Reading all of your memories with interest:
I was born in 6 Paisley Terrace aka Kitchen Bank as it was originally known. It was my grandparents house. My great-grandfather lived in the house opposite - number 10. He lived to be 103 and we know the family had lived in that house since 1898, because his eldest son kept the original rent book. Great grandad took me to the bench seats in front of the library and we would sit there watching the world go by. He died in 1970 and my great uncle in 1971. Within a few weeks of their passing everyone was re-housed and their houses demolished. My great aunt, who’d cared for my great grandfather was moved to higher Blackley. My grandparents down to nearby the Waterloo Hotel aka today the Park View Residence. My cousin had worked in the library and as a child I gave her the run around trying to get at the Reverend Audrey train books. She came to my great grandfather’s for her lunch.
Paisley terrace was a cul-de-sac with open access to the sand hills where we played as children. The sand hills had probably been used to store materials during the construction process and then abandoned. The street area was cobbled with pavement sides. Four houses immediately from the ladies toilet had front gardens, but only two were cared for. My great grandfather’s house had a walled in garden filling the space where a house was probably meant to be. The houses were all two up two down terraced cottages, with a coal cellar, back yard and outside toilet. There was no bath, but the grandparents had a tin bath which they put before the kitchen fire. The kitchen-dinning room was the centre of everything and the ‘best’ front room was used only for visitors. There was a back alley way running behind all the houses.
Outsiders often incorrectly assume life was dirty, squalid and miserable. Actually it was hard work especially for the women who kept the house clean and our clothes in a constant battle with smog and chimney fumes. My great aunt still used a mangel, a boiling tub and a scrubbing board to keep everything clean. I was fully washed at least twice a day and hands were always washed at meal times. But it was also home and after the people were rehoused many lost something that the new houses could never replace. For years my grandma walked to the ‘village’ as she called navigating a massive wasteland of demolished houses.
Places that might be of interest: turning right - a nearby sweet shop (close to the ladies toilets) was owned by Rose an older Jewish lady - it was like a magic room of sweets; across the Crescent Road was Titanic - a Jewish deli - the father had survived and was still in the shop as I recall; Crescent Road had Heaps, a butcher, a newsagent and a chippy. You had to climb steps to get in the chippy. Across the road was Timpsons a shoe shop, the bread shop, the bike shop and the bus stop for the 35 to Bury. Further up Cheetham Hill towards Seymour Road was a garage on the corner but before that a fish shop owned by my uncle. Before that was my favourite toy shop Highways and before that Woolworths. Across the road to the fish shop was King Edward Buildings where a cousin later had a hairdressers in the 1980s.
Across the road from the Terrace was the Robin Hood pub and next to that the Co-Op. Turn left led to a few shops, Granada TV rentals and Levy the furniture store where my grandma got he suit from. On the corner of Humphrey Street was a police station. Further down was the baths but I only ever visited them once as my family thought it was for the even poorer. Across from the baths was the coal man - he supplied sacks of coal on a horse drawn wagon. The coal was dropped down the hole in front of houses and we kids fed the horse with an apple or carrots.
I have not been back to that area since 1992 after my grandma passed away. From what I can seen almost nothing of the 1960s, apart from the library has survived the bulldozer. Apologies for any text errors, I tried preview and spell check but neither work.