Who says 1976 was the best year to be a child ?

I read in the news recentley that 1976 was the best year to be a child .

I'm not sure about that ?

We will all have our own ideas about 1976 ..some wont even have been born so it wont meen anything to them but im sure everyone will have a year in their child hood that sticks out from the rest so lets here about them .

But back to 1976 ....So here's a brief look at it from my point of vue .....I was just 6 years old with not a care in the world . Well thats not really true ..there was my 1 year old sister !

We lived in a small town outside of York called Selby .

Dad was a traveling salesman for a machince and tool company so spent most of the week away from home , Mum was a housewife bringing up the blue eyed boy ( me ) who everyone spoilt rotten,.. but that was changing there was a new kid on the block literally and she was beautiful ..not that i thought so but everyone else did so it must of been true .
My days of having all the attention were over ..of course it had started the year before when she was born but now she moved about and said the odd word so was challenging for the spotlight more and i wasn't ready to give it up ! I needn't of worried of course there was more then enough love to go around but it did take me awhile to get used to it .
Other memories of 1976 that i remember would be primary school ...which i was starting to like after a year or so of going , the lessons weren't exactly hard but they were enjoyable now id got used to not being at home . The thing i remember most though is home time and walking out those doors and looking around for Mum and the big silvercross pram with my sister in it , i knew there would be a bag of crisps and a bottle of pop to have on the walk home while Mum asked me what id done at school that day . Those conversations were very one sided with me only adding 'not a lot ' or 'drawing 'or ' maths ' to the questions being thrown at me ( if you ever read this Mum ...sorry ...but i was trying to eat my crisps and set a new record for the fastest downing of a panda pop in history ! )

So that was a very brief 1976 for me ..........the best year of my childhood ? No ...............but 1980 now thats another story

Looking back for me my favourite year growing up was 1980 , I was now 10 years old ..captain of the school football and cricket teams and sport was my life ! The biggest worry's i had were which one of my favourite footballers i was going to be in the kick about after school ( you had to ' bagsy ' your favourite before someone else did ) and whether i could convince my Mum to let me have fish fingers chips and beans again for tea as that was my standard answer to the question " What do you want for tea "

Dad was still selling the machinary and tools but had moved to the factory base nearer were we lived so was home from work at tea time , this was great for me as he now was able to see me play sport more and like most boys i wanted my Dad to be proud of me ... the look on his face that year as our school team won the league and cup double at football with me scoring the winning goals in both the final league match and the semi final of the cup is something that i cherish to this day . But it wasn't just playing sport that we had bonded in ....it was also watching sport aswell.

Dad loved all sports and he would take me and sometimes my mates to watch whatever was being played ... as he said " There's nothing like being there and watching it live " ....for Dad it didn't even have to be teams playing he supported .. it was all about the atmosphere in the ground the thrill of 2 teams /players battling out in front of your eyes .
1980 we went to Headingley to watch Yorkshire play cricket , Castleford on a cold winters night to watch Rugby League sticks in my mind ( a nice hot bovril really warmed you up though ) Elland road to watch the FA cup semi -final replay between West Ham and Everton , then of course there were the trips to Anfield to watch my beloved Liverpool and trips to Craven park to see the mighty Hull Kingston Rovers ( my 2nd love ) .
Hull KR provided me with 2 unforgetable memorys in 1980 ...the Challenge Cup final win over Hull FC at Wembley were the city of Hull invaded London on mass and WE won ! beating the old enemy 10 - 5 ! yet on the train home fans friends family all sat together regardless of which team you supported the day seemed to last forever and i was swept along with it .
And then there was a great night at Craven Park against the touring Kiwis ..we were sat in seats in front of the Kiwi players wifes and one of them ( i dont know which ) asked me if i would swap my Robins badge for her pendant which was a silver kiwi , i didn't really want to being 10 but Dad gave me a nudge so i did and for the rest of the game Dad and the Kiwis chatted about rugby . I later found out that players wifes had been given the silver kiwi pendants as momentos of the tour by the New Zealand Rugby League Board so i maybe one of a rare few to own one as i still have it today .
But it wasn't just professional sport we went to , we would go to the local park and watch the pub team play football or rugby then go back to the pub for a coke and packet of crisps and a pint for Dad so he could disect the match with his mates ....i would sit in a corner booth with other dads kids (my mates) and try and listen to what the adults were saying ...trying to pick up some pearl of wisdom i could then repeat at school on monday ( sometimes i think i should maybe of not done this as i did get into trouble quite abit as you can imagine somethings were not for young ears ) . Some may say it was bad parenting taking a child into a pub on a saturday afternoon but for me it was all part of the day it wasn't frowned on back then.. no-one complained ..no-one critised , it was a simpler time maybe but it was just a father and son together enjoying each others company , i loved the saturdays we spent watching the pub team and the after match hour in the pub just as much as going to a professional game .

