Home Town

Home Town
(from the provocation, “Say where you come from, without saying where you come from”)

I come from
Jekyll and Hyde in the form of geography
From dusty papermills, Chinese chippies, cobbled back streets and the paper shop
From constant renewal and the new civic hub, but ten years not being long enough to replace a footbridge
Where fame is claimed through a film director, a snooker player and a scene in a movie starring Rita Tushingham.

I come from
Papermills and engineering plants closed down and knocked down
From cinemas knocked down or converted into supermarkets, and later knocked down to become different supermarkets
From pubs turned into flats, or knocked down, or knocked down and turned into flats
From churches and the swimming pool knocked down and turned into flats
From old folks’ homes knocked down and turned into housing estates
From the Civic Centre knocked down and turned into a housing estate
From the constant war of attrition between green land and new housing estates.

I come from
Breathtakingly steep hills, a five-mile vista across the valley and lush ancient woodland
From a river, canal, fields and a railway line worthy of Enid Blyton
From defunct railway lines and coal mines repurposed as nature reserves
From swans, moorhens and frogs, from deer, moles and foxes
From hawthorn hedges ablaze with goldfinch and fields cloudy with lambs

I come from
Vaping emporia and fried chicken shops every second doorway
From stolen decorative metalwork and the third-time-lucky bus station
From ankle-twistingly uneven pavements and collapsing sewers

I come from
The borough’s neglected child, but the oldest child in the borough
From visible history reaching back to 1910, the 1790s, the 13th century, the Iron Age, Bronze Age, Mesolithic.
From the Norman tower, the tithebarn, the once-Catholic parish church, the Ballad of Fair Ellen
From history that was never taught at school – except for the Domesday Book part

I come from
Not quite the last stop on the Metrolink
That had a secondary school, then two secondary schools, then no secondary schools, and now two-fifths of a secondary school
With no banks or building societies, but two supermarkets and a thriving cemetery
Where the longest-lived business is the funeral director

Head for Bury, but before you get there, turn left and go downhill
It was a town
Now it’s just a place where people live

 

 

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