Personal Memories Shared (N-Z)

Please click on the named titles below to read the personal memories shared with Borden Heritage Group

Michael Smith Born and bred in Borden

I came across this site by Googling “Borden Chalk Hole” – a place where I spent many happy hours during my childhood – which brought up the contribution made by Roger Martin (now living in Australia), who I knew well, along with his twin brother, Keith and older brother, Ian.

I was born in 1948 and went to the Chalk-Hole College where I was taught by Miss Alice Edwards, initially, and later by her sister and Mr Jenkins, then ultimately by the much-feared Mr Costin. Mrs Costin taught music, though learning to sing “halloa halloo, a hunter gay am I” did not inspire me much, and by 1958 I had latched onto Cliff Richard and The Shadows.

My childhood chums included Billy Todd, Micky Parish, David (Jumbo) Young, Chris Barton and Roy Stickles. I am still in touch with Roy..

My parents were Jack and Vera Smith who lived in the middle one of the Rose Cottages terrace which is next to the forge pond – never a real pond in my lifetime and filled-in recently – almost opposite the gate to The Playstool.

Jack and Vera are buried in the churchyard within sight of their long-time home, where they raised Michael (now deceased and sharing the family grave), Monica, myself and younger brother Martyn. We were spread over a remarkable nineteen years! Michael was church organist for about half a century, with occasional absences whilst serving in the RAF.

Mr Costin getting the “ride-on” motor mower from a farm barn and piloting it down Wises Lane to the lower Playstool entrance was always a source of excitement: the prospect of being allowed to have a go on the mower thrilled me on every occasion, though it actually never happened.

The annual fete included a display of Maypole dancing by the pupils of Chalk Hole College. Sadly, during practice sessions in the school playground, I was found to be particularly inept, having managed to get the ribbons tied up in knots, so I was consigned to record player duties. I proved to be not very good at that either – taking the needle of the track prematurely on more than one occasion.

When the dancing went wrong at the fete, as it invariably did, Mr Costin always told the amused crowds that he always wanted some mishaps to show that it wasn’t as easy as it looked!

The Austin (or Austen) family moved in at the Forge house as Jim Austin followed on from George Sherlock as village blacksmith, and I gained a new friend, John, who had a younger brother, Arthur. They had come from a place I had never heard of before (or since!) – Cowden – somewhere close to the Sussex border. We used to throw sticks or stones up into the conker trees at the entrance to Borden Hall, and also in the churchyard where a tree grew opposite the “new” vicarage.

Playing conkers was an essential part of growing up in a village, and owning a prize conker – one that had survived several games – was a real status symbol: the conkers accordingly grew titles like a “fiver” or “sixer” depending on their number of victories. Mr Costin sent Billy Todd out to gather some conkers to bring back to the classroom, but nobody knew why until Mr Costin started throwing them by the handful back at Billy to reinforce the point that King Harold had lost the Battle of Hastings to William the Conqueror, and not as Billy had spelled it: CONKERER! Despite being generally regarded as an ogre, Mr Costing evidently had a sense of humour.

Mr Costin got into the habit of playing a radio broadcast lesson to us one day a week, but to his horror, on one occasion an unexpected sex lesson was broadcast, and as this dreadful event began to unfold, he wriggled and squirmed, blushed bright pink and said “Do we usually have the radio on today?” to which the highly amused kids – realising his obvious embarrassment – unanimously cried “YES”.

I could go on for ever with tales of adventures in the pug hole and chalk hole – playing with unimaginable items of industrial waste dumped there; not to mention sliding down steep cliffs and using the rusting disused quarrying equipment as a carousel. But there you are – I survived to tell the tale. No children came to grief there as far as I can recall.

