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I worked
for Tom as a schoolboy 40 and more years ago from about 1965 until just before I left school in 1969. For most of this time
I helped out with the bread delivery round on a Saturday. When I started there were 3 rounds, each served twice a week, so
the van was out 6 days of the week. At that time Tom employed a driver. A warm hearted Geordie called Bill Patterson. Bill
was a lovely man but he had an accent you could cut with a knife! His voice got higher and faster, and his accent broader,
the more excited or exacerbated he became. There were many occasions when he asked me to do something, and I had to ask him
to repeat himself so many times, that he ended doing it himself tossing a “you bleddy (sic) foreigners” over his
shoulder as he went!
Tom,
with his brother-in-law Arthur Pony, used to get up very early in the morning to get the bread oven going and to prepare the
dough, leave it to prove, knock it back, leave it to prove and rise again, and to weigh the individual pieces of dough by
hand to form the loaves ready for the oven. Some, like the short tins and sandwich loaves went in tins and others, like the
cottage loaves and cobs went straight onto the oven trays. All this to provide fresh bread for the shop and delivery rounds
every day except Sunday. They also made the many varieties of cakes, pastries and buns that were sold on the premises or on
the rounds. Arthur used to do this after the bread was baked and while the van was out. His day used to finish around lunchtime
and the van usually returned about the same time.
By the time I left school
and stopped working for Tom, people had already begun to reduce the amount of bread they had delivered, not least, because
it was becoming more common for both husband and wife to go out to work, so that there was nobody at home to accept deliveries.
This meant that, inevitably, Tom had to reduce the number, and frequency, of rounds and, unfortunately, he had to let Bill
go. As a consequence, Tom was now, not only getting up very early to do the baking, but he was the only person available to
drive the van for the delivery rounds. So he was always glad to have another pair of hands, and indeed legs! During school
holidays I often helped out with other rounds These tended to be more rural than my normal Saturday round when we would both
get out of the van, deliver to several customers and then meet back at the van before moving on a hundred yards or so. On
the rural rounds we would frequently only be delivering to one customer at each stop. I’d love a pound for every time
Tom said to me, “go on Alan, you do this one, your legs are younger than mine”. He was right of course and, after
all, he was paying me!!
Sometimes, particularly at busy periods like Christmas, Easter and
before other bank holidays, I helped out in the bake house. In those days, there was no such thing as Sunday shopping, let
alone 24 hour shopping or shops opening on a bank holiday - So, at these times, people did need to get more bread in. This
not only put extra pressure on the bake house, but meant we often had to go out twice on any one round, just to deliver all
of the extra bread. Tom was always very generous to me and my wage packet on these occasions, was increased disproportionately
to the extra time I put in. While I enjoyed working in the bake house at first, after a while, I found the lovely smell
of freshly baking bread became sickly and cloying. It was years before I could enjoy this most evocative of smells again!I
also worked in the shop from time to time in the holidays. Here Margaret, Toms sister, ruled the roost. I am not entirely
sure, but I think Margaret probably “did the books” for the business. Certainly she worked out, and prepared,
the wages for all of the staff. Always in a proper brown wages envelope, never cash in hand!I confess, I preferred to be out
on the rounds, although it was sometimes good to get out of the weather. It’s odd, I don’t recall being bothered
by the rain, although I must have been soaked on many occasions. Extreme cold was the problem for me. I was never cold in
myself, indeed Tom often chastised me for “not rapping up warm”, but my hands would go blue! Not helped by the
fact that I was also handling cash, which, itself was very cold on these occasions. It seems strange now, but in those days,
you were positively NOT ALLOWED to wear gloves when handling bread even, as in my case, if you were handling money as well!
Even in the days when Tom or Bill did each round twice a week, Tom tried to persuade customers to pay once
a week. This made a lot of sense, not least because taking payments considerably extended the time it took to complete a round
and it was easier, and quicker, when Tom had help. There were some customers who insisted on paying on each visit. One family
went further. This was the Bacon family. They were an extended family, living in caravans on Domsey Lane. They were very good
customers and took baskets of “long sandwich loaves”, (a loaf you no longer see), as well as cakes, biscuits and
other goods, twice a week. They wanted to pay every time, they didn’t want to owe anything. If they happened to be out
when we called, they would drive to the shop, a round trip of more than half an hour, and would pay for what we had left.
Over the years, Tom tried dozens of times to say that there was no need; that he would collect the money next time he delivered,
but you could guarantee, if we left bread for them, by the time we had completed the round and got back to the shop, Margaret
would say, “The Bacons have been in and paid their bill”.As well as delivering the bakery products, once a year
there was another delivery job. Seed potatoes! We delivered hundredweights of them! It always seemed incongruous to me that
one day we were loading the van with beautiful fresh bread, and the next, sacks full of muddy potatoes. But we both enjoyed
this change and I guess, as a friend of mine would say, “it was a nice little earner”. Tom and I were always amused
that the majority of the old boys - They were always “old boys” - would insist on telling us their “secret”
for chitting these seed potatoes. They all told us the same “secret” and they all told us the same “secret”
every year! They ALL saved up their old egg boxes to stand the potatoes up in! It is still going on today. I know, I’m
now one of the “old boys” doing it! I mentioned Tom was always very generous to me - This manifested itself in
ways other than money. For instance, as soon as I was old enough, he taught me to drive. I don’t think Tom particularly
liked driving and he was always happy to put the “L” plates on and to let me drive. Of course the hours of practice
were a god send to me, not to mention, I loved it!
He taught me one other thing
- To drink! When we got back from the rounds, I would unload the van and “cash up” and then go to the back of
the shop to find 2 bottles of light ale waiting there; 1 for Tom and 1 for me. The first couple of times this happened, I
wasn’t at all sure I liked the taste, but with perseverance and studious practice, I overcame my reluctance. Things
have gone down hill from there! One final anecdote, a reminder of
what we lose when people like Tom have gone and local bakers, butchers etc are no more. Neither Tom, nor the bread oven, got
a rest on Christmas day. He used to cook about a dozen turkeys for people in the village who did not have ovens big enough
for the monster turkeys they had bought These huge birds would take hours and hours to cook, so, on a day when he might have
been expected to enjoy a lie in, he got up early once again and got the oven going so that other people could enjoy their
Christmas dinners.I thoroughly enjoyed my time working for Tom Amos and remember him with great affection.
Alan
Diver,Tackley,Oxon
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