ORPHANAGES have not always had the best of press, and the new London production of the musical Oliver! is unlikely to do anything to improve their image.
Yet waif and stray children’s homes could often be happy places and the proof of that sits in the middle of Southend.
The late Victorian building called Nazareth House stands behind high walls in the London Road.
Despite its location so close to Victoria Circus, its walls give it a secretive air, and few people nowadays know much about its business.
Yet Nazareth House is one of the success stories of the town.
Far from being a forbidding place, its key note has always been warmth and it has always integrated closely with the life of the borough.
Nazareth House is owned by the Sisters of Nazareth, an order of nuns devoted to working with the community.
It is now run as a mix of a retirement and nursing home. Its main role in the past, however, was for abandoned, orphaned and troubled children.
The order was founded in 1852 in Hammersmith, west London.
After 40 years, it was thriving thanks to financial legacies.
In 1892 the sisters acquired the old Milton manor house.
It occupied a dominant and historically significant spot in the town.
For 1,000 years Milton Hall had been the home of the squires of Milton, landowners of what was to become Southend.
The medieval hall was demolished and in its place rose an institution where generations of children were given a home, children who might otherwise have been homeless, desperate or even dead.
Photographs of the school show generations of happy, smiling children. Steve Small was one of them.
Now 47, Steve arrived at Nazareth House in 1969, at the age of eight, along with his sister Geraldine.
Their father had disappeared and their mother had suffered a nervous breakdown.
The family came originally from Plumstead, in south-east London.
“I don’t know why I was placed in Southend, but I’m glad I was,” Steve says.
Nazareth House was to be Steve and Geraldine’s home, in Steve’s case until he was 19.
From the day he arrived, he says, “it was a very happy childhood.” Steve now has the self-appointed task of ensuring memories of Nazareth House don’t die.
He is putting together a website to store archive material and provide an online meeting point for all the Nazareth House children, and any staff who are still alive.
He also plans a reunion.
The children’s home finally closed in 1982 after 90 years. Geraldine proved to be the last care-child of all.
A combination of financial pressures and changing childcare methods meant Nazareth House no longer had a place in the world.
As Steve says: “Ours was the last generation to be raised in an institution like this.”
Even the youngest Nazareth House children are now approaching middle age. “There ought to be a record, at least,” Steve says.
The children’s home was divided into three sections, starting with the nursery. Younger children shared a room with two other children, graduating as they grew older to their own room.
When Steve was a late teenager, the sisters of Nazareth found him a flat in Southend.
It meant that his move away from the institution was gradual and, he says, “not too sudden or traumatic”.
Life at Nazareth House was never a confinement. Children slept and ate in the building, but they lived much of their lives outside it.
“We never felt any different to other kids,” Steve recalls.
“We belonged to outside clubs and drama groups, and in my case the Scouts. We were encouraged to go to friends’ houses and they came round to visit us.
“We went on holiday with the sisters. We went to the seaside. On one occasion we had a holiday in Denmark.”
It was in many ways a normal childhood, with one exception.
“If anything, our friends from outside were a bit jealous,” Steve says.
“They always wanted to be invited round here.
“We had these nice big grounds with plenty of space, there were always other kids to play with and we had these great organised events.”
Chief among these events, naturally, was Christmas. “I can never forget the magic of those Christmases,” Steve says.
“Nazareth House became such a magical place with all the decorations, there was so much excitement and activity. We used to do plays for the younger children and the old people.”
The home also grew much of its own produce in allotments, where many of the children liked to work.
“The process of watching things grow just fascinated me,” Steve says.
“Although we were in the middle of Southend, the gardens and vegetable patches meant we were brought up in close contact with nature. It was another legacy. ”
Perhaps the greatest contribution of the home, as far as Steve is concerned, is it coaxed out his talents.
A dedicated artist, with a degree in fine arts, he earns his living as a picture-framer for big London galleries.
“The sisters identified, encouraged and brought out my skills and love of art,” he says.
Steve is now seeking to repay that devotion by ensuring the story of Nazareth House lives on. He also hopes, for one last time on one last day, to revive that community.
He says: “Most of the sisters have now died, sadly, but at least there’s a chance we can get many of the children together back in the old building.”
So anyone who hears the sound of partying from behind those walls will know what is going on, and also perhaps recognise the emotion that accompanies the noise.
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