After I left there I tried to get a job at Skem Shoe Company, known locally as the ‘Shoe-co’. At that time it was the place where most of the unemployed young people tried to get into, because the general feeling was that if you were lucky enough to get a job there - it was a job for life. But I soon found out that the only way to get employment there, was to stand on various street corners at about a quarter to eight in the morning and wait to catch the boss on his way from home to the factory. He always took the same route to the factory, so people would stand at and wait for him to come past and they would then tip their cap and say "Good morning sir, are there any vacancies this morning?" and if you were one of the lucky ones you were told to start the following morning at eight o’clock, but usually there would only be the one person taken on. Most mornings it was a waste of time because there would be no vacancies and personally I didn’t like to go cap in hand to get a job. I suspected that only the people he knew got the jobs, so after a few early mornings I decided that this caper was not for me. I told my mum and dad how I felt and I think they were on my side, we agreed that I should carry on trying to get work somewhere, which I was determined to do, because I wasn’t bringing any money into the house.

After a while I finally got a job at a company called Atkinson and Kirby in Wigan Road, Ormskirk, of course it meant cycling approx five miles to work every morning and back home at night but that didn’t worry me, because I had already been doing that when I used to work at the petrol station. I think I was about 16 at this time. The Atkinson and Kirby site was opposite the main entrance to the wood yard. One section had a steam room where wood was put into, prior to being bent into different shapes. Another section of the site employed about 12 people working solely with toilet seats and lids, which had been made across the road at the wood yard. The main type of wood used was mahogany and the purpose of the work force was to bring the units up to a high gloss finish, fit the special type of hinges and pack them ready for distribution and sale to firms like Shanks and Twyfords. The procedures involved included grain filling, staining, spraying, and French polishing up to a high standard of gloss. It wasn’t long before I decided I wasn’t too keen on this work but I had to carry on and keep my eyes open for something more suited to me. I got on quite well with Mr John Kerr, the boss of this section. We used to play darts during the lunch break and he lived in an end terrace house a few doors from the factory gate. One day he invited me to see his workshop at the rear of his house, (this event was to open up a new line of interest for me.) on opening the door to this small room I was surprised to see a large range of equipment. He had a metal cutting lathe, a bench drill, grinding machine and other units and quite a good selection of tools. I remember thinking to myself at that time – 'I’m going to have a little workshop like that one day'.

Between the age of 16 and 17 I met up with a lad by the name of Milton Blackburn, who lived on the main street in Skem - Sandy Lane. One day during the early stage of our friendship he said, "Have you been on the monkey run yet?" Puzzled I asked, "What’s that?"
He said that every Sunday night the lads and girls parade up and down Sandy Lane with a view to get into friendly conversation to get to know someone who might take your fancy. With that Milton and I agreed to meet up the following Sunday night to join the parade. I remember when I was sprucing myself up prior to going out on this particular Sunday, my mother looked me up and down and said "Where are you off to?" I just said "I’m going out with a mate."

We spent the next two hours strutting our stuff walking up and down this lane, calling across the road to girls we liked the look of or crossing over to have a chat. This carried on for a few Sundays and we had met and spoken to several girls on parade, until one Sunday Milton said "Oh there’s my sister Edna on the other side of the road, with her friend Kathleen, lets go across." We met up with them and I got chatting with Edna and we talked so long that Milton and Kathleen moved on and left me and Edna still talking. I asked Edna if she would go for a short walk with me and that’s where it all started. We made arrangements for one night during the following week to go to ‘Billy Shaw’s’ Empire picture house. We became quite fond of each other and started to see one another regularly. I was invited to meet her mum and dad and the rest of the family George, Jean and Emily (and of course Milton, whom I already knew). Milton was the eldest and Edna was next in line, then George, Jean and Emily who was only a schoolgirl. They lived at number 78 Sandy Lane. When I told my mum and dad they came out with the usual patter, "You’re too young to be going out with girls", which of course I ignored. Anyway a few weeks later they said "Why don’t you bring Edna here for tea?" and so it was arranged. It went quite well and after tea I showed Edna around the smallholding. Edna’s mum always made a roast dinner every Sunday for the family and I was invited on a regular basis, so from then on everything went quite smoothly. That was the beginning of a lifetime friendship and over fifty years of a happy marriage.

Obviously I was no longer parading on a Sunday but the lads and lassies were still meeting up and sometimes pairing off and going on the usual walk down Ormskirk road, turning off down Bromilow path and along to the very sharp corner in the path, which at that time was known as ‘tickle-belly corner’, this dark corner was aptly named as it was a popular place for courting couples to stop. The path then carried on to Liverpool Road and turning left led back to the top of Sandy Lane. A lot of lads that I knew met their future wives on the ‘Sunday Parade’.