Tom Sutton

My childhood memories are all centred on 17, Skegoneill Drive, Belfast, where I lived with my parents and sisters, Violet and Phyllis.  I have no recollection of Gainsborough Drive, where I was born, but the good fortune I have enjoyed all my life must have started when I was very young, as after we moved from this address, it suffered badly from the Belfast blitz in 1941.

Despite getting married on 3^rd August, 1949 and leaving the family home, I am quite confident I could name all those who lived in Skegoneill Drive and even the numbers of their house, well, 24 of them anyway.  We were all good neighbours together.

The question of whether you were a Protestant, a Catholic or a Jew mattered not, as if anyone needed help, it was always forthcoming from both old and young.  Only one family in the street had a car - Mr. Green who had a prominent job in Belfast City Hall.  One of the pranks we played on him was to push a small potato in at the end of the exhaust pipe of his car.  When he came out and started the engine, it spluttered and spluttered and eventually the potato shot out like a bullet and off he went, no doubt worried about the mechanics of his car.  Of course, to the rest of us, it was all great fun!  Mr. Green lived in No. 13, maybe he was unlucky for the rest of us had to use shank’s pony and of course this meant bumping into our other neighbours and stopping for a little chat.