The Road to Nab End

I have just finished reading "The Road to Nab End" by William Woodruff. It tells the story of the author's childhood growing up in Blackburn, Lancashire during the 1920s and 30s. Blackburn was at the time suffering the decline of the cotton weaving industry and the author's family struggled though years of crippling poverty and injustice. I really enjoyed (if that is the right word for it) the book and it made quite an impression on me. In brighter sections of the story, Woodruff describes his trips into the local scenery outside of the dirty industrial cities. Rolling hills and deserted moorlands particularly reminded me of my own visits as a child to neighboring Yorkshire. It is hard now, for me to imagine how a rare trip to Blackpool pleasure beach could have been a source of intense happiness and wonderment. I do truly take a lot for granted it seems. I have never lived in the north but reading the book made me feel a slightly romantic fondness for the area. It made me consider too how my own great-grandparents fared during these times and I feel ashamed to say that I don't even know what kind of work they did. I have only quizzed my parents on a handful of times about my ancestors but I now feel a strong desire to know more.