Ian Smith 2013

Vivien’s childhood memories of Borden Fete

My childhood memories of the Borden Village Fete are bittersweet, looking back through battered old rose-tinted spectacles to a time when the sun always shone, everyone was happy and I always got a new frock for the occasion.
On the Friday evening and Saturday morning organisers and helpers were out on the Playstool in force, putting up stalls and tables and bashing in fence posts. Our bungalow backed on to the Playstool and so it was put to good use throughout the day. Everything had to be brought down from the loft, toys for the Lucky Dip and Bunty Pulls A String, prizes for the Hoopla, a donkey with detachable tail, bunting and goodness knows what paraphernalia that had been stored up there from the year before. The fete was powered by our electricity so men dragged the cables up the garden and through the conservatory and living room to plug it all in.
On our dining table there would be a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates. Each year a child in the village would be chosen to present the flowers to the ‘celebrity’ opening the fete. The chocolates were for the celebrity to give to the child. The year that it was my turn to present the flowers it was Mr. Pastry who opened the fete. I remember my yellow dress with white trimmings and white boater with yellow ribbon. I remember the huge bouquet. I remember that Mr. Pastry did not give me the chocolates. I gave my parents hell over that particular organizational disaster.
Someone from the school came and delivered the beautiful dresses that the children would be wearing for the maypole dancing. They were piled up on our settee and the children crowded into the living room to change into them. My parents’ decision to send me to a school in the town rather than the village school, which had hitherto never been an issue of contention, was suddenly revealed to be a grave mistake when I saw the awesome maypole dancing and realised sadly that I could never be a part of it.

In 1966 it was deemed by many to be a very ill-advised, if not completely insane, plan to host the fete on the same day as the World Cup Final. The Borden Fete committee members, however, were never ones to be intimidated by the possibility of their big day being overshadowed by a major international event. My dad carried the television set from our living room across the Playstool to a huge tent. The beer tent was placed right next to it and the TV tent was later considered to be a stroke of genius.
There was always a spectacular opening ceremony to the fete and in ‘the year of the sky divers’ it would have been reasonable to expect that someone would know they would be responsible for providing landing targets for the four divers. Never mind. My mum grabbed the sheets from our beds and they were hurriedly placed on and around the cricket pitch and everyone got out of the way. If I remember rightly, one diver landed neatly on one of the sheets, another landed near to one. One landed in the adjoining field and I’m not sure that we ever saw the fourth one at all.
When the impressive opening ceremony and flowers/chocolates debacle was over, the fete could begin. The cricket pitch was the main arena for all the events, and chairs and benches were lined up all around for the spectators. Apart from the maypole dancing, my favourite thing to watch was the drum majorettes display. It seemed very glamorous and clever.
I won the Baby Show in 1961, aged 9 months. This doesn’t really count as a memory as, not surprisingly, I don’t remember it. I do still have, though, the photo that appeared in the East Kent Gazette of chubby little me sitting on the cricket pitch with my prize, a toy rabbit. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, I don’t have a picture that appeared in the East Kent Gazette some years later of the Fancy Dress competition. I don’t recall what year it was but someone will be able to work it out as it was the year that the fete celebrated it’s 25th anniversary. I’ve got to explain that to make some sense of the fact that I was entered into the Fancy Dress as The Borden Fete 25th Anniversary Cake. Yes, that’s right, a cake, and considering the amount of pink and white crepe paper I was wrapped up in, not to mention balancing the actual cake with 25 pink and white candles on my head, I think I should have done rather better than take second place to the Little Dutch Girl in clogs pushing a windmill round in a pram. I beat The Daffodil into third place, poor thing, stuck in a giant green toilet roll holder stem should surely be considered child cruelty.
A brilliant inclusion in the fete was the Borden Horticultural Society’s Summer Show, in a large marquee next to the Pavilion. It was a gorgeous experience to walk into the cool marquee full of the heady perfume of fabulous flower arrangements to see how my carrot had fared in the funny-shaped vegetable competition.
There were races on the far side of the Playstool, three-legged, sack race, egg and spoon, the whole lot, some for the kids and some for the grown-ups. The tug-of-war was terrifying. Huge drunken men growling and bellowing and if the cricket pitch wasn’t already ploughed up it was by the time the tug-of-war was over. A fire engine from Sittingbourne Fire Station was popular with the children who were allowed to clamber over it. I loved lying in the swing boats in the morning before the fete started.
At the end of the day there was the Grand Auction. Anything and everything was auctioned off and by this time the party atmosphere had got so silly, people were bidding the most unbelievable amounts of money to get the winning victoria sandwich from the Horticultural Show or the last remaining coconut from the coconut shy.
The fete we have now is not yet as big an event as it was then but it certainly will grow to be as people increasingly realise what it means to take part in an annual get-together every summer, keeping a village tradition of having fun doing silly things.
I’m going to help out with the Pimm’s Tent this year so I look forward to meeting everyone who wants a drink and I beg for patience as I’ve never done a Pimm’s Tent before. I’m told the maypole will be placed nearby and as the school children will not be taking part we will be doing a Have-A-Go Maypole Dance for anyone who’s up for it. So at long last I’ll get my chance to do some maypole dancing and perhaps I’ll even get myself a new frock for the occasion.
Happy Days,
Vivien 

