The Luftwaffe was the making of Burgess Park

Burgess Park owes its existence to the Luftwaffe, writes Yann Tear.

The stretch of South London it occupies was a maze of streets, terraced houses, light industrial units and factories – and no recreational space existed.

German bombs ensured there would be room for such a project.

A large swathe of Camberwell and surrounding areas were ruled by the notorious Richardson gang in the 1960s – who were to South London what the Krays were to the East End. Charlie and Eddie’s empire ruled when drug dealing, pornography and police corruption were apparently rife.

No wonder the need to develop that piece of parkland escapism became so important.

Legend has it that town planners cowering in an air raid shelter during the Second World War vowed to make life more bearable for the long-suffering populace once it was all over, and the 1943 Abercrombie Plan was born.

Sir Patrick Abercrombie, an architect and urban planner, saw the bombing as an opportunity to start over and create wide-open spaces, and the result is the 140-acre park we now have.

Among the industrial units flattened was soft drink maker R White’s, Newby’s Ice Store and a commercial bakery.

Few significant buildings survived, although some charming old alms house cottages in Chumleigh Gardens did, as well as a 19th century lime kiln and the Passmore Edwards library, baths and washhouses.

It was not an overnight project clearing the area though, with many compulsory purchases required to free up more land.

Another of the issues was the need to fill in a fetid waterway – the Surrey Canal – which was supposed to transport produce from Croydon’s market gardens to central London but which was never fully realised.

The banks of the canal were found to be polluted with creosote and a factory where luminous dials had been manufactured left the ground radioactive.

The park was named in 1972 after a popular Labour councillor, Jessie Burgess, an alderwoman who was a big supporter of the park-creation project.

In an essay about the park, writer Hunter Davies said one of the first park managers, Dave Sadler, recalled that he once went to check on a newly acquired factory and found locks broken off and vehicles inside piled up with stolen whisky.

This was an urban area decamping.

In the early 1980s an artificial lake was created with the intention of getting leisure seekers to take out dinghies and sailing boats and we soon had a cafe and gardens to further the transformation.

The park has history, but not the scattering of memorial benches you get in most parks in the capital.

Long-term users there may be, but perhaps not the deep association with the space which might prompt the desire to leave a lasting memorial.

In other words, it is still a relatively new park, but already its past feels a long time ago.

 

Pictured: The park in 1977 Pictures: Friends of Burgess Park (Liam Hennessy}