I could go on and on and list everything we did in 1980 but there would be page after page .

Tragically my Dad died of a heart attack a year later ...something i have never got over ............. We did have one last great sporting memory to share though England v Australia at Headingley 1981 . We moved home after my Dad died moving to Hull to be nearer the rest of the family .

Something else that i have just remembered about 1980 and how could i forget ....... Rachel ( i wont post her surname ), we walked to school together everyday ( i had to pass her house on the way ) i was teased constantly that she was my girlfriend by both her parents and mine .... we did hold hands and i carried her school bag........ i think she may have been the first girl i ever kissed . Rachel you were beautiful , who knows were it could have ended .

So in concluding my trip down memory lane 1976 wasn't the best year to be a child , for me that year was 1980 .

Does 1976 bring back great memorys for you ? or is there another year from your childhood that stands out above the rest ?

Oh Kenny I take my hat off to your memory, I wish I could remember stuff from my childhood with such clarity!

You were dreadfully young to lose a parent My Dad died when I was 31 and that was hard enough.

As for 1976 being the best year to be a child? I'm not sure either, intrigued to know how they arrived at that conclusion. My abiding memory is the drought, and the standpipes. We lived near the top of a short but very steep hill, not unusual in Sheffield, and the standpipe was on the road at the bottom not the one at the top. I remember going to get water with my mum and having to lug it back up the hill. I was 7 and the containers felt like they weighed more than I did! And my little sister managed to get out of it!! She was only 4 though so I should let her off...

I'm trying to work out exactly which year is the stand-out one for me but I'm struggling to remember when precisely it was. I know why it stands out, it was the year I got my first radio, a proper transistor radio with bits of the circuit board visible on the back. I was 7/8/9 but other than that I'm not sure. It triggered my love of music, which has stayed with me. I spent hours flicking through the stations just looking for songs that hooked me. We didn't have a television in the house and the radio, and books, were my escape.

So, my year is either 1976, 1977 or 1978! I'm going to have ask my mum, see if she remembers!

littleswannygirl wrote:Oh Kenny I take my hat off to your memory, I wish I could remember stuff from my childhood with such clarity!

You were dreadfully young to lose a parent My Dad died when I was 31 and that was hard enough.

As for 1976 being the best year to be a child? I'm not sure either, intrigued to know how they arrived at that conclusion. My abiding memory is the drought, and the standpipes. We lived near the top of a short but very steep hill, not unusual in Sheffield, and the standpipe was on the road at the bottom not the one at the top. I remember going to get water with my mum and having to lug it back up the hill. I was 7 and the containers felt like they weighed more than I did! And my little sister managed to get out of it!! She was only 4 though so I should let her off...

I'm trying to work out exactly which year is the stand-out one for me but I'm struggling to remember when precisely it was. I know why it stands out, it was the year I got my first radio, a proper transistor radio with bits of the circuit board visible on the back. I was 7/8/9 but other than that I'm not sure. It triggered my love of music, which has stayed with me. I spent hours flicking through the stations just looking for songs that hooked me. We didn't have a television in the house and the radio, and books, were my escape.

So, my year is either 1976, 1977 or 1978! I'm going to have ask my mum, see if she remembers!

Editted my op as i forgot to add in a certain someone and i keep remembering more details ...... not sure if its because that was my last full year with Dad that it sticks so vividly in the memory but wow its good to think about it .

Sounds like you've set a train of thought in motion. Go with it.. who knows where it'll end up

Jaysus, i had a wee tear in my eye at the end of that Kenny.

Wonderfully written.

I dont have nearly the memory that you have of those times but wish i did. Thanks for sharing.

