Ushaw Moor and New Brancepeth 1998
Ten years ago, during one of my infrequent visits to the Deerness Valley, I decided yet again to do the ‘grand tour’ - a sort of ‘all our yesterdays’. I went into the New Brancepeth church, at the bottom of what was Unthank Terrace bank, and it seemed quite grand; it was certainly well polished and clean. The cleaning lady happened to be there and I asked her whether she could recall the Dodds' family and also young Margaret Reed, who I believe married an artist in the 1950s [I seem to recall that he was much older than her] – the cleaner could recall them all and clearly had a very good memory.
I was made aware of local historian Ken Clark who I believe was living in Woodbine Terrace, which is opposite the church but a little further down .He made me most welcome and presented me with a steaming cup of tea and the very last copy of his book: Deerness – A Short Industrial and Social History [Sleetburn Press 1987]. What a thorough and very useful book it has proved to be. I believe there is a copy of it at the Durham Records Office.
I then popped into the New Brancepeth Working Men’s Club at the top of Unthank Terrace. Several senior citizens were having a quiet drink and I engaged them in conversation about the area, in particular New Brancepeth Colliery. ‘Soccer’ Gleghorn was part of the company and I was actually delighted to buy him a pint – I think Soccer was delighted as well! He was surprised that I knew about the German engineer that worked at the pit in the early part of the 20th century.
Later that morning I was walking up Station Road in Ushaw Moor and would you believe it, a motor cyclist, who was travelling down the road nodded at me, in the way Geordies and Wearsiders do - with a sideways tilt of the head. That was very friendly but that would not happen with motor cyclists in the south of England, for a multitude of reasons.
Somewhere in Durham Road, Ushaw Moor I noticed an information board which explained the times available for confession at the local church. I am not being facetious when I say that my first thought was – not much time allocated for confessions - I supposed there must be few sinners in the village. I am sure that Ushaw Moor residents, whatever religious denomination they follow, if any, have a sense of humour and therefore will not be offended by what was no more that the wry thought of a traveller. These days, because of so called political correctness, many people are reluctant to express themselves for fear of offending – which can sometimes be wise but it has gone far too far and is at the point where freedom of expression is under threat. That last comment might give future generations an inkling of the present political and cultural climate.
I then visited Ushaw Moor cemetery in order to pay my respects to my grandparents and others but I was shocked to find that I could not locate any of them without the utmost difficulty. That had never happened before and I was totally convinced that the cemetery had been radically rearranged. Are there any comments forthcoming about that? It surprised me so much that I absent mindedly left my wife’s umbrella on the seat in the cemetery. It was only when I got onto a bus at Bearpark [destined for Durham] that I realized what had probably happened. I got off the bus, went back to the cemetery and sure enough there was the umbrella. That effort probably prevented a very awkward half an hour with my wife! I got onto another bus for Durham and after showing my ticket and explaining what had happened I was able to continue on my way without further charge.
Wilf Bell
I was made aware of local historian Ken Clark who I believe was living in Woodbine Terrace, which is opposite the church but a little further down .He made me most welcome and presented me with a steaming cup of tea and the very last copy of his book: Deerness – A Short Industrial and Social History [Sleetburn Press 1987]. What a thorough and very useful book it has proved to be. I believe there is a copy of it at the Durham Records Office.
I then popped into the New Brancepeth Working Men’s Club at the top of Unthank Terrace. Several senior citizens were having a quiet drink and I engaged them in conversation about the area, in particular New Brancepeth Colliery. ‘Soccer’ Gleghorn was part of the company and I was actually delighted to buy him a pint – I think Soccer was delighted as well! He was surprised that I knew about the German engineer that worked at the pit in the early part of the 20th century.
Later that morning I was walking up Station Road in Ushaw Moor and would you believe it, a motor cyclist, who was travelling down the road nodded at me, in the way Geordies and Wearsiders do - with a sideways tilt of the head. That was very friendly but that would not happen with motor cyclists in the south of England, for a multitude of reasons.
Somewhere in Durham Road, Ushaw Moor I noticed an information board which explained the times available for confession at the local church. I am not being facetious when I say that my first thought was – not much time allocated for confessions - I supposed there must be few sinners in the village. I am sure that Ushaw Moor residents, whatever religious denomination they follow, if any, have a sense of humour and therefore will not be offended by what was no more that the wry thought of a traveller. These days, because of so called political correctness, many people are reluctant to express themselves for fear of offending – which can sometimes be wise but it has gone far too far and is at the point where freedom of expression is under threat. That last comment might give future generations an inkling of the present political and cultural climate.
I then visited Ushaw Moor cemetery in order to pay my respects to my grandparents and others but I was shocked to find that I could not locate any of them without the utmost difficulty. That had never happened before and I was totally convinced that the cemetery had been radically rearranged. Are there any comments forthcoming about that? It surprised me so much that I absent mindedly left my wife’s umbrella on the seat in the cemetery. It was only when I got onto a bus at Bearpark [destined for Durham] that I realized what had probably happened. I got off the bus, went back to the cemetery and sure enough there was the umbrella. That effort probably prevented a very awkward half an hour with my wife! I got onto another bus for Durham and after showing my ticket and explaining what had happened I was able to continue on my way without further charge.
Wilf Bell
