It's good to know someone is out there on this chatline.and bothering to answer.
I talk to my grandchildren about the past. They listen- and sometimes are incredulous of the happenings of my childhood. Admittedly I was a bit of a rebel and often embroider things to keep their interest, but in general it's all true.
"DID I EVER TELL YOU" often meets with rolling eyes and 'oh Nanna' but "go on then"
Iwas an evacuee in Atherstonefor the whole of the war--as was my sister. I lived with 3 different families before I found the right one (told you I was difficult and only 6 years old) and lived with them for 4 years, I had loads of freedom. There must be many people who knew the place in the war years.
I'll start some ideas.
Anyone remember th Cotton Mill Yard? There was an airaid shelter half way along. my friends and I would dare each other to go inside and run out again
it was blackout and pitch black and really frightening
Every night except Sunday I had to take a big enamel dish and fetch 8 pennyworth of chips (always the same) from 'Copsons' who ---because we were kids always kept us waiting for about 2 hours.
One night it was my turn to take the dare There was a couple snogging in there and I didn't know. I thought it was the ghost of Belty Beaver (famous Atherstone dead character in those days) I was so scared and dropped my dish of chips and we all ran home . My foster mother also believed in this ghost ,so although she sympathised,she was more upset about the lost dish-and of course the chips.
even after the war- years later , when I went to visit her she was very old, but still reminded me of her lost dish.
Iremember the fair too-always called the stachits-it was years later when Irealised it was 'the statutes' and the fairground kids at school here for the winter season
Also those awful 'sermons' in Sunday school when I felt a fool in my new straw hat, which was forever-until the sermons finished was dubbed a 'jerry helmet' but I still had to go.
And potato picking in September-days off school-working like slaves for a pittance-but we still volunteered
And the very dreadful conditions in the hat factory which stretched from North Street to Long Street-I forget the name. I occasionally took lunch to a young girl who worked there--all day in wellies.
More memories please!!!!
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