This is a photograph I took 55 years ago, looking over Halifax from – I think – Bradford Old Road. This is not just Halifax, this is my youth. Part the smoke fuelled clouds and you can see my school, the streets I walked down, and the parks I played in. Walk up the hill and look north and you could probably see the village I grew up in. The washing on the line, the spires and the chimneys, the black and the grey – they are all part of my youth, my Halifax.
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The Halifax I remember. I hear the evocative song by Paul Simon ‘My Little Town’ in my head when I see imagery like this.
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“Flying my bike past the gates of the factories …” Yes, I know what you mean. One of his very best songs.
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England’s dark satanic mills and its only the 1960s still. A lot nicer these days. Not all modern progress is backkwards.
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