In the autumn of 1961, aged 15, I somehow got a weekend job on a milk round with Cram’s Dairies of Monkton village, part of Jarrow.
Monkton was a couple of miles’ walk from my home in Hebburn. I worked on both Saturday and Sunday. I had to be at the dairy in Monkton by 5am, and finished at about lunchtime.
Mr Cram drove the van loaded with milk and, on his direction, I took bottles of milk to doorsteps in the Primrose area of Jarrow. From time to time, the van was halted and Mr Cram would also take bottles to some doors and knock to get paid for the milk.
(I did the job for only a few weeks – until I fell and broke a couple of bottles. Mr Cram decided I was not suitable for the job, and I was let go. I was pleased that I no longer had to get up 4am!)
At the end of each Sunday shift, I got paid my ten shillings. We would arrive back at the dairy and unload the crates and then go to the attached cottage, where Mr Cram lived. He would count the money he’d collected and pay me from the takings.
One Sunday, we arrived at the cottage and an extended Cram family were assembled in their finery. There was also a baby. It was to be his christening that afternoon; hence the family get-together.
At one point, for some reason, I was given this baby to hold. Imagine me – a 15-year-old lad – holding a baby. I was scared!
The baby was to be christened Stephen. Much later, I watched him on TV as he set world records in the 1,500 metres, the 2,000 metres and the mile; and won a gold medal at the World Championships in 1983, and a silver medal at the Olympics in 1984!
That’s right – he became known to the world as Steve Cram. I wonder whether he remembers me holding him on my lap.
Gerard Cavalier