I will try to come up with a favourite year. Probably have something to do with waking up at 2am to record commodore 64 games illeagally sent out on the radio

Was it 82 when we had the big snow? I used to hide on top of the caravan and pelt my brothers with snow balls. They were too heavy to go up there, giving me strategic advantage. My dad took us to see my gran. Cars were a no go and my legs were too short for me to walk (I was 6) so he dragged me 6 miles on a milk crate. We had sheep stuck in drifts - the stupid things seek shelter from the wind; as does the Flip snow! We were off school for years (felt like it) and we used to play charades by candlelight in the powercuts, all piled in to the smallest room in the house which had a fire in to keep warm. My brother pretended to fart and waved - "gone with the wind". Great days.

Beautiful piece Kenny. It's great that those memories are still so clear and you were lucky to have experienced those sporting highs along with your Dad and family. Your 1980 is a very special one... and I'm sure your Dad would be thrilled to know you've continued the father-son tradition with your own family.

Swanny, I was thinking about the 1976 drought recently with the news that SE England is having another dry spell this year.
I remember the Lord's Test match v the Windies... where the outfield looked like most of western NSW.
It's interesting about the standpipe. I never would have known about that.

I still have vivid memories of 1976. I was in 6th grade - my last year at Primary School as we call it here. Just my luck - I had this cruel teacher (who we later found out was a failed Jesuit priest... funny, because the school was non-denominational - but I was unfortunate enough to get this guy for a year!) He was also the Sports master and he was a prime example of Zero Tolerance... before the term as we know it existed. I found out the hard way. I was always 'in trouble' but I got my revenge believe it or not. I won't say how on here (nothing evil) but let's just say I had the last word or action in my case. Something I'm still quite proud of today.

Besides this backdrop, I was a fairly happy kid with many good friends.
OK... one or two were bad influences but we 'appeared' very well behaved in front of our parents. Sydney at that time had a feel to it - an innocent way of life - sun, fun and not a care in the world it seemed. In my mind it was like a Beach Boys song and we had a very similar outlook on life. Most of my mates lived by the sea and I'd often catch the bus 'up the peninsula'... Bungan Beach, Newport, Bayview, Avalon Beach (right near "Summer Bay" in Home & Away). We were pretty wild kids. We would swim by day, ride skateboards, do crazy dare-devil things (lucky to be alive really!)... and also sneak out at night and walk for miles doing more silly things. Again, I can't really mention it on here but I will tell you both when I come over to the UK over a beer.

I remember my school reports were very disappointing. Always average. Comments included - 'if only he tried harder and applied himself more' and 'a class distraction!' 'Let's hope X improves next term...'

'76 was also the height of the ABBA frenzy here in Oz... if you were a girl. For a guy it was forbidden to even mention the name. Ditto Leif Garret. If you made the fatal error of mentioning either - you'd get a 'dead leg' or 'horsebite'... and you had to stay still or otherwise the other kid could have a second go. Quite violent really... but it was also a big source of amusement for everybody.

In November '76 the whole school year went out to this place called Vision Valley (had no idea it was some sort of Christian 'nirvana') with lakes, bush trails and "the Sound Shell" - an open auditorium in which we had to perform some act or song (by the end of the week on the final evening) I still remember how we procrastinated and had nothing to perform... but we somehow then cobbled up some pathetic 'act' in the final hours. We got away with it! It was a surreal experience for me. Most of the time we were getting out of control and killing ourselves laughing at everything and anything. The when a teacher walked by - we would put on the straight face (at a click of a thumb) As soon as we were around the corner and out of sight we almost pi55ed ourselves laughing. I get cramps just thinking about it now.

I guess the final big memories of 76 would be that my 2 teams won their respective Grand Finals in Rugby Union and Rugby League.
Gordon beat Randwick (finally!) and Manly-Warringah beat Parramatta 13-10 in a thriller! It was a very exciting year in that respect.

Maybe 1976 wasn't my favourite year. For some reason 1978 sticks in my mind as one of the better years. I had a crush on this girl I met at a tennis comp and I still think about her (and her more serious sister!) every time I drive down a certain street near here.

Or I can go back a bit earlier... 1971 was a happy time from memory. I had an inkling about the wider world; vague memory of a war going on but no pinpoint knowledge of where Vietnam was (we used to sing songs from the ABC Songbook which included the Beatles, The Seekers, Peter Paul & Mary, Simon & Garfunkel). There was free milk at school and the women teachers wore swirly, psychedelic dresses and smelt really nice. This one teacher in particular (Miss T-S) gave me gold stars on 3 consecutive weeks for some school-work I had done. (I beat this goody 2 shoes/teacher's pet girl and I remember her crying - then later scratching me in the playground!)