MEMORIES OF BORDEN BY JOHN SPICE

In 1932 John Spice and his family moved from Station Street in Sittingbourne to one of the terraced houses on Bannister Hill at the junction with The Street. He remembers that there was a 500 gallon square water butt at the back of the houses and that every week their neighbour hit his bike frame on it as he returned from The Plough and Harrow at Oad Street.

John attended Borden village school from when he was 5 to 7 years old. John’s grandmother taught at the convent in Sittingbourne and as she had given him lessons before he began school, he was able to read and write before his formal education began.

When he was 7 years old, John’s father bought Llanfair in Wren’s Road for £500 and the family moved to their new home and John moved to Tunstall village school. On the side of the road of Uplands there were no other houses.

Borden People

Miss Howe, a village school-teacher lived in St. Martin’s Cottage in The Street. She shared the house with Miss Perkins, the village librarian. The library was open on Wednesdays and Saturday afternoons and was situated in The Barrow Trust meeting room at the top of Barrow House. The room was lined with bookshelves.

Mr Levy lived at Borden Hall and a thatcher lived in Wises House.

Mr and Mrs Ann Brown lived at Bannister House. He was a bank manager and she was a magistrate.

Olive Hinge, who lived opposite, was their domestic servant.

During the 1950s the local policeman was P.C. Pike. He knew the name of all the lads in the area and if any of them were troublesome, he would suggest they ran in the local marathon race, when he would run with them. His only way of quickly contacting Sittingbourne police station was to use the telephone box situated in The Street. On one occasion the lads of the village tied rope around the phone box while he was making the call so preventing him from getting out for a time.

Around 1937/8 the Hinge family bought Uplands house on the road to Tunstall, but they attended Borden Church. They always occupied the front pew and were often noticed to wave a ten shilling note into the collection bag.

Reg Kift was the church organist. He was an architect, who worked for Wraights Builders on Hollybank Hill.

Borden Village

Airey houses were built on what was known as Blue House Field, now known as Mountview.

Cherry ladders were made and sold at the top of Borden Lane, where the road turns into The Street. There were many cherry orchards in the area between Faversham and Rainham.

The two pubs in the village were the Olive and The Maypole.

There was a butcher and slaughter-house next to the village shop. The village shop was owned by the Kingsnorth family, who owned a similar shop at Key Street.

Street Farm was owned by the Bensted family until the early1950s, when it was sold to the Hinge family for about £3000.

Borden Village School

Marjorie Sherlock was the school cleaner and lived in The School House.

Miss Howe had a weaving loom in her classroom and rode a 2-stroke motorbike, which she called James!

There were two Miss Edwards teaching at the school. They both lived in Newington.

Miss Kift is remembered for her hair-style – a bun on each side of her head.

The headmaster was Mr McCullock, who lived in Borden Lane, and he was succeeded by Mr Taylor.

Borden in the War

There was an observer Corps Post near Uplands in Hearts Delight Road. Around 1944 an American pilot crashed while attempting acrobatics. Fortunately he was not injured.

