At Dobbies, you could even get your hair cut!

The firm was founded in 1790 in Blackhorse Street, Bolton, by Isaac Dobson and Peter Rothwell, but over the years needed to move for expansion, and when it celebrated its 175th anniversary in 1965, the factory occupied more than half-a-million square feet at Bradley Fold, and three years later it was visited by the Queen.

However, in 1972 a new sign went up, "Platt International", and three years later it became "Platt Saco Lowell" following a merger with an American company. But the world was not buying textile machinery as it had done previously, and in 1981 it was announced that the factory was to shut. The end of the factory was not the end of memories, though . . .

AFTER reading the article recently about Hick Hargreaves, my story is very similar.

I started work at John Hunt's Bakery engineers, in Rasbottom Street, just off Derby Street, in 1943. I only worked there for just over 12 months, my wage being 15s 7d (73p). I decided to go for a larger pay packet and went to Dobson and Barlow's on Radcliffe Road for a wage of £1 0s 5d (£1.2) for a 48 hour working week, 7.30am to 4.55pm, Monday to Friday, with an hour for dinner, and Saturday morning 7.30am to noon. This altered in 1947 when the AEU got a reduction of two hours a week, Saturday morning was abolished, and the other 2 hours were added to the week Monday to Thursday, making the finishing time 5.30pm, and Friday 5pm.

When I arrived there on my first day (with some trepidation), I was put in the Rayon Department under a foreman called Harold Birchenough. He was the old type foreman, who came to work in a bowler hat, but when the whistle blew at 7.30am, he took off his bowler, put on his flat cap, and as his office was up three or four steps, immediately he stood up he could see all over his department. I could hear the muttering "Birchy's watching" and the fitters would start their daily toil. He ruled with a rod of iron, but he was very fair, and would defend his workmen to the hilt if he thought they were in the right.

All the young apprentices (including myself) were put to work on the "Jobbing" bench for the first few months under a chargehand Bob Howarth, until he decided they were good enough to work with a fitter. The jobbing bench's work was to get new castings from the moulding shop and sheet metal parts from the sheet metal department and "deburr" them. This involved removing all the rough edges and casting burrs so there were no sharp edges. This bench was immediately at the bottom of the office steps, so Birchy could watch us!

I remember one day it had been snowing, and one apprentice had a snowball, threatening to throw it at me. I ran through a sliding door into the loading bay, but as I ran through Birchy was approaching the door from the other side, so

I casually walked up the loading bay. Birchy opened the door and got a hard packed snowball full in his face! He wasn't very pleased, and as the apprentice had run back to his bench, he didn't know who was responsible. He got all the young apprentices in his office and gave us a piece of his mind!

The apprentice's names that I remember who worked on the bench were Eric Humphries, Albert Humphries (no relation) and Jimmy Meadows, who signed professional forms for Southport, who were then in the Third Division of the Football League. He went on to play for Manchester City and England. Another one was Vic Rawlinson who emigrated to Canada, and whose passion for jazz and big band music led me to an interest that I still have today. Two other apprentices were Eric Stokes and Frank Greenhalgh, who were both at Castle Hill School in the same class as myself, but as they had gone to work at Dobbies straight from school had left the jobbing bench and were working with a fitter.

One of Birchy's sayings was if he caught you with your hands in your pockets, he would come to you and say "Get those Manchester gloves off" so you got into the habit of walking round with your hands behind your back, or carrying something, so you wouldn't inadvertently put them in your pockets! One day he came to me while I was working, took off his coat, took the file from my hand, and showed me the correct way to hold and use it. After this demonstration, he gave the file back to me and said "if I catch you using a file any other way, I'll cut your bloody fingers off", and I think he would have!

There was a ritual, where all apprentices were greased. This involved having your private parts greased with anything handy, generally the thick grease used to pack bearings. Every apprentice had this done at least once in their initiation.