However, I felt "On Top Of The World", as the Carpenters would say and the imprint of her kindness has stayed with me for a long time. If only everybody were the same these days. Obviously I was very young and naive but I'm positive it felt like a simpler world back then.

Glas a du wrote:Was it 82 when we had the big snow?

It was - my sister was born in February that year. I remember walking through tracks in otherwise head-high snow and my dad telling me later that all he could see of me was the red bobble on my bobble hat.

Kenny: a great article. And Headingley '81 - what a memory to have been able to share with your dad.

Oh lord! I had a poster of Leif Garrett on my bedroom wall, probably c. 1976!!!!

You were exempt Swanny... it was just the guys who copped it for mentioning him.

Leif Garret hosted 'Countdown', (sim. to Top Of The Pops) and he wore these tight yellow pants. The shrill from the girls in the audience was like a thousand parrots.... I feel sorry for him that he has had those personal problems after those years.

Funny how these memories come flooding back when you think about things more deeply.

I shouldn't be exempt, I just googled him to refresh my memory. What was I thinking?!

I have no recollection of seeing him on the telly, no real surprise seeing as we didn't have one, so I can only assume the poster must have come out of magazine and I put it up... maybe there was a mark on the wall that needed covering up...

I do remember his life seeming to implode though, sadly that's probably how he's best known now.

In 1976 I turned 12 years old, and started grade seven in my 7th primaray school.

We moved a lot when I was a youngster due to the big D, Father was a bit of a loose canon and enjoyed woman and wine too much, so mother tried to settle down.

Was it a good year, hell I can't even remember it is too long ago. I do remember I got hitched for the first time, a red head with freckles and a fair skin, for a 12 year old if they were skinny they looked good, so that's about it.

It was rather pathetic thinking back now, as we didn't do much more than holding hands. I often wonder if we knew then what we know now, how much that poor little girl would have suffered.

Well maybe if she knew then what she knows know I would have been the one who suffered.

The other thing I can remember was the huge uphill I had to ride with my bicycle in the morning. School was a mile away and in the morning the trip to school was not very pleasant. What was great though was going home, it is literally downhill all the way, so you only had to get the bicycle in motion and free wheel the rest of the way home.

As for my childhood I can't remember much at all, I guess we aren't made to remember that far back.

Nice story Kenny.

Can't say I remember much of 1976 to be honest

Fair play on the story kenny, really touching. Don't know how you remember all that I'm struggling with putting years on memories and I'm only 26.

I reckon about three of my summers are rolled into one big long memory from when I was about 14 till 17. They all involved pretty much the same things, Spanish students drinking cans on the beach with good friends and good music (even for me that meant making a mix tape for the boom box none of this ipod malark) until the sun came up. Weekly rejection from the local niteclub (JESUS LADS WOULD YE EVER GIVE UP??).

The occasional night time trip up to the local castle and grounds, setting up mission objectives at Maria Camp (named after a mates sister), but it was always the same thing. Make as much noise as possible so we would get chased out of the grounds. That was until the caretakers got wise and didn't chase us anymore, they just rang the police instead. Oh its a sight to see 12 lads shoite themselves as we leg it down a hill at three in the morning with a couple of police in tow. "Just out run the fat lads hughie and you'll be fine"


Then there was the trips through the fields up to a place we used to call The Springers. It was basically this place with a load of soft bouncy bushes you could jump into and not hurt yourself and it had a massive oak tree, must have been a hundred years old with a big swing on it that threw you out over a little stream. So basically we went there to get stoned. Until one day when after stupid amounts of weed the farmer rustles us. Worst part of all this is Ive smoked so much Im in another dimension so when I hear "Right lads I know your in there, don't make come in and get you." "You see lads" he shouts out "Me, I'm a single barrel man, however, Tommy, who's waiting

Can't say I remember much of 1976 to be honest

Fair play on the story kenny, really touching. Don't know how you remember all that I'm struggling with putting years on memories and I'm only 26.

I reckon about three of my summers are rolled into one big long memory from when I was about 14 till 17. They all involved pretty much the same things, Spanish students drinking cans on the beach with good friends and good music (even for me that meant making a mix tape for the boom box none of this ipod malark) until the sun came up. Weekly rejection from the local niteclub (JESUS LADS WOULD YE EVER GIVE UP??).

