Gerry Brooke looks back at 100 years of the Labour Exchange

With the JobCentres remaining as busy as ever Gerry Brooke looks back at Nelson Street and 100 years of the Labour Exchange.

The old Labour Exchange in Nelson Street, which first opened its doors to the unemployed 80 years ago, holds an affectionate place in the memories of many Bristolians.

We all know someone, down on their luck, who was had to queue up there at sometime or another.

It’s no surprise then that, over the years, the distinctive, brick-built dole office has become a part of the city’s folklore.

And our very own troubadour, the late Fred Wedlock, in the witty song Virtute et Industria, mentions being “Down Nelson Street on Mondays” as part and parcel of everyday life in the city.

Sixty-two year old John Humphries – known to all and sundry as “Johnny Giro” – has now become part of that folklore, at least among his old social security workmates.

Now nearing retirement John still works part time as customer services officer at Eagle House, the Job Centre Plus offices in St Stephen’s Street, just off the Centre.

Having previously worked for the Department of Agriculture, Fish and Food at Westbury-on-Trym he joined the Department of Employment office in 1975 as cashier.

“Nelson Street in those days – it was nicknamed the “UBO” – had a nationwide reputation as a tough office but the camaraderie amongst the staff there was absolutely amazing,” explained Bristolian John over an early morning cup of tea.

“We all got on really well, like one big happy family.

“Staff were allowed to wear casual dress in those days – jeans were the order of the day – and even allowed to smoke at their desks.

“We even had an annual staff pantomime – it was incredibly popular and everybody wanted to be in it – which raised money for the children’s cancer charity, CLIC.

“Our last one was back in 1987.

“There were a lot of “incidents” back in those days – remember the St Paul’s riots of 1980 – and screens had to finally go up to protect the staff.

“Before that angry claimants would sometimes leap over the desks.

“Even the furniture was bolted to the floor.

“The screens came down in 1991 and, although we now have an open plan, much more user friendly offices, we still have to employ security guards as you come to the building.”

The Nelson Street offices, which were built in 1931 and vacated about a decade ago, now house The Lanes, a retro style bowling alley and music venue.

All the internal layout, unfortunately, has now been lost with old staff having difficulty trying to locate where their desks stood.

“We had a big leaving party,” says John, “with people who had worked at Nelson Street coming back to Bristol from all over the country to say farewell.”

Now very much part of Bristol’s – and indeed the nation’s – history the office is now Grade II-isted and cannot be externally changed or demolished.

“I wonder now many people know that there is a bomb proof shelter underneath the building,” says John

“During one of the wartime Bristol blitzes Nelson Street was damaged and some of the shrapnel from that time has survived as a kind of memorial.”

John, who proudly displays a long service award on his desk, explained that things at the “dole” have changed a lot since he started in the 1970s.

The legendary UB40 of the 1980s has now, for instance, become the ES40.

But the biggest change, he says, is in processing the claims.

“We use computers now but back then everything was done manually, with cards and indexes,” he says.

“Then came punch tapes – I still have some in fact – an early form of computerisation I suppose.

“Now we are in Eagle House things are a lot more modern... and a lot easier.

“But I still miss the informal camaraderie of those Nelson Street days.”

Bristol writer Mike Manson also has fond memories of working at the Employment Exchange throughout the 1970s.

So fond, in fact, that he felt compelled to write a book about it called Where’s my Money.

“I met some great Bristol characters there – on both sides of the counter,” Mike told Bristol Times.

“I’d recently arrived from Leicester and went to the Nelson Street office to sign on.

“I noticed that they appeared to be understaffed and asked if they had any jobs.

“They were so surprised that they offered me a place on the spot.

“Working patterns were very different in those days,” explained Mike.

“There was a little canteen upstairs looked after by Gladys and at Christmas a couple of the managers from the training session would cook a Christmas turkey dinner for everybody.

“In the room above the main entrance there was a one way mirror so that the fraud squad could discretely watch people being interviewed.

“The building, I recall, was substantially constructed with mahogany doors and brass fittings.

“Even the loo roll holders had the royal monogram “GR V” on them.

“If you walk up Tower Lane today you can still see the entrance marked “Boys”.

“The attitudes to smoking and drinking at work were very different in those days.

“The office air was thick with smoke from cigarettes and pipes.

“And the guy responsible for stationery was known to dispense a nip of whisky from his cupboard in the cellar.

“At Christmas I can remember wearing a party hat and signing people on who’d just lost their job.

“ Perhaps, in retrospect, it wasn’t the most sensitive thing to do.

“Before the screens were put up it could get a bit hairy at times.

“Frustrated claimants would sometimes jump over the counter and run amok and we made sure that we had a good relationship with the police across the road at the Bridewell.

“But considering the difficult situation they were in most of the claimants were fairly good natured.

“I met my wife shortly after leaving Nelson Street and she was surprised – and a little shocked I think – just how many of Bristol’s street drinking fraternity would greet me with enthusiasm and offer to share their bottle of Natch (cider) with me.

Nelson Street employment exchange – you can still see the wording there today – had separate entrances for men and women.

It also had separate rooms for skilled and unskilled workmen with “juveniles” as young as 14 (then the school leaving age) queuing up to find work.

Unemployment in the city is nothing new – it’s always been with us – a product of the peaks and troughs of the system.

Some kind of dole, parish relief in fact, arrived in Elizabethan times, leading, over the centuries, to the workhouse and then, later, in more enlightened times, to our present system of social security.

You might be surprised, however, to learn that Labour Exchanges are celebrating their centenary this year.

It was when unemployment started to rise at the start of the 20th century that the Government, under the guidance of top economist William Beveridge, decided to set up a new social security programme that included the provision of Labour Exchanges.

They were initially set up in empty offices, factories, shops and chapels.

Then 100 years ago, in 1910, 62 official exchanges were opened throughout the country.

They mushroomed and by 1914, and the outbreak of World War I, a total of 430 exchanges were in operation.

Painted green – a youthful MP called Winston Churchill called it the “colour of hope” – they contained separate rooms for men, women, employers and children. Most of these new exchanges, it was reported, attracted huge crowds leading to long queues looking to fill the vacancies on offer.

Despite the very low pay – even for the Civil Service – 20,000 people from all walks of life applied to work in them

But the paying of benefits, which didn’t actually start until 1913, had to wait until after the passing of the National Insurance Act.

Sick pay was then levied at 10 shillings a week (50p) with unemployment pay at seven shillings (35p) a week

If no work was available then benefit was payable in return for fixed weekly contributions in the form of stamps.

Unemployment was especially high throughout the 1920s and 30s, a time of great hardship when the Labour Exchanges were at their busiest.

Since then there have been fluctuations, with the early 1980s being especially hard for those looking for work.

Jobcentre Plus – the new name for Labour Exchanges – now employ 78,000 people in 750 offices around the country.

These benefit centres, which now work in tandem with many major employers, process some 20,000 claims every day