Travelling back to New Brancepeth and Ushaw Moor of the 1950s
Part one of two
Leaving Surrey in 2006 and armed with a bottle of cherry aid, I hit the deck at the bottom of Unthank Terrace, New Brancepeth, in 1952. I first of all noticed a really big bolder on what looked almost like a bombsite. Had that got something to do with post war reconstruction? I thought that I might be able to pose that question to a small boy [me] because it was a Saturday and junior school was out. I did not spot myself however and guessed that my younger version was playing cowboys and Indians not far from Rock Terrace. I would not in any case have known what reconstruction meant. There was a church on the right, a few yards further up from the boulder; for some reason I remembered the mild controversy when a young girl of that church formed a relationship with a much older man. Some members of society cannot handle anything but the norm, but that is one for the sociologists.
I could not fail to see the flying buckets of coal high up in the sky, seemingly coming to and from New Brancepeth Colliery. I am now aware that a few years earlier, during the war, such a flying bucket crashed into a house. Luckily no one was killed.
Moving up the road I passed Ivy House on the right, in which my great, great grandmother Dodds lived, then the working men’s club on the left [said to be the first in County Durham] and then I saw my old home, 20 Unthank Terrace, on the left. The edges of the steps of number 20 were nicely whitened but they were no better than the others. I recalled blackclocks, which are better known as cockroaches, scurrying about [every time we came home during the winter we surprised them by switching the light on]. I also recalled my mum’s steamed spotted dick. It was just as good as my grandmother Hope’s juicy and very warm blackberry pie. For some reason I remembered coming home with my family after a night socialising with Denis Young’s parents. It was at Unthank Terrace that I first read The Wizard and also about Dan Dare in The Eagle. The radio programme, Journey In To Space, was fantastic and I remembered one script in which our astronauts found sheep farmers on the Moon. I also got up at about 4am to listen to radio commentary of the test matches from Australia. It was the era of Compton, Edrich, Hutton and Tyson. I never dreamt that Edrich would give me five minutes of coaching in 1961!
At the top of Unthank Terrace I noticed a pub on the left and I now faced the area which was destined to be fronted by the new working men’s club. The rows of houses in that location in 1952 appeared run down and I am now aware that in the following winter the mud between them would make them look even messier. I was shocked at the condition of those properties.
I turned left down the road, with the view of Ushaw Moor a mile away, and remembered that I had joined a Christmas savings club [funded by my stepfather] at the shop opposite the Post Office. My treasured gift was a silver coloured model aeroplane. The national and most personal economies have improved since 1952.
The nursery school in Rock Terrace was all about shiny stars at Christmas, learning how to put my raincoat on, and catkins.
I looked in the direction of Alum Waters. Does anyone remember, on a warm sunny day, being on a bus from Durham City that broke down at Alum Waters?
I walked down the bank opposite the New Brancepeth Junior/Secondary School and recalled the winters when I sledged down that bank. Malcolm Gibb sledged there as well. The school itself was not particularly enjoyable from my point of view. I recall Mr George Hill, who I understand was not unlike one of those typical 1930s teachers who probably relied heavily on discipline as a mode of survival. I was to meet Mr Hill again later in the decade, when I would accidentally bring him to his knees, but that is all in part two. I did enjoy playing marbles and the conker competitions during break time at that school.
Ushaw Moor beckons and I hope you will join me in part two shortly.
W Bell
Soon be Christmas. Best Wishes. (Comment this)
MANNY PECKER.
A KING OF THE ROAD.
In the late 1930's a man we called Manny Pecker
walked the roads of the Deerness valley.
My memories of him
are of a man in his early sixties,tall,well spoken and
he always had long growth of beard.His boots were down at
heel and his many layers of clothing including two long
coats were worn both summer and winter.
The people of the
valley always knew him by this name, i did at one time
know his real name but this has gone from my ageing mind
forever.
His journey through the valley commenced at
Littleburn,through Langley Moor and then to our house at
Alum Waters where my parents welcomed him with tea and a
hot meal, on his departure his shoulder-bag would be
bulging with sandwiches,tea and sugar and whatever my
mother could spare during those difficult and lean periods. progression through the valley was via New
Brancepth to Ushaw Moor where he would often sleep in
the blacksmiths shop of Cliff Brown especially in the
winter when it was cold.
Ushaw Moor was one of his most favourite villages in the valley and he often told my parents of the kindness and hospitality of the many people who helped ,him broken pies from the bakers in Station Road were among the many gifts of food given to him.
The brickworks at Cornsay was one of his regular stops and although he had relatives living in the area he would never visit them,he was also well known in the Esh Winning and Bearpark areas.
During conversions with him
it was obvious that he was a well-educated man,his voice
was soft,his manners were perfect in fact he was the
epitomy of the perfect English Gentleman and although he
never told us of his reason for taking to the road it
must have been caused by a really dramatic event in his
private life.
News of his death spread rapidly throughout
the valley and i'm sure there would have been a few tears
shed that week , such was his popularity.
He was a man of great stature but he possessed an inner calm and
tranquility i think would be envied by many men today.
He was truly a KING OF THE ROAD AND A PERFECT GENTLEMAN.
Regards to all,
Geoff, Turner.
(Comment this)
AN Apology.
Please may i apologise for the spelling mistakes and
grammar errors that appeared in two of my previous
contributions to this fantastic site, it is not because
i cannot spell,merely the fact that i have not kept up
with modern technology.
12weeks ago i had not even
used a normal type-writer let alone this cream -coloured
monster that now sits so benign'ly before me
As i approach
my 75th birthday i'm beginning to realise just what i have been missing these past few years, technology is not
just for the younger generations but for all of those
people who wish to embrace it.
Ihave so many memories and
so much information i would like to share with others,
however,embarrassment caused by my total inability to
type without making at least one mistake may preclude me
from making further entries, it is a pity really for
during the past few weeks i have been able to communicate
with people that i have never met and may never meet,we
do though share one thing and that is the desire to re-live our memories and to share our knowledge with others
of all generations and localities and who knows possibly
world-wild.
I applaud MR.Clough's determination to
create this site and thank the contributors who support
him with their many entries and replying comments,i'm
sure more support would be welcomed, so come-on ,get
those fingers tapping.
Once again please forgive me for my
many typing errors.
Regards to all,
Geoff, Turner.
(Comment this)
I have also made errors in articles but I realised sometime ago that it does not matter one jot.In any case the quality of your articles is remarkable as are the descriptive powers shown within them.Your few errors do not distract from your writing, so carry on please! (Comment this)
Many thanks for your kind words of support and
encouragement, i do have a number of items that i would like to submit i think they may be of some interest to the site readers.
Included among these tales are
1, a watermill in our valley.
2,the strange account of a government spy and a pig.
3,the germans are coming, a narritive of a young boy,s
dream and some comical but true facts,
4,a family containing three pro, footballers not previously mentioned[to my knowledge] on Pauls website.
At the present moment though i feel as if i,m dominating Pauls site which is not the correct
thing to do, therefore i think the best thing is
to leave these stories dormant for a few weeks and
possibly even for a couple of months as i still have
some memories to verify regarding the watermill.
Regards,
Geoff.
(Comment this)