Harold Andrew, who owned Pullens Garage in Sittingbourne High Street, lived in Glencoe. It was near this house that a Hurricane crashed, with the Polish pilot saying when rescued that he was looking for his girlfriend in Kemsley. John’s father helped to pull the pilot from the wreckage and drained the fuel out of the plane to prevent a greater tragedy. A week later a Messersmidt was seen flying over this area. Thomas’s bungalow in Duvards Place off Pond Lane was bombed, as was Wren’s Farm and a Stuker was responsible for a bomb crater near David Harrison’s property in Wren’s Road.

Miscellaneous

The first intake at Westlands School was in April 1950. The building of the school had been delayed because of the war and it opened in the snow with no furniture and only paper and pens, as remembered by Malcolm and Eunice Belsom.

John was the leader of the bell ringers at the church for a period. It was his custom at New Year for the church bells to begin ringing at 11.30pm. At one minute to midnight they would fall silent and at 12 o’clock the tenor would ring out across the village.

Borden Fete

For many years Borden held a fete on The Playstool, which was always well supported and very popular. The celebrations included the running of the Borden marathon around Cryalls Lane and Wrens Road and back to the Playstool. The fete had a maypole erected for some time by John Sillars and also had a stall where people could bowl for a pig – yes it was a live one!

Wrens Farm

There was a spring at the farm feeding a river that flowed from Hearts Delight, through Gibbons Road eventually flowing into the Periwinkle stream in Milton. There was a market garden at the farm, which was worked by thirteen horses. Five or six lorries would take produce to London markets, particularly at Greenwich.

Percy Triplow lived at Wren’s farmhouse around 1936. He would drive a pony and trap to the local pub and often be heard singing loudly on his return!

Seed potatoes were kept in the oast house and cattle would graze around the building.

Cooking

Heating was provided by four paraffin valor stoves. Two of these were placed together, so that food could be cooked on them and a hay box was used to keep food warm.

John Spice

Memories that Peter Wenband shared August 4th 2009

I was born in the black and white cottages in Hearts Delight Borden on 30th December 1925.
My parents had my current home ‘Beauval’ built in Wises Lane Borden in 1927, they named it Beauval after Bauvais in France where my father served in the First World War.
I have a photograph of my father standing by a house in The Street Borden It was a Ladder makers & Carpenters shop near the boarded house with wisteria.  When my father died my mother earned money to raise the family by fruit picking, taking in laundry.

My sister Joan Mills lives in Rainham she will be 86 in October 2009 and she has a very good memory.

We both went to the Borden Primary School in School Lane until we were 14 years of age. I missed a lot of school lessons because I suffered from Asthma and therefore I was not entered for the school examination for entry to The Technical School on Sheppey.  At school I remember the two Miss Edwards who taught ‘the little ones’ and I also remember Mrs Parker.
The headmaster was Mr McCullock, he died of a heart attack and Miss Howells became headmistress. Mrs Finlay taught Science and Miss Kift (sister of Reg Kift) also taught us until she died of asthma.

My first job was at ‘Parretts’ the Printers where I worked in the shop and in the office.
I was also an office boy in the stores at Detling Aerodrome.
I moved to work at Wraights the Builders and completed 27 years; I was articled under Reg. Kift. Wraights Drawing office was in the building now used by Lloyds the Chemist and the Wraights ‘works’ were on the land now used as the London Road Trading Estate.
I served as a Building Surveyor at Kent County Council for twenty seven years until I retired.

My mother was born Eleanor Thomas in 1894 in Princes Street Sittingbourne and she died aged 80 years in 1974. Nellie, as she was known, was a member of the Women’s Institute in Borden.
My father was Ernest Wenband; he worked as a secretary at Pullens Garage which was near Holy Trinity Church on the site now used by Focus Do It All. I have a photograph of Pullens found by my niece at the Library.
My Uncle Arthur worked on barges that carried cement and bricks to London and returned with ‘rough stuff’ (coke and ashes) this was mixed with clay and used in brick making.
Both my father and my uncle are buried in Sittingbourne Cemetery; my uncle’s head stone records him as Wenban which is an American relative’s influence on the name.

