D
Dorothy Dodson
Guest
My father worked at Veritys from the 1930s - actually he got the job, via one of his nephews, my dad had been out of work during the depression of the 30s for 4 yrs. I think he started there just before i was born in 1937.
He was an 'emery bobber' and they used make industrial fans. He said that they manufactured the fans for the "Queen Elizabeth" liner (or was it the Queen Mary?).
As i got older i recall that he came home looking as though he had been down the mines. He didn't serve in the forces as he was graded unfit due to bronchial trouble. But i remember that he used to do fire watching nearly every night. Yet i also remember that he would be fire watching, in our road, when the raids were on
He was never on a very high wage, and even when it was possible to earn higher money, he was always frightened to take the plunge, in case there was ever another depression. He always used to say that the bosses would say " last in first out. "
I remember one night (this would have been after the war) that someone came from the factory to tell my mum that my dad had been taken to the eye hospital, and he was being kept in, because a lump of emery (or whatever)had gone into his eye.
I remember us getting on the tram into town, and my mum going to the reception (or whoever was in charge) to ask about my dad, and was told that she couldn't see him because it wasn't visiting time. She didn't argue or question the logic of it.
So we went back the next day. It seems that he had piece of emery lodged at the back of his sight, and they were keeping him very still in case it moved, in which he would have been blinded. However, he did recover and was sent to a convalescent home at Blackwell that Birmingham Eye hospital had in those days.
The snow was thick on the ground and everywhere was icy. But we used to make the journey, to Blackwell each week. There was a lot of convalescing wounded soldiers there, including Austrialians if my memory serves me correctly. But my dad wanted to come home, but in those days it was like trying to get out prison if the doc said you couldnt then you couldn't.
However my mum had a bad turn one of the days when we visited, and my Pa used this as an excuse to get his release. He just turned up at about 11pm that night, and it seems that he had signed himself out, but had also had to find his own way to public transport. Very scary as he couldn't see very well, plus being country lanes there was no lamps, and hardly any moonlight to guide him. But it's amazing what we can do when push comes to shove isn't it?
He was an 'emery bobber' and they used make industrial fans. He said that they manufactured the fans for the "Queen Elizabeth" liner (or was it the Queen Mary?).
As i got older i recall that he came home looking as though he had been down the mines. He didn't serve in the forces as he was graded unfit due to bronchial trouble. But i remember that he used to do fire watching nearly every night. Yet i also remember that he would be fire watching, in our road, when the raids were on
He was never on a very high wage, and even when it was possible to earn higher money, he was always frightened to take the plunge, in case there was ever another depression. He always used to say that the bosses would say " last in first out. "
I remember one night (this would have been after the war) that someone came from the factory to tell my mum that my dad had been taken to the eye hospital, and he was being kept in, because a lump of emery (or whatever)had gone into his eye.
I remember us getting on the tram into town, and my mum going to the reception (or whoever was in charge) to ask about my dad, and was told that she couldn't see him because it wasn't visiting time. She didn't argue or question the logic of it.
So we went back the next day. It seems that he had piece of emery lodged at the back of his sight, and they were keeping him very still in case it moved, in which he would have been blinded. However, he did recover and was sent to a convalescent home at Blackwell that Birmingham Eye hospital had in those days.
The snow was thick on the ground and everywhere was icy. But we used to make the journey, to Blackwell each week. There was a lot of convalescing wounded soldiers there, including Austrialians if my memory serves me correctly. But my dad wanted to come home, but in those days it was like trying to get out prison if the doc said you couldnt then you couldn't.
However my mum had a bad turn one of the days when we visited, and my Pa used this as an excuse to get his release. He just turned up at about 11pm that night, and it seems that he had signed himself out, but had also had to find his own way to public transport. Very scary as he couldn't see very well, plus being country lanes there was no lamps, and hardly any moonlight to guide him. But it's amazing what we can do when push comes to shove isn't it?