I was talking to my old pal Lee Culley this morning and mentioned that he should come look at this blog because I’d mentioned him in a previous post. We got to talking about our kids and how they have no respect and I reminded him that we were no different. We were from the Howard Estate in Bury St.Edmunds and the Howard boys knew how to get into trouble.
I’d just like to say that I was always up to no good when I was a kid. There was always something going on that could get me into trouble if caught. And in those days a policeman could give you a whack round the ear and just the thought of him telling your parents was enough to make you be good. At least for the rest of that day. Knock Down Ginger, or Ding Dong Ditch or whatever you called it was always a popular sport during the school summer holidays. Six weeks of nothing to do except make the lives of old people miserable. For those who don’t know what I’m talking about it goes like this. One of your friends would dare you to knock on a door and run away. Simple. And really pointless now looking back at it. You would normally know something about the door you were going to hit up. An elderly person, a night worker, the local weirdo, the local psycho that would eat you if he caught you. Quite often nothing would happen. You’d knock and make your escape before they got to their door, if they were even home in the first place. Once in a while you’d get chased by some angry man shouting at you to “knock it off,”
while you hid behind the dustbins (trash cans) trying not to laugh so loud. I remember one day where Steve Batt and myself were out and about, trying not to burn down something of importance, so we decide to play Knock Down Ginger. After several successful knocks and a couple of chases we spotted the ideal door. It belonged to a night worker who had a big dog and a temper that was legendary (the mans, not the dogs). We knocked, we ran, we got chased, and chased, we decided to split up, he couldn’t chase both of us. Luckily neither of us got caught. We were however on our own. So being the adventurous types we were, we both knocked on doors and ran. And were both being chased. Unlucky for us we both ran towards where the other was going. Passing each other we knew the storm was coming behind from both directions! The best thing about being young is that you are a lot smaller, fitting though gaps in fences is a lot easier. We made our escape and went and hid out indoors for a while. I think Steve’s Mum asked us what we’d been up to.
The answer was obvious, “nothing!”