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Archive for the ‘Black Country’ Category

Our Vicarage was beginning to empty out earlier this year. Our lovely Persian lodgers found a flat and moved out just before their baby was born. The Joker got himself an apprenticeship at a law firm in Sheffield after his two wonderful years volunteering at The Oakes, the Queen is working hard at a proper job in Lancaster and the Engineer is mostly at uni now. It was beginning to feel a bit quiet in our Victorian vicarage – the Vicarage Hound only barks when he wants a chew.

So the Vicar and I had a little pray about the next stage of Vicarage life, asking the Lord to guide our steps. And of course, that same week a lady at church told us about her friend who was having trouble finding a new home with her two small daughters. And now we have the Gentle Gs living in the attic whilst they continue to look for somewhere more permanent. And then we had a call from a minister in London who had a church member starting a job very close to us here, and so this Saturday we have a young man coming to stay whilst he settles into a new life in West Brom.

Meanwhile, I’ve been rereading some emails from the great granddaughter of the fifth vicar of our church, Rev Arthur Benjamin Irvine. Arthur was in post here from 1874 to 1902. He lived in the Vicarage with his wife Louisa and their seven children. I think this may be the last time that nine people lived here at once, although the Vicar and I are always up for a challenge. Who knows who will join us next?

The Vicarage Children, Amy, William, Maziere, Arthur, Louisa, Constance, John. (Guessing the order from left to right from their ages, and if Louisa was about ten in this photo, taken in about 1885).

Thanks to one of Arthur and Louisa’s great granddaughters, who came to visit our church in 2019, I have some more pictures and stories of life here in the Vicarage in the second half of the reign of Queen Victoria. So there are more stories of the Irvine family to come. I’m not sure I’ll have the full lowdown on how all nine of them bumped along together in the Vicarage, but I like to imagine that it wasn’t all as neat and serious as they look in the photos and was perhaps rather more like our messy Vicarage life now. Mind you, it was almost impossible to get our kids to look at a camera at the same time when they were younger.

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It’s been so long since I blogged, but I’ve had a project bugging me for ages. It’s a real privilege to live in an old house and to know the names (and profession!) of all its principal inhabitants since it was built. So I want to write about some of the people who lived here in the Vicarage, whose stories I’ve learnt about in the years we’ve lived here (fifteen in the middle of February!). And I want to write a little about the history of our church too. When we arrived in the parish, the then churchwarden was undertaking that enormous task and produced a book from his research, so I have an excellent resource to start from, but the internet gives opportunities to discover more since that project was completed.

So this year I’m going to write about those things, about Rev Arthur Irvine, who lived in the Vicarage with his wife and eight children for most of the second half of Queen Victoria’s reign. One of his daughters made some sketches of the Vicarage family and I have permission from their descendents to share them here. I’m going to share some exerts from our church magazines from the 1920s and 30s, and Rev Benjamin Willmore’s evangelistic talks given here in Lent in 1850, and all sorts of other scraps. I might also write about what’s happening here, now that this Vicarage is emptying of dependent children and taking on a new sort of character.

And to start off, today I have an extract that I found in the electoral roll that was kept from the 1940s to the 1950s. It’s an unusual entry, and gives a reason for removal from the electoral roll that I’m glad that we’re never going to have to log. There’s a modern block at 14 Florence Road now, alongside the Victorian terraced houses that make up the rest of the street.

The Gureton family, Fred, Elizabeth and Lilian, bombed out of their home on 19th November 1940.

The bombing is mentioned on the West Bromwich History Society site:

On the 19th November the Germans launched a nine-hour attack on the Midlands with wave after wave of bombers. In West Bromwich bombs hit, Richard Street South, Lombard Street, Constance Avenue, Florence Road, Paradise Street, the District Hospital in Edward Street, the Corporation Gas Showrooms next to the Central Library, Oak Road and the Corporation Bus Garage and the Palace Cinema in the High Street.
Sometime around 7pm German planes first dropped thermite incendiary bombs that would set the town alight to guide in the next wave of bombers carrying high explosive bombs. German targets may well have been the railway sidings, surrounding factories and the large gas-holder at Swan Village.

https://www.westbromwichhistory.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/12/WestBromwichBombing1940.pdf

In that same bombing, Edith Clare was injured in a house just along our road and died the next day, and Ernest Lamb, aged just 18, also from our parish, also died from injuries received that night. What an awful night for those families and for the whole parish. Rev Fred Sutton was the vicar then, and was still in post when some of our current church members joined – the connection to the past is close when you’re part of a community with memories.

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A couple of weeks ago Dreamer and I and Freddie the Dog took a walk around the local park. It’s bigger than you might think. It even has a couple of lakes. It was looking fabulous, as you can see. So if you were holding off applying for our Ministry Trainee position because you thought you might miss nature, think again. We’re still looking for someone!

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Happy is our new lodger. He’s also the Vicar’s new apprentice (aka the ministry trainee). Yesterday he went to a training event about our area. It was laid on by diocesan missioners with input from speakers from the local council and other taxpayer funded bodies.

We live in Sandwell, one of the most deprived boroughs in the country. Happy came back with lots of bumf and today I thought I’d just share a few choice statistics on our area:

  • 8% of people in our borough are on Jobseekers Allowance – twice the national average.
  • House prices round here are below the national average by 35%.
  • There is not a single bookshop in the borough (though this does not include the W H Smith in our high street – I guess they mean independent booksellers or Waterstones and the like).
  • There is no cinema in the borough.
  • Most of the famous people from the area appear to be comedians (although the folk at the session kept on talking about Bishop Asbury, who neither Happy nor we had heard of before, but Wikipedia has enlightened me).

This place needs Jesus

Where we are

Happy came back with a lovely poster with photos of all the local councillors, including the three who represent the ward we live in. Sadly, when I contacted them by email more than a fortnight ago to ask about an issue that has been bugging me for a while, I received no acknowledgement and no reply. And not a single councillor showed up to a controversial meeting about a new local housing development last night. So I don’t think I’ll be putting the poster up any time soon.

But if you would like to start a business with an eager workforce, or commute to Birmingham City Centre in 15 minutes, you like to laugh a lot, you’re happy to use a library or The Book Depository for reading matter, you don’t mind watching your films on dvd a little after release, you want to buy a cheap house and get involved a local church which wants to make a difference, this is the place to be.

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I have a terrible confession to make (shhhhh): I prayed that God would not send me and the Vicar to work in a church in Birmingham.

When he was still training, the Vicar had suggested that Birmingham would be a good place to go and work – lots of multi-cultural areas, close to many athletics meets (the Vicar was helping out with some ministry for Christians in Sport at the time) and well located between our families in London and Scotland.

But I knew better. We didn’t want our kids growing up with those nasal Birmingham accents. So the Lord was kind to us and sent us to the Black Country instead.

We love it here – it’s multicultural, close to athletics meets, well located between our families and people are friendly and wonderful. But today the Engineer said:

See the whistle I got from the boo-kit*.

The accents are here to stay. And I’m glad to be here. Who’d have thought it?

*The boo-kit is full of small plastic toys that the nursery children can choose as a prize for getting lots of ‘good tidying up’ and ‘good listening’ stickers at school.

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