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<TITLE>Memories of my father. Volume 1</TITLE>

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Memories about my father David William Azzaro

Volume 1. Early life up to the start of WW1.

Most of these notes were provided by my brother Chris. The bits enclosed in square brackets were added by me, Allan. Obviously the bits about Grandad's taxi cab overlap a similar file in the notes for Andrew Azzaro.

His Childhood:
Born in Nelson Place - as you know. [ Nelson Place gets a mention in Graham Greene's 'Brighton Rock', but the only comment is to say that it's where all the Catholics live. Dad told me that there was no internal privy in the house - you had to go to the end of the road for the toilets. Going up the road in the other direction you met the smell of the 'Herringees'. These were fishermen's workshops which were used for smoking herring.
It is understandable that this was the Italian area of Brighton since the oldest Catholic church in the town was the Church of St John the Baptist in Bristol Road. All the family marriages in Brighton took place here from at least 1888 to 1920.
The church had a primary school attached and this was dad's first school. It worked on the basis that boys only moved up from one class to the next when they attained the right level - not just on the basis of age. So some of the boys, who might be recent immigrants who sploke little English, might be mchj older than the rest. ]

Often seriously ill - eg Diphtheria. Hospitalised, sometimes in isolation. Remembers visitors had to stay behind glass screen. Grandad came in and kissed him when no one was looking. Probably prone to diseases considering the place they lived in.
Nelson Place had interesting features: Bedroom floor gave way when Grandad got into bed one night. Rene and Madge said front room was haunted - both thought they were being strangled when sleeping in that room on separate occasions.

Taught to read and write by Vic since he had missed so much school through illness.
Did not think much of school - skipped off to read in the library.
But - must have been good at school later - stayed on at Brighton Intermediate School until 15. Rene had to leave at 14 - parents' decision as she was a girl. Dad always thought this was unfair and considered Rene at least his equal in intelligence.
Found many things easy at school. He could learn poems easily. Played Mark Anthony as he was the boy who could learn all the lines.

The four-wheeler

This was a home-made trolly that dad, Vic and others played with on the race-hill. On one descent Vic fell off and cut his arm. They went to the local chemist for first aid before being taken to hospital. The chemist (Dad used his name but I cannot remember it) had a theory that the whole race-hill was riddled with "lock-jaw" (presumably tetanus). On the way to hospital, Vic continually put his face through many contortions to ensure that his jaw did not lock solid.

During the depression, Grandad's taxi caught fire and was off the road for some time since the insurance had not been paid up. The family were pretty destitute without any income and received food vouchers from the catholic church. The family chose to buy porridge as it was filling. The children did not actually go to Sunday school regularly and would hide under the beds when the nuns came round to see if they were at home.
Eventually, the family went to visit an Aunt who was better off and the taxi was repaired or replaced. I have the impression that Grandad's brother and sisters were fairly well off. Grandad had already spent his share of the inheritance before the will was read - having come to an arrangement with the solicitor.

During the depression Vic would catch shell fish, cook them in Nan's boiler and sell them on the sea front. Dad said the washing smelt of fish for weeks.

Uncle George bought Dad his first bike. Cycling was important. He belonged to a club and took part in timed races and they had regular rides to places like Amberley. (An old man in a pub in Amberley had never been further than Arundel and had never seen the sea). I think there were a number of friends from the Brighton Intermediate school in the cycling club. The name of "Dick" Whittington comes to mind, and also the girl called Betty. (Whom Dad described as "a reasonably attractive blonde") I think that a cousin (Son of George and Alice Baker? was another in the group - can't remember the name)
During this time Dad played Rugby - probably for the Old Boys club and Cricket.
Also went fishing. Sometimes at Newhaven - off the breakwater. There was a café on the route where you asked for a small tea and small sandwich - no one ever found out what a large tea or sandwich would be like! The café was frequented by the painters from work.

Fireworks at Lewes

Dad had several stories of the pre-war firework celebrations ay Lewes. There were a number of bonfire societies, all claiming precedence. (One was the oldest, another had the Mayor, and so on) The police allocated each society a route so that they would not meet. The parades usually arranged to get "lost" and usually had a fight when they met another group. A brave person would read the proclamation while the crowd threw "Rockets" at him. He would flick them off and carry on reading regardless of possible threat to his life. Dad always called fireworks "rockets".
A highlight of the night was the rolling of a blazing tar barrel down school hill. The shops were boarded up well beforehand. If successful the barrel would end up harmlessly in the river. Otherwise the fire brigade had to fight their way through the crowd to extinguish the fire.
Sometimes the night ended with the Police chief reading the riot act on the town. Those arrested, usually for being drunk and disorderly, were released just after the last train had left for Brighton.

