I also grew up in Manchester and we had a bonfire every year in the middle of our road! The only person with a car who drove down there after teatime was my dad, who would park up elsewhere. The bonfire was lit when the last dad arrived home from work. The boys would make a Guy and wheel it round on a 'bogey' - basically, a plank with four old pram wheels. They would light rip-raps and throw them at girls, or chuck bangers at us, until the dads came over to admonish them. Fireworks would be lined up at the pavement's edge, rockets placed in milk bottles, Catherine wheels pinned to shed doors. We had Bengal matches to strike, and sparklers to wave around and make patterns.
The mums would do jacket potatoes in the embers and we had toffee apples, treacle toffee and parkin.
The next day, the children would collect the dead fireworks, shake any remaining powder out and make a tiny pile on the pavement, which they would strike matches over, attempting to make another bang - it never worked.
If I saw children doing most of the above now, I would be so concerned, but we did have great fun! 