MIGHTY Jos Neary was a hero to all the kids around town who gaped wide-eyed in amazement at his incredible feats of strength, regularly performed at local galas.

His party pieces included allowing a heavyweight volunteer to jump onto his bare stomach from a chair; and defying the rope-tugging efforts of three men on either side to pull apart his clenched fists.

Among those kids who joined the crush of spectators to watch muscular Jos in action was Kevin Heneghan, now a retired teacher and college lecturer, who brilliantly brings back into focus the simple bygone pleasures of those annual church galas with their rich mix of sideshows, fiercely-competed foot races, brass bands and home-made cakes washed down with pop.

Kevin, an avid researcher into times past, transports us back to the mid-thirties after browsing through his notes on local history and coming across an old programme for Blackbrook St Mary's annual gala and sports day. This was staged on Parr Hall Field, Redgate, on Saturday, July 15, 1933, "by kind permission of farmer John Hurst."

Says Kevin: "The gala programme cost twopence - enough to buy five Woodbines in those bygone days.

"My father was chairman of the committee, probably because he was good at begging donations and prizes. And what prizes they were! Athletes came from miles around, because the winner of the men's mile or half-mile races could take home a grandmother clock, a canteen of cutlery or some first-rate glassware. Not to be sniffed at if you were about to get wed."

Old Blackbrook pupils, now in their seventies, will doubtless remember how they sat at their school desks, stuffing themselves with sandwiches and cakes.

"The food, washed down with cups of tea, came in paper bags from Lionel Swift's bakery in College Street," Kevin recalls. "We then formed up in procession on Blackbrook Road, behind Haydock Colliery Prize Band, smart in their blue-and-red uniforms.

"The bass drum struck up, and off we went, marching in the middle of the road for nearly three-quarters of a mile, because there wasn't much traffic back in 1933."

Parr Hall farm has long gone, its site now occupied by Blackstone Avenue and Everton Grove, while its fields are covered by Longridge Avenue and Frodsham Drive.

"Excitement grew as we saw the marquee and the stalls around it - hoop-la, ring-board, Spinning Jinny, and the coconut shies. There were stalls, too, where we could buy ice-cream, minerals and sweets with the gala tickets (at a penny or twopence) that we'd been saving for over the weeks."

In a freshly-whitewashed outbuilding, Jane Hankinson and her niece Martha Dillon carved ham straight from the bone, while other women, also in spotless aprons, spread sliced bread - a novelty then - with butter the colour of marigolds.

"And," sighs Kevin, "what wonderful ham it was! The memory of its smell still makes my tastebuds tingle." Children's races filled the afternoon until around four o'clock. Kevin recalls: "I can remember the slipperiness of the freshly-cut stubble still smelling of harvest, and how it stuck into your back when you lay down for the start of the sack race. Despite my new 'galols' (plimsolls, if you please, today) I never won anything, but the fun was in taking part."

The adult sports were the main attraction. There was the 100 yards flat race and then the 80 yards sack race, with stars like Edward Kenyon and the Arkwright brothers, all of whom could run faster in sacks than most people could without them.

Races, too, for the Children of Mary and the Women's Sodality. "And what daredevil arranged one race for the under-40s and another for the over-40s?" Kevin wonders. "Mind you, in 1933, we still hadn't heard of ageism, so it didn't matter."

Meanwhile, the band played on, brightening the afternoon with marches like Joy of Life, The Napoleon Overture and a selection from The Gondoliers.

Sometimes the gala crowd was torn between the adult races and the chance to watch a boxing exhibition - "Special Return Contest between Tommy Finnan (Windleshaw) and Sam Cotington (Sacred Heart)." Not to mention the exhibition of weight lifting and feats of strength by Jos Neary and J. Armstrong.

"We lads cringed," says Kevin, "when our mothers took part in the egg-and-spoon race. None of them seemed to know that the trick was to hold the spoon by the end of the handle so that the porcelain egg couldn't jump out."

But the main event of the day came last . . . the men's mile race. There were no fewer than 27 entrants on that balmy July day - from two men on scratch to A. Smith (off 220 yards) and M. Lee (250 yards).

"I still recall the excitement as the bell rang for the last lap," adds Kevin, "the winner was Tom Monnelly (off 80 yards) his first attempt with a start, as he later won the race several times from scratch.

"Tom, with his hearty laugh, later went off to become a Franciscan friar, to the great distress of several local lasses."

Some other names on that programme would not survive the war. "It mattered not to them then, that on the previous day Hitler had banned all political parties but the Nazis. Nobody in Blackbrook had heard of Hitler in 1933."

After the mile race, Kevin and the other kids made their way home in the dusk, sticky with sweets and ice-cream, while the men loaded the stalls on to Sam Finney's sawdust wagon.

"Was this the year," Kevin wonders, "when four of the men hid a gallon jar of ale in the barn to slake their thirsts when work was done?

"When they went to collect it, they found a local character (call him 'D') who was small, bow-legged, and an expert cadger of shoulder-ale, fast asleep on the hay. There was a blissful smile on his face and the empty jar lying beside him."

The infuriated four considered throwing him into the nearby canal, but relented.

"It would be after midnight before he was able to stagger home to a wife twice his size who would beat the living daylights out of him. Justice would be done. And, anyway, it was only a short walk for the men to the Princess Royal."

WHAT a delightful peep into the past! Many thanks for the memories, Kevin.

Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.