My dad was a bobby ...and a firefighter

For their predecessors, the work was simpler - yet just as demanding. In the era between the wars, there was no hydraulic cutting equipment, and few cars come to that. York firemen were there to put out fires, and little else.

Perhaps because of that, these firefighters also doubled up... as policemen.

This fascinating nugget of information comes from Arthur Gibson, as do these fantastic photographs. For many years Mr Gibson's dad, Tom, was a police constable - until the end of his eight hour shift, when he became a leading fireman, on call for the remaining 16 hours.

This was the way of it for a long time. Founded in 1836, York City Police Force took over firefighting duties 39 years later. Before then, the only fire appliances in the city were owned by Yorkshire Fire and Life Insurance.

In 1875 the corporation bought the appliances and their station in St Andrewgate. The police were appointed the fire brigade and a new horse-drawn fire engine was bought.

A steam powered engine was acquired in 1899 before the first motor engine arrived in 1912.

Mr Gibson, who now lives in Scarborough, has very vivid memories of his dad's two jobs, policeman and fireman, in those pre-war days.

Tom Gibson joined the York police force in 1923, after extended service with the Royal Artillery and a stint at Rowntree's. Dozens applied for a handful of vacancies and he was one of the successful candidates.

Constables still carried oil lamps on the night beat in those days, and the "mobile" section consisted of a solitary motorcycle.

In his early childhood Arthur Gibson lived with his dad, his mother Elizabeth and sister Doreen in Layerthorpe, then a grindingly poor suburb of York. But Tom's police job changed all their circumstances.

"With him being a fireman and a policeman at the same time, we got a flat at the fire station in Friargate.

"We lived at flat 14, that was on the third floor, the top floor.

"There was a corridor with a concrete floor with three doors for each flat. By the end flat there were three toilets and a bathroom."

A fireman's flat had two bedrooms and a small kitchen. Mr Gibson's mum would get up at five in the morning to do the washing in the communal washhouse complete with mangles.

It was an exciting place for a boy to live. "We knew when the new engines were coming. We used to wait there for them to arrive.

"I remember waiting for the first turntable engine which came bringing an 80ft ladder. We couldn't believe it.

"The ambulance was there as well. It was a lovely blue Talbot ambulance."

His father helped fight some of the biggest blazes York has seen, including fires at Leak and Thorpe, Ben Johnson's and the Rialto.

Sometimes, when his dad was attempting to extinguish a fire, young Arthur would find himself in the thick of the action. "If they didn't have anything to eat they used to ring up and my mum would pack a small wicker basket.

"I used to go on my bike and take him the food and a pair of dry socks."

He would make a similar delivery during his dad's police shifts, taking him some nourishment while he rested at one of York's blue police boxes - such as the ones that were once found on Peasholme Green, Piccadilly and Toft Green.

Another advantage to living at the fire station flat was its position overlooking the river and Tommy Hare's 40 boats for hire.

"I used to wash them at the weekend when I wasn't at school, and work there" said Mr Gibson, a former Fishergate School pupil. "Eventually I got to drive one of the motor boats up and down the river, to Bishopthorpe Palace and Nun Monkton."

For his dad, the working day lasted 24 hours. "When he was a policeman on nights, he would work from 10 o'clock while six in the morning. When he finished, then he was a fireman and he couldn't go out.

"They got a day off in the week and every five or six weeks they got the weekend off."

For his fire shift, he was paid 1s 10d a week.

Not surprisingly, his dad did not sit around at home all the time he was on call. "My father used to go for a drink at the Lowther. He shouldn't have.

"I had to play outside. As soon as the fire bells went, I told him. He had to jump up from the table and run to the fire station to get the engine."

During other quiet times, the men would while away the hours playing dominoes and other pursuits in the games room on the second floor of the fire station.

At the start of the last war the fire brigade was separated from the police and the Gibson family moved from the fire station to larger quarters at the police station in Clifford Street.

Arthur Gibson began a plumber's apprenticeship, although he was later to join the licensed trade.

Tom Gibson, meanwhile, was placed in charge of the police stores, responsible for issuing every truncheon, whistle and helmet to the 170-strong police force.

His wife Elizabeth cooked the food for the prisoners in police cells. She was paid 1s 6d a meal.

"The prisoners got the same food as we had," Mr Gibson recalled. "They used to do something on purpose to go to prison so as to get my mother's food.

"She was a hell of a good cook. It was good, plain English food. The chief constable, the superintendent, they all used to eat my mother's food."

When he retired after 30 years in the force in 1953, PC Gibson talked to the Evening Press about his wife's cooking. "She has averaged about 400 meals a quarter - and the prisoners get just the same as we do," he said.

"York is noted as being one of the best places in England for its police food."

During his career PC and firefighter Gibson was twice commended, once for preventing a serious fire in a tobacconist's and once for stopping a runaway horse in Coney Street.

He was awarded the Police Long Service Medal and, in 1952, the Coronation Medal.

Updated: 11:16 Monday, November 25, 2002