"I do remember playing in the street and when there was a down draught of air from one of the ovens… and being absolutely blacked out. Just instantaneously you could not see who you were with. It was like being in black cotton wool. The funny thing is I don't remember smelling it, because you must have smelt it all your life. Only when I was coming back in the 50's, into the city [Stoke] via the train, did you smell the atmosphere for just a second or two and then you got accustomed to it."
Graham Davis, born 1930.
