SPECIAL FEATURE
Wythall Police Station –
my home.
My family moved to Wythall Police
Station just after my first birthday
when my father, Roy Harris, was
transferred to Wythall from Droitwich.
It was to be my family home for the
next 13 years, along with my two
brothers and my sister and I have
fond memories
of my childhood,
growing up
surrounded by
the Law!
Back in the
1960’s it was not
unusual for a
Police station to
be a family home
and both sides
of the Police
Station at Wythall
were occupied
by families of the local officers and
there were another two families just
two houses up from, what was then,
Blaynee’s Building Yard.
Our house had 3 bedrooms, a
bathroom, a living room, a front room
(which was only used for special
occasions) and a kitchen. The kitchen
had a pantry where my mum kept the
food and I remember there was a big
black marble slab shelf that was used
to keep things cold because we didn’t
have a fridge or freezer. My mum had
an electric boiler washing machine
with a mangle attached and it would
take her most of one day to do the
washing. There was no central heating.
Each room of the house had a fireplace
26
but we only ever lit a fire in the living
room. When it was very cold or snowy
our bedroom windows would freeze up
and you could see your breath when
you got out of bed in the morning.
The Police office sat between the two
Police houses and it always appeared
to be busy. The
public came
to the office
through the big
front door and
then knocked on
a glass window
to speak to the
officers. The
main office was
heated by a coal
fire and over
the fireplace
was a large
map of the area. On a shelf above
the cupboards there would be a row
of Police helmets which belonged to
the officers of the station. They would
be worn when going out on duty and
they had to be kept clean at all times.
There were two big desks in the
office and it was here that my dad
and the other officers sat and typed
out their reports. There were also
a set of ‘Incident’ Books where my
dad recorded by hand some of the
things he dealt with whilst on duty.
There was a big switchboard in the
office and the phone was always
answered with “Wythall 2310”. If a
call had to be transferred to another
office or house you had to pull
out a lead and plug it into another
socket before winding a handle
to ring through to the person you
needed. Very hi tech for the 1960’s!
The phone was always answered
no matter what time of day and it
wasn’t unusual for my dad to be
called out to investigate something
in the middle of the night. When
my father went out on duty, and if
the no other officers were around,
he would always transfer the phone
into our house so that all calls to
the station would be answered and
messages taken or other officers
called upon to deal with an incident.
Towards the back of the Police Station
was an office for the Sergeant and
next to that was the Police Cell. It was
a very bare and cold room with a big
stone bed at one end with a mattress
on top. There was a small window
high up in the wall and the cell was
locked by a big iron door with a pull
down grill for the officers to check on
any prisoners. I remember my dad
threatening to lock us up in the cell if
we didn’t behave, but he never had to
carry the threat out. Having my dad
working in the office next to where
we lived was quite good because he
was always around for helping with
homework or dealing with cuts and
grazes.
At the back of the house there was an
outside toilet and a coal shed. There
was also a big garden to play in and
to grow vegetables in. We had a huge
apple tree that my brother used to
climb and there was also an old well,
which was blocked off after my older
brother decided to investigate it. My
memories of my garden are of long
warm summers, skipping, riding bikes,
making tents, picnics, eating rhubarb
sticks with a bowl of sugar and playing
football with my brothers.
In the garden of the Police House next
door there was an air raid siren left
over from the war. There was also a
dog pound for the local strays that
were brought in and later collected by
the RSPCA.
My brothers and sister and I went to
the Silver Street Primary school, later
renamed Silver Mead. We would walk
to school every day whatever the
weather and Mrs Docker, the ‘lollipop’
lady would cross us over the main road
at Drake’s Cross. When she couldn’t
do this my dad would stand in for her
and I would often get a ride home on
his bike when he had finished, after a
visit to the corner shop to buy sweets.
It was part of my dad ’s job to ensure
road safety and he would come to
Silver Street School to run the Cycling
Proficiency Scheme which my brothers
and sister passed with flying colours!
My dad would often help out with
school football matches and he went
on several trips to Wembley to watch
the schoolboy football finals with the
school. When my brother, sister and
I moved onto Woodrush Secondary
Modern my dad and other officers at
the station got involved in community
activities at the school like the summer
fetes. He would come along and help
judge competitions.