My Story: Eunice Brown

A Caribbean family met some racial prejudice when they moved from Crewe to Winsford

I grew up in central Port Elizabeth, Jamaica. That’s where my family was from. When I was 14 my dad died, and after that my mum wanted me to go to Kingston to learn dressmaking and designing. I’d promised her I wouldn’t leave her after losing my dad, but in the end she sent me away.

My brother was already living in Kingston, so I went to stay near him. I used to go in the evenings to my cousin’s house, and every time I passed by, I noticed this young man standing there. I thought to myself, “Funny, every time I go by, he’s there. He must be watching out for me.” One evening he said, “Good evening,” and I said it back. After that he kept saying, “I’m going to marry you one day.” I told him, “You’d be the last man on earth I’d marry!” But he didn’t give up.

That was Selwyn. I was about 18 or 19 then, and he was seven years older than me. My brother was mad when he found out, but Selwyn was such a calm person, he managed to win him over. Later Selwyn came to England in 1958, and I followed him the same year. We got married here in 1959.

I was brought up in a strict Christian home. My mum was a born-again Christian and my dad was Moravian. They insisted we went to church. So when I married a Catholic, some of my family and friends didn’t like it. They thought Catholics worshipped idols and all sorts. But after Selwyn and I married and the children came along, I became Catholic myself.

At first we lived in Birmingham, then Stafford. Later we moved to Crewe because one of Selwyn’s friends was there, and he was working at English Electric. When the factory moved to Winsford, we moved too. It seemed a better place for the children—lots of countryside, plenty of space for them to grow up. They loved it, though they never forgave me for moving them from their friends in Crewe!

In Winsford we were the only Black family on the estate, and that brought its troubles. The police were always turning up. Once they knocked on the door while the children were sitting down having their tea. Something had happened nearby, and they came straight to us as if it must have been my children. I was so annoyed—I told them straight it wasn’t us. Another time, when Selwyn got a new car, he was stopped eight times in one month! He was so easygoing, but I told him it was harassment and that if it happened again I’d go to the papers. After that, they stopped bothering us so much.

Still, we found our home in the church. We joined Saint Mary’s, and the parish has been a big part of my life ever since. Selwyn passed away in April 2020, during lockdown. That was such a hard time. But the people at Saint Mary’s were wonderful. They’ve really been my rock since then.