup
And I remember it as though it was yesterday
It was a balmy evening in May 1972 and here I was standing on the Lowfields Road stand at Elland Road. My eyes were seeing but hardly daring to believe; an open top bus was passing behind the wall of ‘The Scratching Shed’ and gleaming above the wall in the rays of the evenig sun was passing the most coveted piece of silver in the land; The FA Cup And it was coming in here!

We had a lovely team at Elland Road recently under Bielsa but in the late 1960s/early 70s under Don Revie we were really something else, look at the heading in the Daily Mirror in 1972 after we had beaten Man U 5-1 and Southampton 7 nil
I’m going to take you down to Wembley stadium with me on that wonderful day in 1972 when Leeds United at last lifted the FA Cub but before I do let me try and impress on you how good they were at the time. Before the Premier League was stated in1993 – we were the last winners of the old first division in 1992 – the FA Cup seemed to have more prominance than it does now.

In 1968 we won the League Cup and the top league for the first time on that wonderful night at Anfield in 1969 and we were now in the middle of three trips to Wembley in four years for the FA Cup.

Let me set the scene for you in 1971- 72, it was to be no ordinary season; right from the off it felt different, which was quite understandable because we started off by having to play our first four home games on neutral grounds. It seemed strange to be taking on Spurs at Hull, Wolves and Crystal Palace at Huddersfield and Newcastle at Sheffield. Newcastle were the only ones to get a hammering, we lost points to the others which we would probably have secured at Elland Road. The Yorkshire folk at these

outposts showed their lack of love at our success; the Huddersfield crowd actually cheered for Wolves.
It wasn’t a normal season in other ways too, instead of Leeds setting the pace with perhaps one other rival, this time four teams were in the running: Derby, Manchester City and Liverpool were making a late run of straight wins with their rebuilt team near the finish. Of course we were still in the mix but with all these four clubs taking points off each other it was apparent that the number of points required to win the league this time was going to be less than last season. Into the final straight the leadership would change week by week. Our ace card was our goal average, we knew if the league had to be decided on goal average it would be ours. This happy state of affairs was due to a purple patch: five goals against Manchester United and seven against Southampton. After those two matches the press acclaimed Leeds as ‘the team of the decade’ and we had a new name: ‘Super Leeds’ as the lads strung twelve – fifteen passes together we would shout, ‘Ole! Ole! As if at a Spanish bull fight. Opposing teams crumbled like old cake in face of out onslaughts and poured out expletives to the eager media. The play was just as magnificent when Spurs came to Elland Road, I never before saw a team so outplayed only to lose two–one and at one point they even led. But this was a cup tie and we were through to the semi final – it was to be Birmingham from the second division to be played at Hillsborough. Being the worrying kind I still worried when we were three up but that was the final score. The match launched David Harvey and he was to eventually eclipsed Gary Sprake as our first choice keeper.
The road to Wembley on that Saturday in May 1972 took us alternatively through sunshine and storm: at times the rain lashed so heavily that the wipers couldn’t cope. My own feelings were ill at ease – if only it were someone other than Arsenal! Apart from the respect due to them for winning the double last year the fact that we almost always managed to beat them caused me to think that if the law of averages kicked in it would be in their favour. My mates would say, ‘You’ve no faith in them.’ But I never disillusioned myself into believing with the heart that they would win something when the head thought otherwise; so many disappointments had caused me to be cautious. As I sat in the back of the car on the journey to London my head said Arsenal.

Our approach to the stadium that year took a different course to the usual route and we passed along streets of terraced houses bedecked in the red and white – everywhere were replicas of the Arsenal cannon. Once again we were reminded of the fabulous flair of the Arsenal fans. Up here we see stickers in the everyday normal saloon cars and vans down there Jaguars and even Rolls Royce’s were bedecked in red and white. Yet amid all those hundreds of red and white bedecked houses was one lonely house dressed up in blue white and gold. It was a light in the darkness – but how did he manage to keep his windows in? I wished I could have seen the occupant to shake his hand.
This year we were at the end where the players emerge and we were in good voice. The blue gold and white was as solid our end as the red and white at the other end. The alternate rain and sunshine had given way to solid sunshine now and a pageant was to begin for it was centenary year for the FA Cup. Every club that had won the FA Cup was represented by a marcher for every time they had won the cup. Chelsea and Liverpool had one marcher each both their singly successes at our expense, in our case marchers we had none and Arsenal took up the chant ‘Where are Leeds United?’ I wondered if we would ever be represented?
Our play was not up to the standard as in that Chelsea final but at around ten past four (by my watch) Alan Clarke scored the first goal. Even then I though, this is just to tantalise – we’ll not win. At half past four we were still a goal up and with thirteen minutes left to play I felt the butterflies in my stomach. This was the point I silently called on the gods of football, ‘If you let us last this one out I‘ll never ask for anything again.’ And this was, bearing in mind, that a draw at Wolves the following


Monday evening would win us the double. But for me this was the big one for the season I wanted that cup to want the double was greedy. We did last out but of course I didn’t keep my word.
As the final whistle sounded we threw each other in the air. I remember Mick Jones being led towards the royal box with his injured arm causing him agony; then Billy had the cup in his hands. The song we had sung so often in hope had come to fruition. The Arsenal fans were great in defeat, a great team with great supporters. Outside Wembley a poor old guy was lugging a great replica canon on his back. The canon looked heavy and the incline steep today, last year when they won the double I bet it was light as a feather. On the way home the footbridges across the M1 motorway were filled with remote Leeds supporters waving the vehicles home and one lad was already hanging upside down perilously finishing a graffiti slogan. LEEDS UNITED FA CUP WINNERS 1972.
Truly now the lads had done it all for us! We should have been able to savour that Wembley victory throughout the coming summer but it was not to be, out final league match must be completed on the Monday following the cup final, this gave the lads no opportunity to celebrate their victory and fatigue and nagging injuries had no time to heal. Jones of course was definitely out; Clarke had to play though far from fit. It was a travesty that so important a match had to be played without time to recover. But we had the cup win and that had been an unforgettable experience.