I was a ‘Choir Boy’ at Borden church, the organist was Miss Saywell. We were invited into the Vicarage by the Rev. Crouch when war was declared; the vicarage was in The Street. I remember Horace Granstead as another choir master,  he had a Radio shop at the bottom of Park Road Sittingbourne. The next choir master was Cyril Landon.
One day during the War we went out through the door in the vestry and saw two new graves, they belonged to two German Airmen who had crashed at Oad Street and their entries were the last two in the old book. The remains of George Bierly and Fritz Korreller were taken back to Germany after the War.

I started playing the piano accordion at the Co-op Youth Club in East Street and I was invited to play at the ‘Victory in Europe’ party, I continued playing until 1972 as a dance band playing for dances in the village.

My sister did the catering and we raised money for charity including Churchill’s Aid to Russia Fund.

George Sherlock was the Village Blacksmith and he ran whist drives in the old village hall which were followed by a dance. The hall was originally an Army hut used the First World War.

I remember when our band played at Stockbury village hall, the hall was lit by Tilley Lamps and we had to stop halfway through to pump the lamps for more light.
I restarted playing the piano accordion in the early 1980s with an organist, we played for Modern Sequence dancers and we recorded tapes for keepsakes.

Recorded at ‘Beauval’ by EMH
August 2009

Sally Wilkinson nee Clark Thatch Cottage Wises Lane 1952-1966 memories 

My parents, Philip & Ruth Clark, together with my brother David & myself moved into Thatch Cottage in 1952. 

The 17th century cottage had been lovingly restored by a local firm during the early 1950’s, having previously been multiple cottages. The end cottage was still inhabited by Stan & Nellie when we moved in and when they died my father bought their cottage to complete the size that it is to this day. 

During the process of restoration my father had been taking a keen interest in the work & took many photos as a record of the transformation. I can remember seeing them and was amazed at how the cottage was brought back to a suitable dwelling from a dilapidated shell. 

Very sadly these photos, together with many other treasures, were lost when a burglary took place during the 1970’s & the walnut table in which they were stored was stolen. 

These photos were part of the interesting, irreplaceable history of the property dating back to Tudor times with the various shaped oak beams & fascinating architecture. History lost forever, very sad. My father got the cottage listed as a Grade 2 building in 1984. 

My memories of Thatch Cottage include draughts, big open fires, no central heating & having to do my piano practice in a room where the ice was on the inside of the windows, watching the mice running between the thatch & the wire netting outside my bedroom window! The sound of death watch beetles in the beams was really strange. The spacious garden which was regularly visited by jays. 

The low beams caught many a visitor by surprise as they bumped their heads, followed by colourful expletives! 

My father bought a brass ship’s bell for the front door which was stolen one night right beneath my bedroom window but I heard nothing. 

Whilst living in Borden I enjoyed many years of freedom in this lovely village. I made some great friends, sharing in their respective lives & enjoying spending time with them.  

I became great friends with Wendy Bishop from Home Farm, who had a beautiful pony called Bracken & we had many happy hours of fun over a number of years in the mid-late 50’s.I was delighted when Wendy had a baby sister Elizabeth as I loved babies! 

Other names that come to mind are Monica Smith from near the Forge, Ann Coker opposite the Maypole, Brenda Sewell who lived a few doors down from the local shop – (Wood’s Stores if I remember correctly). Brenda & I shared a love of Marmite crisps! 

I spent many hours with Christine Valentin who lived near Harman’s corner with her parents and 2 brothers Malcolm & David. 

Another great friend was Valerie Davison from Heart’s Delight Road. We were in Borden church choir together with Gillian Kift, whose father was the organist. We were rewarded for going to church and also the choir practice 2d each time!! This is where I got married in 1966 – Rev. Phillips was the vicar. 

I recall taking part in a pageant but I can’t remember what it was in aid of but by the look on the faces of the photo I have the children all looked rather bored myself included!! 

