Liverpool The City That Knocked The Cavern Club Down, Then Called Itself Beatles Town.

I was born just off St Domingo Road in Everton, though it was nearer to the hallowed turf of Anfield. 

The proximity to Anfield is what provided me with my pocket money.

 I would mind cars on match day.

 It was great running up and down the street “Can I mind your car Sir”.

I would put my Liverpool scarf on early in the morning and we would have a little bit of territory in our cobbled street with which to work.

People were kind.

 It was a friendly gesture rewarded for the effort and enthusiasm. 

The drivers in would get out in their red and white scarves. They didn't have to give you a few coppers but I think it heightened match day for them.

There would be no cars in our street of a normal day. There wasn't anybody living there whose income could afford to run one.

 It showed you that if you tried a bit and were pleasant, you could earn a little bit. Which in turn made your life a bit better.

 Mainly in the ability to buy football cards that you could collect into an album. I can still remember the team goalkeeper was Tommy Lawrence, right up to Peter Thompson on the left wing. The beginning of collecting, maybe.

It was a friendly place, we knew everyone in the street. I still today can recall most of our neighbours names.

 The surrounding streets were pockmarked with missing houses that had been bombed during the war looking like missing teeth within a pretty girls smile. Other houses were shored up with timber.

We played war games amongst the debris and in the abandoned houses with broken window pains.

Around a similar time I was once showed how to throw a brick at a church window by an older lad.

 It was covered in a grill and made a great noise. I hadn't realised why my so called mentor was running away, until a white collared clergyman came out from a side door running towards me shaking his first. I learnt how to run that day. 

And how to keep away from this tearaway who fell about in stitches laughing.

I didn't think it funny at all especially when a knock on the door came and there he was reporting me to my mother. You grow up quick in the school of hard knocks.

The church was two streets away, the other side of Sir Thomas White Gardens which was quickly becoming a failed experiment into social housing. Its no longer there. Either is the church that became our playground. I used to run errands having made friends with the people inside. 

I never picked up a stone in anger again and soon realized why the beautiful glass windows were covered up.

At that time in Liverpool there was a different mentality, Protestants and Catholics were enemies, or so we were taught. 

We played football matches when we found someone with a ball. The teams were usually picked by religion. I thought whats all this about.

I soon grew up and realized, just as I had been shown to throw a stone, that I was not to listen to my elders, not to be guided by the wrong people.

To form my own judgments by study.

Decades later whilst driving past, I found the same church in disrepair and about to be demolished so I removed some of the fittings before the bulldozers destroyed them and put them in my stores to re use. Then shortly after, while reading Freddy O'Conners “It All Came Tumbling Down” I found a picture of my street, and a picture of a church that was designed by Pugin, well the firm of E.W Pugin. I was a property developer by this time. I then realized that there were several Pugin buildings in the vicinity and I also realized I had felt the gravity of the history in the humble little street that was condemned by the city council as a slum and we were sent to a modern house in the suburbs.

I always regretted the move. The wash house, that steamy place where the washer women gathered to chit chat away was in fact a Pugin building.

If you are born poor you dont know anything else.

My first BBC appearance was for a documentary about slum housing and I was nominated for interview by the headmaster of my school St Georges. 

I recall in my past memory that I was talking about growing up and there and some shots walking home from school with my friend.

I must have only been six years of age. We did not have a TV and had to go to a neighbours house to watch it. I have tried to find it in the BBC archives but I fear its lost.

 It showed a happy little child growing up and attending a school with its Grade I listed St Georges church, walking home through Everton Library, also a listed building that had escaped the blitz.

https://waynecolquhoun.blogspot.com/search?q=st+georges I wrote about St Georges some time ago.

Not long after being cleared out to the new Metro-land. A concrete jungle. I missed the sturdy security of my poor working class background and the way the people stood together and helped each other. 

People who had nothing would share their last bit of food with you, not knowing if there would be any money with which to buy more for themselves.

 Boot boys and football hooliganism appeared. Things rather dramatically in the coming years. When I started going the match it had become a dangerous place.

Now I understand that that church was in fact The Chancel Chapel erected to be the beginning of the building of a new Cathedral of such gigantic proportions that it would rival St Peters in Rome. The Church never got the necessary finances required and after war decimated Liverpool a free site was given to the Catholic Church near the city centre. This would see The new Metropolitan Cathedral Of Christ The King, or Paddy's Wigwam built. 

I was an apprentice watching this new space rocket erupt on the plateau opposite the Anglican Cathedral by Giles Gilbert Scott. I did not like it.

Later I got angry with what was happening to my city and how it's historical buildings were being targeted for redevelopment in the new era that was bringing a new prosperity...with little respect for my past.

I had become a vociferous heritage campaigner as Liverpool became a World Heritage City it began to destroy the Pier Head. 

The famous Three Graces had escaped The Luftwaffe and then the city planners set about destroying the majesty of Liverpool's waterfront.

Now I was negotiating with Unesco to save its soul as we watched the corrupt city council planners destroying my city that I had been so proud of, yes proud, even with all its tatty edges and incongruities,

It was my town. And they were knocking it down.

I would be as vocal as I could with some great success I gained a respect for my opinions and believed I could shape the argument of how to keep what was the essence of the city yet bring it into the modern times.

This is the city that knocked The Cavern down and then called itself Beatles Town.

Liverpool became European Capital of Culture and some argued that the only culture they could find was in the yougurt, in the fridge, in the Kwik Save, in Old Swan.

They built without respect, on and on, higher and higher, the World Heritage Site was becoming a architectural mess.

https://waynecolquhoun.blogspot.com/2019/06/liverpool-threatened-with-world.html I tried to inform the public. What happens if the econony shifts? I said.

I would be asked my opinion many times.

 One request was to the merit of The Metropolitan Cathedral by the Editor of the Liverpool Daily Post where I was careful not to throw stones at it, but give it a conseintious view built up by years of experience, questioning.

The lack of knowledge in the city for its heritage assets was apparent, especially that of the Editor of both the Daily Post Mark Thomas and the Liverpool Echo which had sunk to an all time low under Alaistair Machray.

It was in the Lutyens Crypt within the Metropolitan Cathedral that I made my Antiques Roadshow debut where I was invited to become a specialist on the longest running factual programme in the history of the BBC. https://waynecolquhoun.blogspot.com/2014/09/antiques-roadshow-what-amazing.html This was the programme I had loved since discovering it one Sunday night a long time ago. Those stories those objects, It lit up my life like a beacon.

Hopefuly I was invited to become part of the show because I understand the meaning of how important the past is to our future.

How we need history, the stories and meanings of the past.

How we use objects as a vessel to discover who we are.

And more importantly how to objectively look at everything without believing what you are told. To question and not be ordered how to think.

I believe that lad who taught me how to throw a brick made me think, and I formed the opinion that we should never trust in those who appear to be in a superior position.

And now I own a 19^th century Grade II listed slate built Chapel where I will open my new gallery soon. I spent the summer restoring it and phase one is nearly completed and I realize that those who live in ecclesiastical buildings should not throw stones, yes I have learnt a lot.....................oops, I have just realized I started off writing about the designer architect who brought Gothic architecture back to the fore and in doing so changed forever the shape of our cities. Augustus Northmore Welby Pugin.

I will now have make that my next post I got a bit carried away there.

http://waynecolquhoun.blogspot.com/2020/07/augustus-welby-northmore-pugin-his.html