My earliest recollection is more of Headingley rather than rugby.
I would have been about seven when war broke out in 1939 and I can vividly recall the troops coming back from Dunkirk all bloodied and in a very poor state walking down Kirkstall Lane. We lived virtually opposite the ground and my mother and father, along with all the neighbours, ran out to take them in.
Within hours of that happening the ground was opened up as a rehabilitation centre. The tea huts were used for the soldiers to be billeted in to allow them to recover and re-establish themselves, or as a base after they had been discharged from the various local hospitals. It was my first serious impression of the stadium, even though I had been in there watching with my father from the age of four, and it remains a lasting and unforgettable one. Gordon Morrish
When I first came out of the Air Force about the age of twenty, we all used to meet up at the Headingley Pavilion for the big dance on a Saturday night - in fact that’s where I met my future wife Shirley. It was such a popular venue, especially because there was a way to get in without paying. Quite a few of us used to shin up the drainpipe and through the window of the gents’ toilets.
It was a big social event in Leeds, and almost always all the players would be there after the game in the afternoon sporting black eyes and bruises. If it was a home match we’d go to the Oak or the Skyrack afterwards for a couple of beers first and then back for the dance. The bloke who ran the band there was called Cyril Mudd, a name you don’t forget- they were very, very happy days. Gordon Morrish
Originally published in 'Headingley Rugby Voices' Recollections of supporters, compiled by Phil Caplan.
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Memory added on September 14, 2012
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