For others, the Ambassador was quite litterally a family affair.

“My nana, Joyce Rutherford, worked on the bar in the bingo hall. She loved the people she worked with. When they had parties with hats at Christmas, she'd bring them home for us!”

Some had parents who worked there, adding to the place's sentimental value. “My dad was the bingo caller there in the late 70s—Jim Morrissey.”

For some, it was where they found love. “I worked at the ‘Ambas’ from 1966 to 1968 and met my husband of 51 years there. Really sad to see it go, made many friends there.”

Others recall their first steps into working life.  “I remember when it still  had all the cinema seats upstairs. My first 'job' was collecting all the discarded bingo tickets on the floor on my way home from school—£5 cash in hand. Happy days!”

The bingo hall was a place of energy, especially for those working behind the scenes. “I used to be a checker—was knackered calling numbers out and running from the back of the hall to the front. Enjoyed it though!”  Some roles, however, weren’t for everyone. “I worked there when it was a bingo hall many moons ago. I lasted one shift—when someone shouted ‘house,’ you had to run and grab the ticket, put it under an illuminated magnifier, and shout the numbers. I couldn’t say them for laughing with my mate—we both got told, ‘Don’t bother coming back.’”

Many remember the acts and entertainers who performed at the Ambassador. “I worked at the Mecca Bingo in the 70s selling tickets and putting the prizes on the stage. I also remember Ken Dodd coming with his tickling stick!”

Another worker noted, “I worked there from 1972 to 1975, the manager was Bill Dennison. I remember Ken Dodd entertaining one bank holiday—they used to get different acts, including Jeff Vernon.”

From the lively buzz of bingo nights to the friendships formed over shared shifts, the Ambassador Bingo Hall was more than just a workplace—it was a community, a place of memories, and, for many, a cherished part of their past.

For many, the Ambassador’s transformation into a bingo hall brought a new kind of excitement, a place where fortunes could change lives in an instant.

Winning big was always a thrill. “I remember my Grandma having a big win on the bingo! Big money in the 60s!” Some wins were so special they became treasured family moments. “One time we had a great win, and when we got home, we spread all the money on the table.”

Bingo nights were a social affair, a chance to meet friends and share in the fun. “Happy memories, I used to play bingo there with my mam and nan.”

For some, it was a regular part of their week. “Went there every week playing bingo, loved it—and I also worked there in the 80s.”

Others kept their connection to the Ambassador alive even from across the world. “It’s a shame that it was demolished—went there as a cinema and also to play bingo. I live in Oz now but still have my Ambass membership card!”

Not every trip was about the game itself. “Used to go there in the early nineties playing bingo—only cause it was half-price beer!”

And for the young entrepreneurs of the time, the bingo hall’s closing time was an opportunity. “We used to do Penny for the Guy outside there in the run-up to bonfire night. When it changed to a bingo hall and you could make loads of money at tipping-out time.”

Some nights were filled with unexpected laughter. “My Grandmother and Mum played there in the 60s and 70s. One night, Dad picked them up, and Grandma got squirted with water—she thought Dad had done it with a water pistol!  He had actually pressed the window washer, but it got her. She refused to get in the car and walked off!  Mum was doubled over laughing in the back seat.”

For a lucky few, the Ambassador bingo hall was a place where dreams came true. “Pauline Wilkinson, my late mother-in-law, used to go playing bingo there back in the early 80s—she won a holiday to Spain one time.”