When I was a very little bloke, one of my greatest joys was to run out and open this gate so that my dad, who rode his bike to work every day, could ride effortlessly through and into the yard without having to step off his bike. I had already unlocked the side gate so he would sail on through to the shed in the back yard where he stored his bike. I’d be diligently closing and locking gates behind him as he went.
It seemed like an important job to me at the time.
Dad arrived home at about the same time every night. Working men did that back then. He was a union man and that meant that you gave the boss a good days work and when it was time to go home, you went home!
A few years after my dad took this shot [this is an enlargement of a larger, wider shot] he pulled this fence down and built a shorter, more ‘modern’ fence. Personally, I like this one, and as fashions go, a lot of the houses in the area are putting back the original fences………. everything changes, everything goes in cycles………. and everything stays the same.
If you look very closely, you can see that one of the horizontal wires on the gate has been bent down. That is probably because I liked to swing on the gate when my dad wasn’t looking.
The house is still there but my family no longer owns it. It is now about eighty years old.
Every couple of years I drive up that street just to remember what it felt like to live my younger life. Every year it changes and becomes less and less like the street I remember. This is not a bad thing. Everything has its time.
Number twenty Erin street will always live in my heart.