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John Walker Reminiscences: Difference between revisions
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[[Category:Family History]]
"I read with great interest the history of the Dinwoodie Family [see [[People of Hoole]]] who were well known Hoole butchers. I remember well both Fred and Jack Dinwoodie running their shop on the corner of Faulkner Street and Prescot Street and to a lesser extent the shop in Walker Street. From the time of my birth in 1945 until I married and moved on in 1966, I lived at 15 Prescot Street right opposite the Dinwoodie butchers. It was mainly Jack who would hang the beef or pork carcass on the door frame hooks and chop it into two halves, there was always a resounding thud as the split carcass hit the door frame. It would then be carried into the shop and duly butchered. Friday was always a busy, and late night, when Fred and Jack would be preparing customer orders for the weekend, by the time they departed for the night the shop window was full of joints of meat labelled for individual customers. Also, in season there would often be a whole pig, with an orange in its mouth, proudly displayed in the window.▼
▲"I read with great interest the history of the Dinwoodie Family [see [[People of Hoole|'''People of Hoole''']]] who were well known Hoole butchers. I remember well both Fred and Jack Dinwoodie running their shop on the corner of Faulkner Street and Prescot Street and to a lesser extent the shop in Walker Street. From the time of my birth in 1945 until I married and moved on in 1966, I lived at 15 Prescot Street right opposite the Dinwoodie butchers. It was mainly Jack who would hang the beef or pork carcass on the door frame hooks and chop it into two halves, there was always a resounding thud as the split carcass hit the door frame. It would then be carried into the shop and duly butchered. Friday was always a busy, and late night, when Fred and Jack would be preparing customer orders for the weekend, by the time they departed for the night the shop window was full of joints of meat labelled for individual customers. Also, in season there would often be a whole pig, with an orange in its mouth, proudly displayed in the window.
As a child attending Westminster Road school, I rather foolishly volunteered to obtain an eye from an animal so it could be dissected, and the class could see the magnifying effect of its lens. I asked Jack Dinwoodie if he could supply an eye. ‘Yes’, he said, ‘come with me’, and he promptly took me to the rear of the shop, got a carcass out of the cold store, gave me a sharp knife and told me to cut the eye from its socket. I just couldn’t do it. Jack gently took the knife from me and expertly detached the eye from its socket, wrapped it up, and gave it to me with a big chuckle and smile on his face.
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