Co-operative Stores, Baslow Road, built in 1931



I was passing the Co-op on Baslow Road not long ago and my thoughts went back to that shop many years ago when I was in my youth. In those days the building stood well back from the road but eventual road widening changed that and in time the emergence of the supermarkets changed the Co-op and to my mind a lot of what was unique about the Co-op went with those changes. No longer that personal touch given by the counter staff, home ordering, and delivery, etc., The Co-op Society had inevitably to change and so we see today their own style supermarket doing it’s best to live alongside the giants of the trade. How different it all was in the 30's and 40‘s. 

When a young boy I was occasionally asked to fetch the odd item from the Co-op, to which request my dear mother would add that immortal tag line "Don't forget my Divi number!" So I would go on the dash to the shop, and here I must point out I had no busy roads to cross from our home on Aldam Road to the S & E on Baslow Road. Being young at the time I sometimes gave the wrong number mixing up the five figures in the wrong order. However, my mother soon saw to it that I knew it by heart. Like many offspring in those days, if you had an errand to the Co-op you had not to forget your mother's Co-op number and along with so many of my generation, that number has lived with me down the years. The Divi was all important, each Co-op member had their own registered number and every time you paid for your goods the amount spent was recorded along with that number on the little receipt given to you, a percentage of that amount being credited to your Dividend Account, a useful source of savings and a more personal transaction than to-day's stamps. 

The Branch was divided into three separate shops, the largest being the Grocery Department, the Butchers Shop was in the middle with the Greengrocery' at the top end. Being so young, the whole place had a magical attraction to me; I was fascinated by the overhead wire tracks attached to which were containers transporting your money to the Cashier’s office. If you were shopping in the Greengrocery your money made quite a trip, out of the shop it would go through a hole in the wall into the Butchers shop and out the other side into the Grocery Department and its destination at a lofty position in the far corner - the all important Cashier. In the Grocery Department you would see a constant to-and-fro of money containers criss-crossing below the ceiling to the various counter points within the building. I was transfixed with the sight I longed to pull the cord that set the container on its way - but no, that was done by the counter staff, and how I envied them.

Moving on a few years, Mr Barker the Manager of the Butchers Dept, a friend of my parents was on the lookout for an errand boy to deliver on Saturdays to customers in the district. He asked my mother if I would be interested - I certainly was! I would be earning some pocket money; I would have a shop bike to ride; and although only part-time, I would be working at the Co-op. For a time there were two of us delivering from the shop and we would vie with each other for the best bike. One was a real "bone shaker" with dodgy brakes, the other was brand new - a beauty! 

In the winter months I would go to the shop before daylight particularly if I was playing in a football match that afternoon. Having so much to deliver I had to make an early start, carefully loading in order the parcels of meat, etc., into the large wicker basket on the front of the bike. Then off I would go, fully laden, the weight of it making control difficult at times, but I managed. Later my mate left the job, going to work for another butcher I think, so I had full use of the new bike most of the time apart from when the Assistant Manager wanted to use it. 

The territory was quite widespread, testimony I suppose to the quality and service the Co-op gave. I delivered anywhere from "the top of Totley" as we called it, on the one side, to the area around Dore and Totley Station on the other. Further afield, after calls on Bradway Bank, I had two deliveries in Bradway Village then down Twentywell Lane to the cottages at the side of the Castle Inn. Then round the back to a little house in the disused brickyard and out the other side along a track to a lone house where lived a delightful lady, Mrs Gibb, a friend of my mother's - being both members of the Totley Co-op Women’s Guild. 

One occasion I had to deliver to a farm off Abbey Lane at Parkhead where lived the Mountfords, friends of Mr Barker. Mrs Mountford, I can see her now, a typical farmer's wife always kind and jolly would offer me refreshment after my long trek and very welcome it was too! Later when Mr Barker left I no longer had to make the journey. 

Mention of the Co-op Guild brings back happy memories; many of my friends having mothers who were Guild Members. And in pre-war days we youngsters attended occasional social events with them. One we always looked forward to was the Co-op Gala held every summer in Graves Park. We had a great time helping out (or hindering) with the stalls and taking part in the organised games, etc., There was always plenty of "pop" to drink and things to eat, how we enjoyed those warm summer days and did the sun really shine so much. We made the journey there and back by bus and tram, a long and very happy day for all. 

         Totley Co-op and Green Oak shops, 1950s

Occasionally in summer we were taken by train to Unstone Station, then a long walk up the hill to Apperknowle to a house owned by a kindly lady on the edge of the village, it stood on its own down a narrow lane and possessed a lovely garden, all winding paths and hidden nooks -pure magic. We youngsters thought we had found fairy land and on top of that we were served afternoon tea. Later, back down the hill and home on the train - how we all enjoyed our day out. 

