Born in 1955

Back in 1955, the world felt like it was finally shaking off the grey of the war, even if you could still see the odd bomb site being reclaimed by willowherb. I remember it being a cracking year; we finally saw the end of the last bits of rationing, and suddenly you could nip to the corner shop for a proper bar of Cadbury’s without a coupon in sight. Everyone was humming "Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White" while the telly—if you were lucky enough to have one with a tiny nine-inch screen—was all about the very first episode of *Dixon of Dock Green*.

We’d huddle round to hear "Evenin’ all," then maybe catch a bit of *The Woodentops* with the little ones. If you had a few bob, you’d head to the cinema to see Bill Haley in *Rock Around the Clock*; honestly, the cinema managers were terrified the Teddy Boys would start ripping up the seats! It was a scorching summer, too—I recall kids playing out in the street with tin cans and skipping ropes until the sun went down, while the grown-ups sat on the front step with a bottle of Mackeson or a nice cup of tea, chatting about that new-fangled ITV channel starting up.

It felt like everything was changing, but in the best possible way.