When the Armistice was signed in 1918 my father was on sick leave from Germany and, after three days passing from office to office, obtained his discharge from the army (Tank Corps). We then lived in Brentwood where he was a partner in a grocery business. He started looking for a business elsewhere, and through his cousin, Guy Judge, eventually came to Highgate, and purchased Percival’s Stores, 183 Archway Road. His cousin owned the dairy in Northwood Road and the farm in Claremont Road.

After an apprenticeship, my father had become a qualified grocer and provision merchant, understanding the curing of bacon and blending of cheese, and so on, so he found his new venture into oil, colour and hardware needed to be understood. However, he employed someone experienced in that trade, and himself introduced grocery – thus dividing the shop between two classes of goods. His knowledge and manner appealed to the local residents and he very soon built up four weekly rounds to collect orders which were later delivered.

The stocks were built up and the shop became noted farther afield than Highgate for always having just what was required, however out of the way. There used to be gas lights fitted outside the shop but after electricity was put in we had large lamps with shades, one of which can be seen over the doorway in the photograph. The cane chair had been mine until I grew out of it.

The business of ‘Oil, Colour and General Household Stores’ included the sale of paraffin oil, creosote, turpentine, linseed oil, paints, varnishes, stains, distemper, cement, putty and other builder’s materials. Tar and wallpaper paste were kept in drums and sold ‘loose’. Ammonia and spirits of salts gave way with the passing of the years to modern materials like Polycell.

Originally paints were made by builders only to suit the customer’s requirements; then gradually manufacturers made up a range of colours in several sizes of tin; a quarter, half and one pint, a quart (two pints), a half-gallon and one gallon. One day a young man arranged to meet my father in the shop after hours and with the manager they saw samples and discussed an agency for Robbialac paint. When he left, the representative had an order for sixty pounds worth in his pocket and, to use his own word, he ‘floated’ down the road to the Archway Tube Station. This was the first of many orders; in fact right until the 1960s he was still calling on us in some capacity. Later we stocked Lewis Berger’s original paint and one or two other makes, including tins of floor stain with matt or gloss (shellac) finish.

The paraffin oil was originally stored in tanks (standing on the dog’s kennel), which Mr Howie, Snr, suggested we piped into the shop where we had three taps from which to serve. After a few years we only used two taps as it was too difficult in the space provided, and eventually we used only one. Nevertheless, it was well used. The paraffin was ‘manhandled’ in churns from the tanker into the yard where it was handed up to be tipped into the tank. Thankfully, in the 1950s the automatic pump was developed to wrok off the tanker enginer, and in the 1960s, when paraffin was the ‘in’ heating fuel, the pump was invaluable. Then we had larger tanks installed.

Garden fertilizers and stakes, poisons (for which a licence was required), rollers, mowers, seeds (although seasonal), were always in stock, together with disinfectants and sprays, light fencing, roofing felt, wire netting, grass edging, shears and pruners. We were also an agency for sharpening scissors and mowers. We hired out a garden mower and a marmalade machine.

Ironmongery, including screws, nails and ancillary goods, tools for the house and garden and work in all trades, was stocked, as well as cutlery and so on, and several kinds of curtain fittings – in the earlier days to take wooden or brass rods, later on the runner principle. All spare parts for oil, gas and electrical heating and lighting, including Valor and later Aladdin makes, were sold.

We stocked china, glass and earthenware – Pyrex, Judge and Jury enamelware and, in the earlier days, an extensive range of tin cooking utensils. We had boiling stoves and ovens, grates and firebricks. As my father was a trained grocer, although he could not bring in cheese and butter and other provisions he introduced wide ranges of dry goods from well-known firms: Rowntree, Cadbury, Reckitt & Colman, McDougall’s flour, and later Spiller’s, Lyons’ tea and Brooke Bond (specializing in China tea), Tate & Lyle’s sugar, dried fruit, canned foods and fruit, and products by Heinz and Crosse & Blacwell. After the Second World War we dealt extensively with animal food in tins and packets.

We stocked household articles: some made of wood, such as clothes airers, pegs, baskets and stools; aluminum kettles, tea-pots and saucepans; torches and clocks; and, at Christmas, between the wars, boxes of crackers in every size and colour with many different contents. I think in those years everyone managed to have a box of crackers to pull – today they are not quite so popular.

