At the age of eleven I saw a tennis pavilion on fire behind
our house. Reported fire from a public call box, and fire brigade attended.
Two days later I was taken without an adult to the police station and questioned by the d.c. He tried to get me to involve the local bad boy who lived three doors away, without success. Mother later complained to the police
without any effect.
Oh yes, this was back in 1940, no pc in those days.
Children old enough to walk would purchase cigarettes for their parents, no questions asked.
Black people never saw them where we live, apart from
once seeing Sabu with two elephants in 1938.