I READ with great interest the letter from Helen Darby in The Black Country Bugle (August 7 edition) about childhood memories of living by Doulton's.
It brought back so many memories of growing up in the same area, in my case, Cox's Lane.
I well remember the White Lion pub, run by Mr and Mrs Rawlins. People often used to sit on the wall outside on a summer's evening drinking the odd pint or two.
However, I really wanted to write about the grocer's shop that Helen referred to, otherwise known as Daisy's.
The didn't seem to be anything that you couldn't get there. From frozen Jubblies to anything that was deemed unmentionable that lived underneath the counter! All the vegetables were stored in the entry.
Your big shop was done at Daisy's on a Saturday. No supermarkets then.
If you got tummy ache your mother would send you to Daisy's for some Indian Brandy. If Daisy knew you well, you could even knock on her door on a Sunday and she would come to the side entry door and get you what you wanted, muttering under her breath at the same time.
Daisy lived with her brother, Harry who grew the best English tomatoes for miles around, and again if you were lucky Daisy would ask if you wanted any. Harry's greenhouses were the envy of many.
There are many families locally who owe such a lot to this lady.
Many who fell on hard times always knew that here you could get food etc and Daisy would write your name in her book and expect you to pay her when you were able. Unfortunately not everyone did.
I am pretty sure that Daisy went to her grave with some people's names still in her book.
Her greatest problem was the advent of Value Added Tax.
In many ways I think this was the beginning of the end for her. Daisy was one of the Black Country's unsung heroes in my book. Growing up in the 1950's wouldn't have been half as much fun without this magical emporium on your doorstep.
A very belated thank you Daisy, from all my family.
Halesowen Road, Old Hill.