In the mid 50’s I went to Sunday School & after a short while I was asked to lead a class in the old village hall. I remember in 1957 we put on a Christmas play when we enacted “In the bleak mid-winter”, various children were dressed up but I wasn’t as I was the child depicting “What can I give Him poor as I am? If I were a shepherd, I would give a lamb. If I were a wise man, I would do my part yet what I can, I give Him – Give my heart “. For me this was quite a moving part to play. 

Others in the play included Monica Smith, Margaret Phillips, Dulce Woods, ? Lambert, Julia Hollis? Christine Valentin . 

This is the hall where my mother went to the WI meetings & it was also used for the baby clinic where she took my baby sister in 1958 to be weighed. 

Borden Fete was the highlight of the year. In 1958 I was asked to run  the“bucket in the ball” stall which raised the princely sum of £2.10s. According to my diary I won the flower pot race and came 3rd in the running race! 

The day after the fete my friend & I went to pick up rubbish but went home having found a few pennies as well!! Then off to Wood’s to buy a few sweets! 

I remember my mother used the shop for much of her groceries before supermarkets! She would put her purchases “on the book” and pay once a week.  

I really enjoyed stopping by at the forge to watch Mr Sherlock, the skilled blacksmith, attending to the horses “shoes”, really fascinating. 

Living as I did opposite the lower entrance to the Playstool I would often ask to take out neighbour’s babies for a walk where we would have great fun. One of the babies was Julia Lane who lived in part of Wises House with her Swedish mother and also Ann Devison who lived in the house at the entrance to the little pathway leading up to the top end of the Playstool where the swings were. I recall Ann’s mother was an amazing dressmaker! 

Another memory which has stuck in my mind was going through a gap in the fence on the lower Playstool & scrambling down the bank to the chalk quarry where I watched the butterflies and was really thrilled to see wild orchids growing there. I guess this is where the nature reserve is now. 

 

Sally. 

Roger Wood’s memories of country life.

I lived in Pond Farm Road in a little bungalow near to Sutton Barron Road, there was only one other house closer to the triangle in the road which was called “Primrose” owned by a farmer John Veitch. He was married to Ethel Veitch.

We owned an orchard which was behind our bungalow and I loved it dearly but my passion was to go with John Veitch to his farm at Bredgar. I spent more time in “Uncle John’s and Auntie Ethel’s” house than I did in my own.

It was an idyllic time for me, I am so grateful to Roger Martin for all his information which has allowed me to remember some of the persons I knew then.

I remember walking to Borden Primary School along the narrow Pond Farm Road and School Lane or walking through the orchards instead of using the roads and playing with my friends, most of them from the Mount View estate. What times we had, everyday was a joy. It was only later when I had moved away did I realise what a wonderful life as a child I had had.

I especially remember the Todd family who lived in Mount View. My mother was not well and my father employed Mrs. Todd to clean for us. Mrs. Todd, Mr. Todd, Ron Todd her eldest son and Billy her youngest son became family friends and I know that we all held Mrs. Todd especially, in very high regard. I am not so sure that much cleaning was done but I do know that my Mum loved every minute of Mrs. Todd’s visits. They would sit and drink tea and talk. Strange that in those days everyone was either Mr. or Mrs. rarely first name terms but never the less dear friends. Mr. Todd came to help pick the fruit, he came on a motorbike and side car. My Dad would also pick the fruit and would sing at the top of his voice, mainly “Jesus wants us for a sunbeam” How Mr. Todd managed to cope with it I don’t know as my Dad could not sing a note.

If anyone knows of the whereabouts of the Todd family I would enjoy very much getting in contact again.

I have so many happy memories of this wonderful place and of the people who lived there just after the war. I don’t think people had a lot of worldly goods then but they were, I remember, mostly kind and considerate. I have to say that this small enclave of Borden Oad Street and Bredgar is to me exactly what Britain is all about and I feel blessed to have been a small part of it. 