The occasional night time trip up to the local castle and grounds, setting up mission objectives at Maria Camp (named after a mates sister), but it was always the same thing. Make as much noise as possible so we would get chased out of the grounds. That was until the caretakers got wise and didn't chase us anymore, they just rang the police instead. Oh its a sight to see 12 lads shoite themselves as we leg it down a hill at three in the morning with a couple of police in tow. "Just out run the fat lads hughie and you'll be fine"


Then there was the trips through the fields up to a place we used to call The Springers. It was basically this place with a load of soft bouncy bushes you could jump into and not hurt yourself and it had a massive oak tree, must have been a hundred years old with a big swing on it that threw you out over a little stream. So basically we went there to get stoned. Until one day when after stupid amounts of weed the farmer rustles us. Worst part of all this is Ive smoked so much Im in another dimension so when I hear "Right lads I know your in there, don't make come in and get you." "You see lads" he shouts out "Me, I'm a single barrel man, however, Tommy, who's waiting for you the other side, he's a double barrel man" PHHHHHHHHHUUUUURRRRRTTTTTTTT POO RUNNING DOWN THE LEG. So sure enough we wander out and there's the farmer shotgun in hand, "Right lads get the flock out of my field"


More to follow when I get the time

Great stuff, Hughie!

ha some great memories here!

My fave year has to be in the 90's somewhere. As a kid, growing up in a village in the middle of nowhere, between the age of 6 and 12 it was like a complete adventure playground.

Swimming in the lakes, bike rides,playing in the abbey and woods, making tree houses, swings just whatever. Actually one of the best swings we had was over a river with a deep pool so we could let go and fall in. Looking back am not sure entirely how safe that was, but at the time it was just sooo SO much fun.

It was properly one of those really idealistic childhoods, where for some reason in the summer hols I can never remember it raining (although living in Wales I'm sure it did!). I even remember one summer, it was so warm, the tarmac in the middle of the road would start to melt, and I used to love walking along it bare foot.

Another summer I know we split up into boys and girls to have a competition who could make the best tree houses/hideouts and we were going to stage a "war" between us to see who'd win, although we never got beyond the stage of making the first tree house I don't think!

Oooo I've remembered something else. One summer, I think I must have been 10 or so, me, my older brother and sister and two of our cousins all walked up Mynydd Cynros with a picnic and everything. I just remember us all laying round in a circle with our heads pointed to the middle, and just laying there in the sun for hours singing songs, telling jokes, making up stories....it was just one of those summer days that was absolutely perfect. Of course then we all had a fight and falling out as to which was the best way to walk down the hill, resulting in my brother going off in a huff, but then what day wouldn't be complete without a bit of a spat between siblings?

The 90's though, sure definitely somewhere in there was a brilliant year to be a child.

I just remembered.

One time at bandcamp..














Nah, don't worry that's from a movie I saw.

biltongbek wrote:I just remembered.

One time at bandcamp..














Nah, don't worry that's from a movie I saw.

Some great stuff here.

I was a child of the 90's, too, and had some great times.

Simple games such as tracking, climbing trees etc. At our local park at the time there were some tall trees, no idea of what species, that we called the bungee trees. They had plenty of short branches either side of the bole allowing you to climb it as a ladder, and once at the top we would hold on and fall off. The trees were so springy that you would stop just below the ground and bounce back up and down a few times. Rather dangerous in hindsight, in case your grip slipped, but as fearless children the thought never once crossed our minds.

'Fouling Football' was another favourite of ours. We would all take our trainers off and have a 4-a-side game whereby there were absolutely no rules. Some terrific scything tackles. Loved it.

We could do with some more Admin storys so come on guys

Great article Kenny - my story would have some similar elements, as I'm only a year younger than you and was born and raised fairly nearby (Dewsbury). My Rugby League memories of 1980 are actually that I started playing the game - my first match for Shaw Cross U9s was away at Knottingley, and I remember thinking how amazing it was that they actually had a concrete stand at one side of the pitch.

Later on, playing in (pretty much empty) stadiums became less uncommon, but it seemed a big deal when you are so young.

Probably the best year of my childhood was 1984 - our school rugby team was winning just about every match we played (we lost once in the season) and my cricket team won the local league before losing in the semi-finals of the county play-off. At 12, I was still young enough to not be thinking about girls or exam pressues, and could just enjoy the sports I played and watched (and remembering of course that when we grew up there was lots of cricket and tennis on the TV through the summer holidays - no need for Sky subscriptions and the like then).

Flip sky I tell you a bunch of Kumquat.