On the pop bus to Wembley…

We were on our way to the Challenge Cup final of 1961. My brother John and I had managed to get a couple of tickets to the match and a lift with the Morgan’s Pop Factory down the road from where we lived in Ashton in Makerfield. Now the constituency of our Prime Minister. Never thought I’d ever be able to write that. John was a massive fan of Wigan Rugby, as we called it ( none of these silly extra names required for our team in those days and no adverts on their bums either ), which we thought … Continue reading On the pop bus to Wembley…

Ashton in Makerfield : beware of the dogs.

In my Facebook outline it asks where you are from. I put Wigan, but I could have put in three places in Wigan: Lower Ince, Ashton in Makerfield and Standish. My father was a policeman, and on each promotion, of which he had a lot, he was moved to a different location. My parents did not own a house until after his retirement; all of our houses were police properties. They got progressively smarter as he rose up the greasy pole. Ashton in Makerfield was in the middle, a detached house on a relatively new estate, so he’d been promoted … Continue reading Ashton in Makerfield : beware of the dogs.