Why has the town of Dudley given up on itself?
One of my fondest childhood memories is walking Dudley High Street with my mother, aunt and sister at dusk on Sundays, window shopping, envious of those able to afford the clothes, jewellery, shoes, toys and ornaments on display. With its flourishing open-air market, brand-name stores, family-owned businesses, tea shops and long-established pubs, Dudley of the 1960s and ‘70s was a safe, respectful community – the very definition of middle-class England. Stretched out between a Norman castle at one end and rising toward the spire of St. Thomas and St. Luke’s Church at the other, the high street was the thriving centre of local life, a dominant presence at the heart of the industrial Black Country in the West Midlands.
