So, the story of my existance. My life began about the time of the oil crisis of 1973. Strikes were crippling the economy and people were busy stockpiling goods to prepare for the worst.
Mum and me - November 1973
The Wilkie family had something else on its mind however. That was to get mum (and me) to the hospital and deliver me safely.
The hospital chosen was an old town called Bury St Edmunds - 30 miles away from Cambridge. This was a lager hospital, that was believed to have far better facilities as in some cases owing to my mother's rare blood group.
Everything was alright, although eager to come out I was about four weeks early. I weighed about 5.3 lb, and if you look carefully my feet were bent inwards. They never completely streightened, but they never casued a problem to walking or sports.
So Christmas time 1973, Glam Rock was in town and the Wilkies had a new family member.
"I must have been one of the last babies born at the old Bury St Edmunds hospital. Either that or mum went to the wrong one. A girl I worked with was born in February 1974 - in the new hospital!"
Wizzard - christmas songs - i wish it could be christmas every day
My first dwelling
The house behind the caravan is the house we lived in. It was a rented property arranged for teachers living in the local area. The house is located in a place called Clare in Sufflolk- about 23 miles from Cambridge along the Stour valley on the border of the counties of Essex, Suffolk and close to Cambridgeshire. My room was at the front on the right hand side.
My sister Yvette - Around 1973
Apart from mum and dad, wating for me on this planet was also my sister Yvette. Yvette was about eight when I was born soon to turn 9 in February.
Yvette soon got used to me around and was the first person who taught me to experiment building things. I soon learnt how to consruct things with my lego, building blocks and stickle bricks. There was no stopping me! I wonder if even this blog was influenced in some way by my first tentative trials and errors!
The other thing I remember Yvette doing for me was creating a poster for me with a collage of cars on it. Cars long since disapeared like the Alfa Sud, the Citroen GS among many others.
Yvette went on to study for a Degree in fine art in Edinburgh and to this day occupies herself drawing and creating things. I wonder how many people reading this were inspired by Take Hart (Tony Hart) and Blue Peter.
Lovely boy! Me - early 1976
Bay City Rollers - Bye Bye Baby
During this time I was looked after by a woman down the road in a place called Cavandish. My Grandmother came from Trinidad to stay with us and watch over me for 6 Months. Other notable occurances at the house was when mum terminated the budgie - for the crime of pecking the wallpaper, sentence to death by brush.
This picture was taken by a mobile photogropher on the dinning room table. Mikey still exists by the way, although I wont be recreating the scene anytime soon!
Dad used to take me for long walks to give me exercise when I learnt how to walk. Below are some of the places we used to have picnics and spend time together in Clare.
In March 1975 we were blessed with another family member. An ITT colour TV set. for the princely sum of £325 - paid with a deposit and in installments over 6 Months. From that moment we enjoyed all the family favourites - this time in colour; Top of the pops, Blue Peter, the Sweeny and many many others before we moved to Linton in 1978. The TV lived on till about 1990!
A lovely place to have a paddle about !
Alvin Stardust - My Co Ca Choo
A walk around the village
Admire the ancient buildings
Take a walk in Kentwell Hall Long Melford
The family car 1972 - 1980
Right is a car almost identical to dad 's Cortina Mk III (albeit a GT and not a GXL). Dad bought it direct from Fords as a ford employee. During this time due to an accident, resulting in one side being repainted. Not being oven baked, thanks to the summer of 1976, the sun took away the shine! Poor dad, poor car.
The car was taken off the road in about 1980, and resurrected from the garage in 1986 - when the company car went!
Clare, Cavendish and Long Melford are all pricturesque ittle villages. Here is a selection of pictures from Clare.
Approach from Haverhill direction - Classic comment (dad) "I hate Haverhill."
Hello Sturat. Your Blog about your early life sounds great, and the photographs are really cool. Your childhood environmnet is envious: a loving mother; a father who took you on long walks; a sister who made car posters for your bedroom walls; color TV's,: fast cars and the beautiful countryside environment. No wonder why you turned-out handsome and bright!
Your Blog is refreshing because it doesn't have any complaints. Usually people complain that their father was a thief, their mother was a bona-fide wino, their sister was a klepotomaniac (either this, or just completely absent from their lives), their homes back-to-back gardenless terraced housing, and so on.
In fact your photographs and early life story are so good, that it does make one wonder whether you are not just making it up.
I do have some worries I would like to share with you: (1) You mentioned the fact of a "mobile photographer" I am a little confused about this. Do you mean that a cripple in a wheelchair took the photograph? If so, I know the man. He also takes photographs of us but usually the photographs show only our knee joints and they aren't usually heirloomed. (2)The picture of the verdant meadow and the wooden fence seemes a little too Photoshopped, too. I mean was it really as lovely as that? I can't see any people in the picture. The parks near us have the "Deriks" (people who sell drugs and guns), but your pictures don't have them. Accordingly I am a little suspicious. (3)Is that lake related to the local wastewater recycling projects? For I do not see any waterfowl or fishes in it. In my part of the world in lakes like that there is usually at least one rusty car or an old bed. In fact on closer inspection of the Photograph of the lake I think can see where you have Photoshopped out the carcass of a floating dog. But I maybe wrong. It may be the carcass of a Derik. Anyway I will not probe any deeper, and who am I to question whether nyour entire life story is true or false (false!).
I will write again, but thanks for sharing your "life story".
Posted by: Sally | 10/13/2010 at 01:25 AM