Page 40 - My Memoirs - Max Kurz

On arrival in Manchester I visited my old home at 3 Elizabeth Street, Cheetham Hill, only to find that the whole block of terrace houses was being demolished with the last 2 remaining terraces numbers 1 and 3 still intact but boarded up with no entry signs erected. I climbed over the hording into the partly demolished terrace and was shocked to realise how small the place was. I climbed the stairs to my room which as a child I had spent so much time in; it was a moving moment emotionally as there were so many memories. As a child you view things differently, what is small to an adult can be huge to a child. I never had toys; everything that I needed was self-created, I had to use my own imagination for entertainment. I built an imaginary zoo out of wire and paper mesh, I read comics and classics, loved animals and military aircraft. What was not apparent at that time was the understanding that I was a loner, not by design by circumstances; it was my way of avoiding conflict and protecting myself. I was left alone on many occasions in what to me was a big and scary house.
At school I played truant a lot, hopping on buses or trains to go to Salford where there were green hills and heather in open fields, and ponds to catch tadpoles and frogs. I had no money, so when I was travelling on buses and trains, I had to dodge being caught by the conductor. I would pinch apples or lollies from food stalls, I would go to one of my favourite locations, Bellevue Zoo, and gain access under the wire fencing to visit my favourite animals, the lions, and wild cats. I would go to the picture houses and stand outside until an adult came along and ask if they would take me in as a child you were not allowed in on your own, occasionally they would take pity on me and pay for my entry. I was as young as 8 years old.
I was only in the house for a short time; however, I was flooded with memories, it was a very moving experience. Then came the realisation of how small the house really was and how as a child I saw and experienced it very differently.
My next stop was the school that I attended in Cheetham Hill Road. I wanted to reconnect with my class teacher Mr. Stuart. I remember him fondly, who also gave me private lessons and on occasions, I would spend weekends with him and his family; he was good friends with my dad.
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