My East End
Memories of life in Cockney London
by Gilda O'Neill

Introduction

Gilda O'Neill was born into a traditional East End family in Bethnal Green. Her nan had a pie and mash shop, her grandfather was a tug skipper on the Thames and her great-uncle was the minder for a gambling den owner.

Her childhood was in a world some of us associate with chirpy cockneys, pub knees-ups, legendary criminals and the Dickensian underworld. Yet Gilda goes beyond the myths of the East End to reveal a far more complex and humane story, from the area's distant past to the strong, close-knit communities of living memory. Gathering together her own memories and the personal recollections of East Enders, she brings us stories of unbelievable hardship and devastating change; yet also of great pride, kindness, courage, resilience and humour.

These tales of yesterday provide a fascinating commentary on our ideas of community today, and tell, with wit, warmth and emotion, the real story of life in London's East End.

Reviews

'A rich tapestry … a finely detailed examination of our not so distant past. Her book is as much a piece of history as the accounts it contains'
Time Out

'Every page is a delight. Every chapter made vivid by a writer who has poured heart and soul into her book'
Daily Mail

Extract

'You'd rally round if someone needed you. If someone was unwell you'd mind her kids, make sure she had a bit of grub, see to her washing, that sort of thing. You knew what was going on in people's homes. It wasn't like you were nosing or nothing, it was just that there was more of a together feeling. We was, like, you know, sort of all one. It was a good thing. Take my old aunt, she used to do everything for people down our turning. She'd deliver their babies and lay out anyone who'd died. She'd even cut your hair, and, how can I say, she'd help you out as well - if you were in the family way again and couldn't afford to have another one. And it was helping out in them days, when you couldn't have another mouth to feed, cos you could hardly feed the ones you already had. People might think today that everyone knew your business, but that's how it was. You didn't have a lot of choice. Not round our way you didn't. You had to stick together. And it wasn't a bad thing either'

The decency of a community really could make the difference between a family 'getting by' and not. A woman told me about a family who had moved into her street when she was a little girl. With them being recent arrivals, the neighbours had no idea that they were going without food to the point when they were literally starving. In desperation they had eaten something bad that one of the family's many children had found somewhere, probably in the gutter after the local market had been packed away. The family, particularly the mother, became desperately ill. As soon as their new neighbours found out what was happening, they were taken under the community's wing. She told me how the women in the street had rallied round and, despite their own poverty, provided food, organized a collection to pay for the doctor, and new and loyal friends had been made. The family were no longer alone.

This person recalled a similar decency, which, in her case, was extended to her own family.

'They soon learned what problems my father had with my mum and they simply surrounded him and did what they could to support him. I had dresses made for me by one person who was a dressmaker, and two elderly twins, who ran the Sunday school, regularly invited us to lunch or tea, where we had lovely home-made food. They saved their rations and made us meat pies, wonderful cakes and jam. It was like an extended family, without which we could not have survived.'

Although there were instances when money was borrowed from the neighbours, it was most often practical help that was offered, as there wasn't usually any spare cash to share around:

One time, Mum lent the family over the road a pair of Dad's shoes. There was a wonderful feeling of belonging in that street. People would never close their doors against you'