onionbagblog
This is History| Saturday 27 October, 2007 |
Well - that didn't take long, did it? Seventy years of glorious South London art deco architecture, reduced to rubble within two weeks. I knew the demolition of the old doughnut factory at 137 Clap'ham Road was coming, but seeing it up close was a truly sorry sight. No regard for what went before, just the 'vision' of future profits to come.
It's a similar story down the road in Brixton as the Clap'ham-isation of South West London continues. The old Queen's pub is currently being flattened for yuppie flats. One day we'll reminisce about all these wonderful old buildings, and how a sense of community was actually out there, sometime before we all hid indoors and blocked out the big bad world from the outside.
In some places in London and we're almost there already.
Which is why I hold so dear my little patch of South London. I do LOVE living here; it has everything I ever need or want. The summer months are spent cycling around the Velodrome and then either watching county cricket in my back garden or arseing around at the Lovely Lido; come the winter and I have a genuine local football club to support, and an ice hockey team down the road as well. Throw in a classic club night and the best public parks that London has to offer and you can see why I've made this my home for the past twelve years.
It's so much more than simply a place to live; something that I hope the new occupants at 137 Clap'ham Road will soon come to appreciate. I'm not naive enough to ignore the gun crime and stabbings that have recently hit the headlines, but they're not new. People were killing each other around South London when 137 was still making the daily doughnuts.
I support strongly the idea that a sense of community DOES exists around here - what do you expect with Albert Square just around the corner? My Postie asked about my weekend plans yesterday morning as he was delivering my daily eBay cycling top; Keef the ACE window cleaner of South London (mail me for his moby) filled me in with some proper local history as he climbed his ladder later in the morning. I was even offered bulk discount when I went to buy some razor blades down in Brixton later in the day ('cos you look like you need a faking shave, mate!')
Everyday situations, nothing spectacular but a different world away from the scare stories that I read about concerning my little corner of South London. It's situations like these that we need to cling on to as developments such as 137 starts to transform the area.
A bit of business to deal with later on in the day in Brixton, and I found myself queuing up for a swim at The Rec.
Oh dear.
Never again, I said a couple of weeks ago, not at least until the builders have finally buggered off. But it was handy and it was convenient. Or so I thought.
Five minutes of queuing to flash my membership card ('er, go right through, mate,) still no showers and the constant sound of an industrial drill as I put the lengths in. It wasn't clear if I was in Brixton nick or Brixton Rec.
I can't help thinking about whom the facilities were originally built for (the Rec, not the prison,) and who will actually benefit from the promised hydro-spa (what?) in the future. Certainly not the Brixton Boys now banished from the old heavy weights room, currently homeless and left without any decent leisure facilities in Lambeth.
Which brings me back to my Sunny Stockwell art deco dream home.
Changing times, changing community.
I choose to document it simply because I can. It serves no other purpose than capturing a little part of South London local history. My South London local history.
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