Looking back to my youth and the fun we had as poor kids growing up in the Essex/East End of London border. I’ve decided to write the more amusing side of growing up as a Baby Boomer in Barking. But first the background of how we got there. I was born in 1949, 4 years after the war ended. My Dad’s war had been with the Desert Rats of North Africa and had left him with a legacy of duodenal ulcers, hair loss and…
