READER John Zimnoch has been in touch with more memories of growing up in York in the Fifties and Sixties.

This time John, from Osbaldwick, recalls York’s early swimming baths - both open air and and indoor.

We’ve dug out some photographs to illustrate his stories. Over to you, John...

“Readers may be surprised but my mother Marjorie and her pals Ivy Turpin and Vera Warriner all swam in the Foss at Layerthorpe in the 1930s.

You wouldn’t do that today for safety reasons. But the Foss and the Ouse were much more hospitable back then.

As recently as the 1950s people used the Ouse for pleasure. There was even a race from Clifton to York and one trophy winner was Rowntree’s Wilf Woodcock.

A fire chief, resplendent in his uniform like some Gilbert and Sullivan Admiral, he also coached life saving at Yearsley Baths in his lunch time. A lovely man he refereed our Archie’s team in the York Youth basketball league at Fulford School and was coach for York Youth who I also represented.

Water polo was played at Yearsley and cousin Bruce Hanchard, my hero, played there frequently.

A tough sport, they were all innocent smiles in their string bonnets on the surface, but were kicking and punching under the water. All splashes and action, it was great to watch their matches.

One favourite spot was down Water Lane at Clifton Ings where kids slithered down muddy banks as a slide through gaps in the bushes, getting muddied up. This delighted many but never appealed to sissy me.

There was a murder victim fished out behind Boyes’s store at Ouse Bridge once where a narrow alley ran down to the water’s edge. We would creep down there, nervous we would be the next victim.

Around 1960 York City Baths club had some terrific swimmers - Alan Clarkson for one.

I was told I could be the next Roddy Frame, a backstroke champion, and join the York internationals but early morning training did not appeal. More to the point, St.George’s baths stank of chlorine and there were two 25 yard pools whereas competitions took place in 50 yard pools.

Ridiculous. I guess our many representative swimmers won because they were better at turns than most.

As for Rowntree’s baths, the water was freezing water and they were all in shade when the sun went down, though I have happy memories of Archies collecting the York schools championship trophy. Captains get all the glory!

Yearsley was the place, however, with Gladys Smith and her husband running the show. She gave lessons to generations of kids, including me.

It was open air and a heated pool: who could ask for more? The water was brilliant when a storm was on, the water warm and the air cold.

We had no summer jobs when you could splash about all day long, my companions, other kids on holiday and all those who didn’t work.

One day I had my new jeans stolen and had to go home in Mrs Smith’s pants, very embarrassing. Red and reaching to mid calf they very conducive to humiliation. Still it was a short walk to Rose Street.

Yearsley had a large chute, too high for today, a triple diving board and a spring board.

It was heaven and we spent all day there.

When George the handy patrolman wasn’t looking we would dive off the slide instead of sliding down and some clever clogs could go down standing up.

Those were the days.”