[ Grandad;s taxi driving]

I've always taken it as a 'fact' that Grandad Gary drove a motor taxi before WW I. But the only documentary evidence comes from the 1901 and 1911 censuses which simply describe him as a Cab Man. His marriage certificate in 1912 also describes him as a Taxi Cab Driver. Are you sure on this point ?

At Dad's funeral I remember Uncle Tony telling me that Grandad was a founder member of the Streamline Taxi company in 1938. According to Tony he was a popular member and on the day of Grandad's funeral you couldn't get a taxi anywhere in Brighton since all the drivers were at his funeral. And Tony's concluding remark was that 'If I didn't believe it I could read it in the Brighton Argus'. I duly went to the National Newspaper Archive to check and couldn't find any trace of it. I can hear Dad's voice come back from the dead to laugh at me for having spent a day chasing a will-of-the-wisp on the strength of something Uncle Tony had told ne. ]

Grandad would never accept a fare to Lewes, believing that he might be arrested for murdering a man. The incident took place on a race night and Grandad may have been driving a horse cab rather than a motor cab. Gangs would stop racegoers and make them pay money to proceed. Grandad was having none of this leaned over from his seat and hit the man in the face, causing him to fall to the ground. [ In this story as I heard it the ringleader of the gangs was called 'The Cock of Lewes Races' - I've tried searching Google for that name, but with no success.]
Dad met a man who witnessed the incident. The man had a broken jaw, not dead. Dad met this witness after the war (I presume) while canvassing for a friend standing as an electoral candidate.
[ Grandad was more successful as a taxi driver during the Second World War. Of course if you only had the petrol allowed by the ration book, then there was a limit to how much you could earn. The secret was to get your hands on some black market petrol. Grandad's angle was to realise that whenever a garage sold some petrol there was a bit left over in the hose which no one missed and no one counted. So he went round all the garages doing deals to get his hands on this extra petrol. ]

[ Dad's first job was as office boy with a firm of motor mechanics - he fealt that the future was with motor cars. Unfortunately he soom got sacked. The story was that the company had two or more customers with the same surname - call them Mr.A and Mr.B. One day Mr.A called in to say that he had broken down in Such-and-such Road and needed help. The breakdown truck was duly sent out but thought they were looking for Mr.B. They cruised up and down the road looking for him without success. On the way they passed Mr.A by the side of the road several times, waving to him but leaving him standing. Dad got the blame. ]
Next he went to work for a builder as an office boy - Dad referred to him as "Old Braddy" - may have been "Bradshaw". Apparently he spoke with a Sussex accent and pronounced places such as Horsham as Horse-Ham. Old Braddy was something to do with a car club and Dad was expected to help with timekeeping during speed trials on Marine Parade.
Dad learned shorthand and to type as part of his work. Hence his role in the regimental office when he joined the army. I think he joined the territorials sometime late in 1938 - working on the theory that war was coming and getting in first might be safer than being conscripted later. Dad tried to join the Navy but his eyesight was not good enough. I always had the impression that several of Dad's group of friends joined up too and were all part of the Royal Sussex that went to France in 1939.

His eyesight deteriorated when he was 15/16. But before that he became schoolboy boxing champion in Brighton (Weight unknown). Grandad wanted him to become professional but poor eyesight ended that. Dad's route to the final involved fighting several bouts in various school gyms after school, often on his own. One such occasion, Dad had won his first fight but the boy he was fighting next was more formidable. A Jewish boy had turned up to support Dad, but he did not stay for the second bout. Apparently, Dad's opponent also disappeared and eventually, after waiting around for some time, the master who was supposed to referee declared Dad the winner and he went through to the final at the Dome. Next morning Dad discovered that the Jewish boy had told the formidable looking opponent that Dad had a reputation for injuring people, and suggested that they did not stick around to get hurt! [ I believe that he also won a trophy for gymnastics, and that's where the story about the broken trophy comes in. ]

August 1939. Dad had saved up for a particular camera and on a Saturday afternoon went to Western Road to make the purchase. Saw the newspaper boards "Hitler invades Poland". Decided to save his money. (The camera was eventually purchased in 1957 ? I remember Dad telling this story when we were on holiday in Wales and you and I were given the old camera.)