The Avenue, Whitley, Coventry.

The Avenue

Since I was only 4 or 5 when we moved from here my memories are few but some are quite vivid.

Quite understandable because we were living in Coventry during the early part of World War II. I remember my mother carrying my two year old brother to the front gate and my walking by her side to see if the three spires were still standing after the bombing. Those three spires were a huge influence in maintaing the spirit of the city, as I later found out. Their significance still burns in my memory though. I also remember spending nights in the cubby-hole under the stairs and nights in the communal air-raid shelter. Even there, there were occasional lighter-hearted moments and I remember a neighbour in the fire service or a similar organisation appearing one night absolutely soaked, a colleague had accidentally turned a hose on him. I rember the eeriness of candle light glistening on his wet clothes.

Perhaps strangely, I also remember the red metal pedal car I had; I have a photograph of me in it but that photo is in black and white and it does not show the interior which I can still picture.