At Christmas a party was given to Co-op Guild members and their families, it was held in the Co-op Hall on Napier Street, Sheffield, not far from the much loved store, the S & E Arcade, now just a nostalgic memory. We sat down to a "Party Tea", after which entertainment (a panto of sorts) was performed followed by party games and to end the night some rousing carol singing, and then back on the bus to Totley - happy, happy, days. 

Now, returning to the butcher’s errand boy - they say the bane of the postman’s life is the dog, well we had cause to be on our guard too! Because if dogs were around they quickly picked up the scent of raw meat and we had to watch out. Customers' dogs were rarely a problem, knowing the weekend joint was about to be delivered they were kept indoors. It was the neighbour’s canines or the odd stray you had to be wary of. I remember one particular call, a house on Sunnyvale Road, walking the path from the road to the side door I was often accompanied by two of the most ferocious "husky" type dogs you ever saw - I say accompanied, fortunately they were on the other side of a stout fence and I was glad of that, they thumped and clattered that fence howling away - it was a relief to hand over the delivery to the customer. I am sure that if ever they had got out I would have thrown the meat their way and run like heck to the bike. I cannot say that I have ever been afraid of dogs, but those two were something else! 

One call however I paid little attention to the customer’s small dog, sometimes snapping away as I walked up the path, because I was looking forward to the glamorous lady of the house opening the door to me, she was a "knock out blond" and just exchanging a smile and a few words with her really made my day. On the down side I once left an order on the doorstep (at some calls it was arranged I leave the order in an outhouse etc.) this call had no such arrangement and after getting no response to my knock I risked it and left it at the door, and of course a dog found it and bang went the Sunday Joint - I am sure the lady was compensated for the loss and I no doubt got a "telling off" from the Manager. I can remember however the reception I got the following week when I once again called at her house. She tore into me (rightly so) for being so stupid, I was near to tears by the time she had finished. That taught me a lesson - I never did it again.

One manager at the shop had a little stepson around five or six years old and if he was around the premises would pester me for a ride in the basket. I would plonk him in the empty basket making sure he was safe then off we would go down Mickley Lane the little lad shouting 'faster, Bob, faster', oh how he loved speed. A born speed merchant you might say. However, aware of my responsibility I never went too fast. In later life that lad owned his own Motor Business in Sheffield. 

One winter’s morning I did go too fast and parted company with the shop bike for the one and only time. In thick snow I had just left the shop with a full load, when turning off Mickley Lane into Laverdene Road I hit a patch of ice! The bike slipped from under me and shot sideways along the road with me following close behind. At least half of the contents of the basket flew through the air and landed in a deep snowdrift. A lady living nearby (Mrs Levick) witnessed the calamity and rushed out to me convinced I was badly hurt - fortunately I was just shook up and soon recovered. I then realised I had to search for a number of orders in the snow drift, but with the good lady's help they were soon found and I continued on my round, - much slower I might add.

         Laurence Tym advertisement, 1959

In Totley at that time there were at least three other butcher shops: Walkers, Tyms, and Thompsons. Mr Walker ran his shop at the top of Main Avenue and the other two had farm connections. Lawrence Tym on Baslow Road (I see the name lives on today) worked Totley Hall Farm and Thompsons had a shop on Totley Rise with farm buildings on Back Lane; their family farm was at Lydgate, Holmesfield. Colin Thompson I remember could often be seen wearing a clerical collar, why I cannot recall, maybe he was a Lay Preacher; I am sure many mistook him for the Vicar. 

Butchers delivery boys are a thing of the past now and largely due to supermarkets and their pre-packed meats; so are butchers shops, yet there are still a number in business giving that personal touch many customers appreciate and long may they do so. Looking back, how enjoyable those times were at Totley Co-op - a feeling of one big happy family running through all three departments. I remember the satisfaction it gave me doing that worthwhile little job earning my first pocket money and being part, however small, of the service the Co-op gave to its customers. 

The Co-operative Wholesale Society (CWS) had shops wide-spread the length and breadth of the land in all the towns and many villages, under the 'Wheatsheaf' banner they provided goods and services literally "cradle to the grave", being so much part of so many people's lives - not so much a shop more a way of life. Pre- war and for a number of years after, the Co-op Society traded alongside the small retailers in perfect harmony.

Yet on the eve of the year 2000 I cannot help thinking how things have changed. So many small shops who have tried to maintain the tradition of the friendly local store are being beaten by today's "cut throat" system. It is so sad to see the old values and that quality of life slipping away.

On a lighter note, could it be I wonder, inside the Co-op on Baslow Road in dead of night, the sound of money containers can still be heard threading their way through the building? - who knows! Oh, for the good old days of the Divi receipt. NOW, WHAT WAS OUR NUMBER AGAIN?

November 1999