Latchkey Kid

[Di.Poppitt]

I think I was probably the original latchkey kid. During the war mom and me left dad in Witton and went to live with an Aunt in Hamstead. Mom got a job, in Witton, to support the two of us. I was well looked after as we were among all of mom's family.

When we went back to my father soon after the end of the war mom didn't want to give up her job. The factory was Hudson's on the corner of Witton Road and The Broadway, we could see the end of it from our house. When I left school at four o'clock I would go straight to the factory, stand under the third window from the end and wait until mom's head appeared and she threw the door key down to me. She left work at six, so I was on my own for just over an hour. I would light the fire which was laid ready, make myself a drink and read my books until she came home.

I was only eight, and today social Services would be knocking on the door, but in those days nobody turned a hair.

 

[Alberta]

I wasn't a latchkey kid Diana,probably a worse case for social services.I went to school in the Staffordshire Moorlands,my parents left for work in the Potteries and I was left in the charge of my granny.I started off down a country lane every morning ,alone, and it would be a quarter of a mile before I would meet the next child and then we would meet with kids all down the lane until we got to the school bus.On the return journey i would say goodbye to my fellow pupils one by one and then walk alone for the last quarter of a mile.This went on from when I was 5, in 1947, until I came to Birmingham age 8.Nobody saw any wrong in this,it was partof living in the country.
The world was obviously a much safer place,no harm ever befell me or my friends and I cannot ever remember being frightened.The dark nights
held no fear for me ,I was growing up in a world without street lamps or electricity.

 

[jennyann]

Latchkeys

This thread reminds me of the importance of being trusted with the key to the house. We simply weren't trusted mostly. You could get keys made easily enough but there was definitely an unwritten rule when I was growing up about door keys. The parents had a key but that was it unless other adults were living in the house. As I remember it you had to celebrate your 2lst birthday before you were given the key to the front door of your house. If you were married you got it a little ahead of time!
This caused incredible trouble at our house especially when my oldest brother and I were in our teens. A spare key to the front door was made
and hung on a hook in the meter box which was at the front door entrance.
Peter, broke the rules and used to lose the key for days at a time and if I had been out late I would reach inside and it wasn't there, no way would I wake up my parents if this happened because I knew I would get the third degree...one about being late and two about the key being missing., and never hear the end of it for days after. I hated that so much.

It was hard to wake up Peter without waking up my parents. I remember my heart just dropping when that key was not where it should have been.
Now why didn't we go and get keys made? I haven't a clue, except that
perhaps it was superstitious to own a key before you were 2l. Anyone else go through this type of a situation?

 

[Pomgolian]

Keys

Being the youngest I was never allowed a key to the house. I would have to wait outside summer and winter for my sister to get home, first from school, and later from work with one to let me in :roll: .
The really annoying thing about this was that my Mom was often home in bed fast asleep after taking her proscribed drugs .
One time before even my Brother, or sister were allowed a key and Mom was actually out working . We all arrived home from school on a very wet day. Someone had the bright idea of getting in the house via the 'Coal Cellar' cool as they would sat today, or even choice 8) My brother was holding up the 'Cellar grating’ and my sister was climbing down and whether because it was wet or what the heavy grating slipped out of my brothers hands and trapped my sisters fingers :cry: . Not sure how we and the kids from next door got her back up, but from that day to this she has always had very flat fingertips and nails.
Gosh did we get a hiding or what :!: The outcome was that the two eldest did get given keys a short time later.

 

[Di.Poppitt]

Post script

I was never given a key to our front door either. When I was in my teens, one was hung in the coal shed. I had to squeeze in through the back door being creful not to let our dog out, he was the dog Houdini of Witton.

When I was late I hated going in after one horrible night when my mother was waiting for me behind the stairs door. As I went up the stairs she battered me on the head, which woke dad who yelled at both of us to keep the noise down!!