If we build it, they will come.
“The last time you heard of the Durham Ice Rink along the Great Ice Way of Britain it was a pimple on the forearm of hockey - an open-air rink with a floppy tent held secure with posts pegged into the ice which hockey players had to dodge.
Without fanfare, Durham's dynamic proprietor, Mr. J. F. J. Smith, got to work after the war, and to the surprise of even Members of Parliament, who still wonder how he got it up, built a closed arena able to hold near onto 4,000 fans.”
- Robert Giddens, Ice Hockey World, October 1947
John James Smith, pictured with one of the early Durham ice rink teams
Despite hardly anyone witnessing these epic wartime games due to reporting restrictions, J.J. Smith, who had referee’d every R.C.A.F. game saw the obvious potential for the sport. And when plans were drawn up for ‘Durham Ice Rink 2.0’ following the end of the war, it was John Smith Junior who persuaded his father, ‘Icy’ to build it big enough to cater for ‘big-time’ hockey matches and the number of fans that those games would attract.
Literally a case of “If we build it - they will come…”
( - an apt Kevin Costner / ‘Field of Dreams’ movie reference for those old enough to remember it. )
The new rink emerges on the Durham skyline
While against all odds, the original rink had survived hammerings from the elements and even a fire in 1944, it had always been the intention of ‘Icy’ to build something more permanent once the war was over.
So as peace returned to Europe, and building restrictions relaxed again, plans were drawn up for the new rink, which would become a focal point for the people of Durham and remain in operation for the next half a century.
The fight for a building licence was a prolonged affair however. By September 1945, the ‘Ministry’, who were responsible for giving the go-ahead for the new building still had not allowed planning permission. ‘Icy’, not known for patience when he wanted something to happen and using his position on the City Council, told a Town Planning meeting of his frustration at the situation, informing them that if plans were not passed soon, then the whole project, and existing ice pad “may be moved to Tynemouth instead.”
But ‘Icy’ Smith had promised the people of Durham 'I'll build this town a fine rink if it kills me.” And once the plans were finally passed, true to his word, he did. Remarkably quickly, and to the surprise of even Members of Parliament of the time. The total cost for the new build was £64,000. (Approximately £3.2 million in today’s money, based on inflation figures.)
The ‘new’ Durham Ice Rink pictured shortly after opening in 1947. Clad with asbestos-cement ‘Super 6’ sheeting, its bright white appearance contrasted starkly to the stone and brick Victorian / medieval buildings that surrounded it in this part of the city by the River Wear.
Despite shortages in available building materials, the superstructure of the building that many of us are familiar with was erected in just 9 months by the Cargo Fleet Iron Company of Middlesbrough, with many of the Smith family chipping in to assist with the construction to hurry things along.
In fact, even before the stands inside the rink were in-place, ad-hoc hockey games began to be played - with (unofficial) spectators precariously perched on the bare metal beams inside the rink.
By the beginning of Winter, 1946, most of the roof had been covered, and permission to proceed with the stands was granted, with one stipulation: nothing could be utilised which could otherwise go towards house building.
Parts of the stands were initially erected with firewood which is where, we must, of course mention one of the most well-known aspects of Durham ice rink’s folklore: the famous ‘coffin lids.’
During the war, a vast amount of coffins were made and stored in the area - in the event that a major city was devastated. Luckily, here in the North East got off lightly, but that meant that there were a vast amount of rough and ready surplus coffins kicking about that no-one really wanted or needed.
Step-in old Icy… who duly snapped them up for a bargain basement price and upcycled them to finish off the rest of the stands.
The upcycling didn’t stop there either. Second-hand industrial ‘pit-belts’ - used as conveyors in local collieries were repurposed as ‘skate-friendly-flooring’ - some of which were likely still gracing the corridors right up until the rink finally closed its doors 50 years later.
Skaters gathered for a group photo shortly after the rink opened. Note at the back of the stand is the Royal Canadian Air Force band.
The new rink officially opened its doors on 21 December 1946. With a brand new ice pad of 180ft by 80ft that sat on the footprint of the one that preceded it, a roof that wasn’t going to blow down, and an impressive ability to hold 4,000 spectators (albeit sitting on recycled coffins), Durham’s new barn was a somewhat surprising, but warmly welcome addition to the world of British ice hockey and ice skating.
For those Durham-folk who knew nothing other than the ‘tarpaulin tent’ that went before, it would have felt like a veritable palace. The city had itself a new cathedral of sorts. And a new sporting-religion was about to be formed.
