Prior to the "turf the street"
incident of 1996 nobody had heard of the Methleys, including taxi drivers and
the postal service. We were a quiet little estate of people who liked to mind
our own business (and gossip about everybody elses). The neighbourhood comprised
a load of old terraced houses nobody would have glanced at twice, a sweet factory
which closed down in the sixties, a launderette which fell down at about the
same time, and a load of snotty jammy kids who didn't need expensive turf to
play on, they were more than happy to kick each other half to death on the tarmac.
The only thing that could get the children off the streets was the rag and bone
man's horse which was rumoured to be a man-eater.
The old terraced houses have been
replaced now be delightful residences in the heart of 'Chapel Allerton Village'
- which is odd because they're the same houses. The sweet factory is a garage,
and the side where the rubble from the launderette used to lay provides the
foundation for an entire block of tiny little yellow houses - alright if you
like that sort of thing but not nearly so much fun to explore. The house prices
have rocketed and we have traffic calming to look forward to, but for some
of us this area will never be the amazing place that it was in my childhood.