Page 4 - John's Story Vol 4

STORY 4 - 19/3/16 – MY DEAR DAD

No photos just memories…..
My dear father. What a life he must have had. I never saw him upset, he
never had a bad word to say about any one. And what a determined man
he must have been.

There is not much I can remember about my father when we lived in
Gibson Way in Porthleven. I know he worked at Falmouth dockyard .And
his days were very long. Dad was not the only man from Porthleven who
worked in the docks at Falmouth, there were many men. I recall once or
twice walking with a crowd of other people. Mothers and their children
walking through Gibson Way down to the bus stop, to wave of their
husbands when they boarded the coach which would take them off to the
docks.

I remember this coach being a dark green in colour and only picking up
men who worked at the docks. It’s strange what we remember. The people
in Gibson Way were just like one large family. Although I was of a very
young age I know my mother had many friends. Little things that one
remembers….

If my father was home at the weekends he would take me up to watch
football. We and many others would walk out to the end of Gibson Way,
turn left as though walking towards Penrose and the football ground was
in a field on the left-hand side. I believe the team was well supported and
they were a very good team. Their nicknamed has not changed, The
Fisherman. Are they as good today as they were all those years ago?

Another thing I recall was going down to the allotment with my father
which was on the right-hand side of the road walking down Torleven Road
towards the harbour. The allotments were on the opposite side of the
road from the cemetery. I remember me standing on my father's plot and
in my child’s eyes the allotments went on and on.

In those days if your family needed vegetables you had to grow
them. Again I can not remember much of these days, only getting
stung by the stinging nettles and crying. Dad telling me to get some
dock leaves to rub over the stings. Did this work? I think by the time
I found the dock leaves and finished crying the stinging had stopped.
But I still remember the white spots on my arms and legs. Also each
time I went to the