Dobbies was a good place to work, as they were one of the first firms to have their own barber shop, and you could see the doctor or dentist during works time providing you made an appointment. These visited the factory on certain days, so you didn't have to leave the premises. As at Hick's you had to give your clock number to a man in a little room in the toilet block, and if you went more than twice a day you had to have a medical reason! I think you were allowed seven minutes if my memory serves me correctly. This stopped soon after I started work there.

We were allowed one day off per week to attend the College on Manchester Road, to take a three year course towards the National certificate, and a further two years towards the Higher National certificate, but to qualify for payment we had to do three nights per week 7pm to 9pm as well! As I went to do my National Service during my second year I ceased studying, but when I returned from National Service I met my wife to be, so I never continued. When they altered the finishing time to 5.30pm, it was a hell of a rush to get home, have your tea , and get to the Tech for 7pm.

As it was during the war "Dobbies" were on war work making aircraft wings. Most of the textile departments were only turning out spare parts for the many cotton mills that abounded in this part of the country, but when the war finished, there was a big changeover back to making new machinery for mills throughout the world with fitters going abroad to install them. This must have contributed to the demise of the cotton industry.

I actually went "outfitting" while an apprentice. In 1946 I was sent up to Jedburgh in Scotland with two fitters to repair the machines there. The firm was North British Rayon. I can't remember much about it, as I was only there for three weeks, but one thing I recall was by some quirk of distribution the abundance of cigarettes in the shops there. You could have as many as you could afford, which was very different in Bolton, as you had to queue for ages to get 10 cigarettes! My Dad sent me as much money as he could afford to get them for himself and some of his mates.

At Dobbies, the bike racks were situated just inside the factory, near the main factory building, under a large shed which their own train was kept. The factory had their own branch line from the main line junction at Bradley Fold Station, and as the wagons were unhitched from the trains this little engine shunted them onto the factory premises. Also this hut was used for storing some of the raw castings from the moulding shop, and as they made mill machinery, there was a great big pile of cast roller weights about two pounds in weight, and a favourite trick was to put a few of the weights in somebody's saddle bag and watch them trying to pedal up Cinder Lane (now Radcliffe Road). The lodge at the side of the road must be lined with these, as the poor cyclist emptied his saddle bag!

When the war ended, King George VI and Queen Elizabeth did a tour of the country, and after visiting Bolton, travelled along Bury Road to Bury. Anyone who wanted to see them was allowed from the factory to see them and we apprentices went, but someone brought a ball and we ended up playing football in the field near the lodge. We were late getting back to work and got a rollicking from "Birchy".

There was a football team for the apprentices entered in the Boy's Federation under the name of Dobson's. We didn't shine, as we were trounced every week. After only four matches, the goal tally was 41 against, two for, with only one point! If we lost by less than five goals we counted that as a victory! We were praised in the "Bolton Evening News" at the end of the season for turning up for every match. The younger apprentices (under 18) had PE for an hour every morning, trained by an ex-commando who had been at Arnhem, but whose name I have forgotten.

I also remember in February 1947, there was a shortage of coal for the boilers, and because there was no heating in the factory it closed for two or three weeks. After that they got coke braziers on the factory floor to give some heat (and a lot of fumes!). Soon after, I was called up for National Service in the RAF. When I was demobbed the all firms were obliged to give you your job back, but because I was only 18 when I was called up I had to continue my apprenticeship until I was 22 years old.

My wage at the age of 20 was £3 3s 6d (£3.17p) and that before stoppages! Out of this I gave my mum £2, and the rest was mine to fritter away! The admission to the Palais on Saturday night was 3s (15p), so if I went dancing, it left very little for the rest of the week. Because I was 20 years old, it meant that I was working on my own, and I was doing a skilled man's work for an apprentices wage! This altered a few months later when the shop stewards took up our case (there was about a dozen apprentices throughout she factory in the same boat) and we got a share of the collective bonus, which took our wage to about £4 10s (£4.50) depending on bonus. The skilled rate was then about £7, before bonuses.

On my first day back after being demobbed in 1949, a fitter asked me how long I had been in the RAF. When I said two years, he replied "you only went in for a bloody haircut!"