Bill Dark's Thoughts

In 1952 I was 4 years old. We lived in social housing on a dirt road off Albert Royd Street in Rochdale. The biggest fire in the town's history broke out in the Clover Cotton Mill. Above the mill was an enormous dam that supplied the great quantity of water needed to feed the giant steam engines that drove the machinery. Being 4 I just thought it was a good place to sit to watch the fire. My father led mum and me to enjoy the tragedy, along with the entire neighborhood. Dad

My first lesson in the power of words Fortunately, I don’t remember potty training or other embarrassing events of early childhood. This despite the best efforts of my father to embarrass me at family gatherings, with tales of my babyhood excrescences. I do remember my mother restricting my freedom at the age of 4. Though pretty, Mum was a powerful, Junoesque woman. She could walk on her hands, do cartwheels and other gymnastics. My grandfather told me, ‘When she was six, s