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The Reservation was the nickname coined by some of the local inhabitants of a sprawling council estate in the south of England, not because of the green space that surrounded it, but more the variety of human animals that were growing up there at the time. This astonishingly candid memoir reveals Martin Montague's underclass life of his childhood and an extraordinary array of characters that he grew up with. This coming of age book really paints a picture of countless scrapes and the often unbelievable situations they found themselves in as they grew up experimenting with pints of vile home-made gut wrench, spliffs and their longing to be part of the rave scene. Forget Shameless, in The Reservation fact is even funnier than fiction. Rave on…
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Martin Montague
I grew up on a 1970s built council estate in Purbrook, Hampshire. Us locals always referred to it as ‘The Reservation’ even though there were no big game or Red Indians running around. It was known as the Reservation because of the wide range of people who lived there. Come to think of it, a few of them that I grew up with were like real animals. This is a factual account of growing up and coming of age in the early 90s on the Reservation. It’s also a fascinating look at the everyday life and the challenges often faced by those that lived on it.
My journey represents just one of the millions of normally unwritten stories of human misery, dignity, escape and achievement in often remarkable and unseen circumstances of the country’s underclasses. I’m certainly no literary genius, but then again this is no novel, so the words here are hardworking, functional and honest ones from my own mouth. My reasons for writing this book are not social or political, it’s simply to document and share the often unbelievable stories of life on the Reservation. These events, experiences and places were destined to drift effortlessly into nothing but uncharted, distant memories for those that shared them as we grew up. I strongly believe that sometimes you need to lose yourself to find yourself in life and I certainly did both as I grew up here. The Reservation was like many other council estates that were built in the 1970s. You had row after row and terrace after terrace of houses. They all had white, wooden-clad fronts, dull, grey tiled roofs, metal windows and gardens without fences, spanning several miles. Each house was built identically but was very different in the way they were kept and the people who actually lived there. There were several local parks, some woodland and a few basic shops to cater for the many thousands of local inhabitants.
I imagine some house designer somewhere thought it probably constituted a great design concept to situate so many new families all together with their open plan gardens and allotted green spaces. I’m sure on paper it looked like a great idea but in practice it was a melting pot for an increasing social population. This population explosion had created the need for families to be housed there in the first place. Most families had moved in with small children and now this generation was growing up in numbers that would never be repeated again.
Before I ended up there I lived in Leigh Park, the largest council estate in Europe at the time. We managed to get a council exchange to the Reservation in the spring of 1983 when I was just 10-years-old. I used to be a very scruffy child, with long golden, blonde hair, a fantastic smile and bright blue eyes. I was the youngest of three brothers. My Mum was a single parent who did her best by us and raised the three of us on benefits. So that’s the background to my story. And how I ended up on the Reservation.
Chapter One
It was one of those clear and bright summer mornings in July 1985, as I scrambled out for school and firmly slammed the door shut behind me. I remember looking at the birds in the trees and wishing that I was a bird and could just fly to school. I started to run towards the woods knowing that I would be in a lot of trouble for being late yet again. I am one of those people who really hates being late but I had to carefully time my dash to school to avoid the groups of local bullies who used to chase me. Whenever the bullies would see me, it was like a lion chasing a gazelle across the open plains in Africa. I really felt like I was at the bottom of the food chain and had nothing but my primeval animal instincts and my legs to protect me. To this day I get easily stressed out and I’m sure it’s because I had to hone my basic ‘fight or flight’ instinct at such an early age. If you have ever been bullied in a way that you genuinely feared for your own life, then you will know just how difficult daily survival can be. You will do almost anything to stay well clear of your tormentors.
As I was running towards the woods that separated my house from school, the thought crossed my mind that perhaps I should play truant again. I could hear my battered rucksack straps rattling reassuringly behind me, in a strong rhythmic manner. Hearing that sound meant I was running almost flat out. I hated school and knew that none of my homework was done, yet again. I was a very poor student and never came close to realising my true potential. I would probably get a detention unless I could do it in earlier lessons.
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!