Seven o'clock every morning (including Saturday), and a large herd of double-decker buses sat purring in the central bus station. Their destination blinds provided a roll call of once-proud names: Daimler, Morris, Jaguar, Wickman, Herberts, Standard, Alvis .. the list goes on. Employees made their way into the town centre and boarded a free bus which delivered them directly into the premises of their employer. A return service was provided in the evening. The principal competition was bicycles. Darwin principles meant that factory gates were left completely clear at five o'clock, as the evening hooter heralded an avalanche of massed cyclists which stopped for no-one. Very little company car parking was available; but there were rows and rows of bicycle racks. There were some private motorists; the Superintendent with his bowler hat drove an ancient Siddeley car, whilst senior staff seemed to favour the Standard 10 model. On reflection, the class distinctions were unbelievable. My employer operated five canteen separate arrangements for lunch. A bare table area for shop-floor workers, a paper-covered table area for weekly staff, a cloth-covered table area (with drinking water) for monthly staff, a separated dining area (with waitress service) for management, and a darkly mysterious entertainment suite for superior creatures. There was also a hierarchy of tableware. This ranged from thick white crockery as smashed in Greek restaurants, up to thin china with a tasteful green and gold line around the rim. Democracy also took a hammering during tea breaks. In the trenches we queued for a metal mug of tea from Veronica’s trolley. Shop-floor supervision had a crock mug of tea delivered to their desks. Monthly staff received a china cup and saucer with two arrowroot biscuits, delivered on a metal tray. Senior Management left to attend important liaison meetings. I find it difficult to believe myself. It is also surprising that everyone accepted this environment. In a strange way, it provided public recognition of advancement through the ranks. Smokey Checked by Norton 2004 before transmission with Mozilla Thunderbird

Smokey's latest couldn't have been better timed, in light of the recent news from Jaguar. Thanks for giving the rest of us a prod, and an insight into a life very different from working amongst carnations and tomatoes. Jill ----- Original Message ----- From: "Joe Connell" <jfc.public@virgin.net> To: <ENG-BANBURY-AREA-L@rootsweb.com> Sent: Monday, September 27, 2004 10:56 PM Subject: [BAN] Re: Memories of the 50s > Seven o'clock every morning (including Saturday), and a large herd of > double-decker buses sat purring in the central bus station. Their > destination blinds provided a roll call of once-proud names: Daimler, > Morris, Jaguar, Wickman, Herberts, Standard, Alvis .. the list goes on. > Employees made their way into the town centre and boarded a free bus which > delivered them directly into the premises of their employer. A return > service was provided in the evening. > > The principal competition was bicycles. Darwin principles meant that > factory gates were left completely clear at five o'clock, as the evening > hooter heralded an avalanche of massed cyclists which stopped for no-one. > Very little company car parking was available; but there were rows and > rows of bicycle racks. There were some private motorists; the > Superintendent with his bowler hat drove an ancient Siddeley car, whilst > senior staff seemed to favour the Standard 10 model. > > On reflection, the class distinctions were unbelievable. My employer > operated five canteen separate arrangements for lunch. A bare table area > for shop-floor workers, a paper-covered table area for weekly staff, a > cloth-covered table area (with drinking water) for monthly staff, a > separated dining area (with waitress service) for management, and a darkly > mysterious entertainment suite for superior creatures. There was also a > hierarchy of tableware. This ranged from thick white crockery as smashed > in Greek restaurants, up to thin china with a tasteful green and gold line > around the rim. > > Democracy also took a hammering during tea breaks. In the trenches we > queued for a metal mug of tea from Veronica’s trolley. Shop-floor > supervision had a crock mug of tea delivered to their desks. Monthly > staff received a china cup and saucer with two arrowroot biscuits, > delivered on a metal tray. Senior Management left to attend important > liaison meetings. I find it difficult to believe myself. > > It is also surprising that everyone accepted this environment. In a > strange way, it provided public recognition of advancement through the > ranks. > > Smokey > > Checked by Norton 2004 before transmission > with Mozilla Thunderbird > > > ============================== > Gain access to over two billion names including the new Immigration > Collection with an Ancestry.com free trial. Click to learn more. > http://www.ancestry.com/rd/redir.asp?targetid=4930&sourceid=1237 >