Roger Woods-Flack (then Roger Woods)

Memories of the village circa 1953 = 1960

Roger Woods-Flack

I have recently been contacted by Roger Martin a guy who I went to Borden school with and how wonderful it was to hear from him. He has prompted me to write to you with a few memories of my time in the village.  I lived in Pond Farm Road in a little bungalow near to Sutton Barron Road, there was only one other house closer to the triangle in the road which was called “Primrose” owned by a farmer John Veitch.  He was married to Ethel Veitch.

 

We owned an orchard which was behind our bungalow and I loved it dearly but my passion was to go with John Veitch to his farm at Bredgar.  I spent more time in “Uncle Johns and Auntie Ethel’s house than I did in my own.

 

It was an idyllic time for me, I am so grateful to Roger Martin for all his information which has allowed me to remember some of the persons I knew then. 

 

I remember walking to Borden primary school along the narrow Pond Farm Road and School Lane or walking through the orchards instead of using the roads and playing with my friends, most of them from the Mount View estate. What times we had, every day was a joy.  It was only later when I had moved away did I realise what a wonderful life as a child I had had.

 

I especially remember the Todd family who lived in Mount View.  My mother was not well and my father employed Mrs Todd to clean for us.  Mrs Todd, Mr Todd, Ron Todd her eldest son and Billy her youngest son became family friends and I know that we all held Mrs Todd especially, in very high regard. I am not so sure that much cleaning was done but I do know that my Mum loved every minute of Mrs Todd’s visits.  They would sit and drink tea and talk. Strange that in those days everyone was either Mr or Mrs, rarely first name terms but never the less dear friends. Mr Todd came to help pick the fruit, he came on a motorbike and side car.  My Dad would also pick the fruit and would sing at the top of his voice, mainly “Jesus wants us for a sunbeam” How Mr Todd managed to cope with it I don’t know as my Dad could not sing a note.

 

If anyone knows of the whereabouts of the Todd family I would enjoy very much getting in contact again.

 

I have so many happy memories of this wonderful place and of the people who lived there just after the war. I don’t think people had a lot of worldly goods then but they were, I remember, mostly kind and considerate.  I have to say that this small enclave of Borden Oad Street and Bredgar is to me exactly what Britain is all about and I feel blessed to have been a small part of it.

 

Roger Woods-Flack   then Roger Woods 2012

MARY YOUNG (Day)

2 April 1916 – 27 August 1992

Mums Story

I was born in Borden on April 2nd the day the gunpowder went up. We were staying in my Granmars house. Though we lived next door, and it was number 2 and we lived in No 3 Devards Place and my dad was in the army he had to come home and my granny had to draw all the water, my granny Ingram that is, and I don’t know where my granddad was at the moment. We got this water from the well, my granny was getting the hot water ready for me to be born which was her birthday any all rate and my grandad err my dad was having a shave and cut her hand or her thumb rather with his bliming knife so had to send for the doctor that day and I think it was in the afternoon that the Gunpowder went up and they all left my mum behind and next minute they looked round and she was all on the cobble stones.

I had already got a brother Ted but I don’t know much about him at the moment and err my grandad worked on a farm. I don’t know much about him but his name was Enoch Hart Ingram and my granny I think her name was Ahill. They were country people and the house we lived in wasn’t a very big place we had no running water the loo was right up top of the garden. They were wooden ones.

My mum had quite a few brothers and sisters and there was my eldest I think was my Auntie, err my uncle Jack, then he had a couple of children. He was a Rooser. Then there was my Uncle Edmund, Andrew Elsie quite a few of them I wont name them all and them practically born within a year of each other, and after the war we went back into the house next door and when my dad came out of the army as he wasn’t a farm worker we had to get out so we came down to Borden Street next to the Forge or near the Forge and right opposite the Maypole.

I used to like that because the bloke there, Mr Fuggles had a horse and trap we used to go for little rides because there were no buses and I used to go to Borden School. It was not very far away it was by the side through the church yard.

 

Passed to us by Ray Young.

 

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