Extraordinary Lives

MY MOTHER Ellen, who was nicknamed Nell, was born in Duck Street, Swinford, Co. Mayo, during the Great Depression. Her father had gone to Colorado during the Gold Rush and came back to Ireland a wealthy man. But he’d lost it all by the time he died when Nell was just four. He left his widow, Mary Neary, with five children and no money. They walked to school with holes in their shoes, but they had a roof over their heads, a few cattle and hens, meaning milk, butter and eggs were plentiful. In 1948, Nell and her four siblings, John, Jim, Mary and Matt, crossed the Irish Sea on an over-loaded cattle boat, which was a terrifying experience. They settled in Manchester and my mother affectionately referred to the five of them as the Duck Street Babes. Nell and Mary worked as barmaids in her Auntie Alice’s pub, the Church Inn, in Tyldesley. They were stunning, with long dark hair, ruby red lips and laughing eyes. Rex Baxter worked in the nearby cotton mill, Caleb Wright’s, and drank in the Church Inn. He caught my mother’s eye and it was love at first sight, but Auntie Alice didn’t

approve because he was a Protestant, and a lanky one at that. She’d say: ‘If I catch that long ’un round here again I’ll have his guts for garters.’ Unperturbed, they carried on their secret romance and married in 1954. In the 1950s, my mother worked in Lancashire’s cotton mills. Work was so plentiful that she told me: ‘You could walk out of a job on Friday and into a new one on Monday.’ She then became a postwoman and was chased down a garden path by what she related were three Rockefellers — she meant Rottweilers! My mother was well liked, great craic and knew how to make people laugh. She often said to me: ‘I love Tyldesley, the people are friendly and welcomed me with open arms. I’ll never leave.’ Nell and Rex had three children, Maureen, the late David and me; three grandchildren, Fiona, David and Aimee; and two great-grandchildren, Olivia and Sienna. My mother died of coronavirus in Bolton hospital the day after her 88th birthday. Only one member of the family had been allowed to visit her on the ward and take presents. We chose her granddaughter, Fiona. The nurses made a cake and they had tea. Then my mother whispered to Fiona: ‘I’m ready to go to heaven now.’ She was the last of the Duck Street Babes. n ELLEN ‘NELL’ BAXTER, born July 16, 1933; died July 17, 2021, aged 88.