Mini-mania and Caramac


Eileen Wells,
Dudley
Born 1953

Eileen Wells


"A giant step for mankind and mini-mania loom large in my millenium memories. It was 1969. I was sitting on the windowsill of the lower sixth common room as TV relayed the awe-inspiring moment when Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin lumbered onto the moon.

"It was the day when sci-fi adventures we used to watch at the Saturday morning cinema mingled with reality.

"My grandad refused to believe the moon landing was anything more than an elaborate hoax. His sceptisism was hardly surprising considering motorcars weren't even on the roads when he was born. My great-grandfather had been a horse and coach driver and although I wasn't much impressed by the technology I was fascinated with how the speed of progress affected my granparents' lives.

"We got our first TV when I was seven and Friday nights meant watching Take Your Pick while eating Caramac which dad bought every payday. School playtime meant milk in little bottles with jammie dodgers, potato puffs or wagon wheels.

"It was an era when pop music really came into its own. The Beatles were big, Ringo was my favourite and even granny was a fan. Radio One was launched, causing Sunday teatime friction because my brother and I wanted to listen to the charts while our parents prefered Sing Something Simple.

"Mini skirts and mini cars were in. School skirts were meant to be knee-length but we used to roll the waistbands over. A mind-rewind also brings flashbacks of the Abervan disaster, queues for the Sound of Music, Band Aid and Girl Power - we never realised that was new."