After the 1914-18 War we bought bar soap, carbolic and yellow soap in large quantities to keep the price low; this was stored in the cellar, which was cool, enabling it to harden and last longer. Later, after the 1939-45 War, synthetic powders came into use, derivatives from petrol, and again great competition was created with inducements to buy in bulk and thus gain by discounts, giving a bigger ‘margin’ and better price to the customer.

Along with the paint we should not forget the extensive range of paint brushes in every size and many designs and grades from sable and hair to blended mixtures. There were also household brushes and brooms, yard and platform brooms.

Right until the end we had tin kettles strung on broom handles fixed to the ceiling, next to the bundle of string secured in the same way.

We had fluorescent lighting fitted throughout the shop and in the windows.

We had so many items, until the 1950 period, that we only took stock every three years as it took such a long time. In 1951, when I took over, there were fourteen hardware representatives or suppliers. When we closed in 1971 there were three.

Mr Percival was a very helpful man and was well known in the neighbourhood. He walked out of the shop and went to live in Boxhill, where he lived to be over 100 years old. Where ‘Oxfam’ now is was a sweetshop kept by ‘Auntie’, who was of German origin and had to report weekly to the police. Her niece carried on the business and then moved away. I met her again some years ago.

Mr and Mrs Cude used to have a greengrocer’s shop on the corner of Wembury Road, under the name of Matthews. During the last war the son died and the father had an accident with his cart and horse, so they sold up and moved away.

Richardson’s the furniture shop, gradually increased in size and indulged in a new shopfront. Hide’s, the greengrocer next door, had sold up and moved away by then.

Traffic was beginning to build up by the 1920s. I can remember cars appearing and my father even bought one, but never succeeded in mastering the wayward thing – traveling was cold or hot according to the climate and the radiator used to overheat. In the end an unfortunate motor cyclist shot out of a side turning into the side of our car, causing my mother to become ill, and we sold the car.

Buses increased in frequency and private companies used to stop at any place on the road in order to claim a fare. The brown-coloured bus number 184 I mostly remember, because it was the fastest and traveled to and from Barnet. It was lovely to climb up on top and see the views and feel the breeze on a hot day.

At one period, probably about 1926, I remember checking the time between the buses – two minutes, so I could always walk out and practically step on a bus to any destination with no waiting worth mentioning.

I started at North London Collegiate School in Camden Road in 1926, when we had the General Strike. All those who could travelled with friends in cars, but many walked to wrok and the streets were full of plain-clothes policemen wearing armbands. It was a rather harassing time for a new girl and we had just grown used to it when all was settled and we went back to regular travelling.

But not for long – one afternoon I returned to find a hole in the road immediately outside the shop. It was there for six months, with men working on it twenty-four hours a day. Somehow I managed to sleep with machinery and the men working under arc lamps. They laid a huge drain for the river to run through. The earth had gradually been eroded by the water. All the buses and traffic going south had to turn left down Northwood Road, along Langdon Park Road back into the Archway Road, near St Augustine’s Church. I believe all the road surfaces were damaged with the strain that was put on them by the weight and vibration of the traffic. One afternoon a bus driver turned up Wembury Road by mistake’ how he ever reached the top I shall never know, he was pouring with perspiration from his anxiety – but he did drive safely on to the Archway Road.

The trams used to clang up and down in the middle of the road. At night you could hear them flying down from Shepherds Hill all the way until they passed under the bridge, and if anyone appeared in their way the driver clanged a foot-bell and woke everyone up.

In the early days of the motor car, accidents occurred and eventually the shopkeepers took it in turns to aid the sick and the injured. In the 1920s a qualified nurse was called in here and our living room was occupied for the whole day. Soon afterwards the ambulance brigades were introduced and have bben very much in evidence in this road during all my sixty years here, performing their marvelous work day or night.

I remember waking up one night to firebells and on leaning out of the window saw St Augustine’s on fire – since then I have seen several such fires, including the synagogue fire in 1976.

We had some terrible winters, I remember, when everyone was frozen out and icicles hung down the waste pipes. After several bad years everyone boarded lofts and lagged pipes – very good for trade.

One year, at Christmas, the paraffin was so late arriving and there were so many cans on the shopfloor all the assistants worked until midnight to fill and deliver them. On a similar occasion my father developed pneumonia but recovered in ten days; he was very strong. At one time we had a Mr Finch, a Mr Bird and a Mrs Wood working here.

An old resident called to see us in the 1970s. She reminded me that the pavement was very much higher than the road and had about three steps up to it. This height difference was later altered by the road surface being raised.