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Linda Mary Wright (nee Stapleton)
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Memories of Fletcher Road
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I am Linda Mary Wright (nee Stapleton) and I was born at number twelve on March 18th 1942, and lived there with my older sister Molly, and our parents Mabel (nee Bazeley) and Arthur Stapleton. There was also an older sister, Elizabeth Ann, but she died of meningitis at the age of 18 months, and is buried in
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That was one side of the middle alley, and at number eight lived Mrs Smith. I only have vague memories of her but I do remember a lot of yellow daisies growing in her garden and being tempted to pick them. The Golding family lived at number nine with their son Len. When Len got married, he and his wife (I think she was called Joy), they lived in the front room of number nine, and I can remember saying to my mum that when I marry I want to live in the front room. Next came Mr and Mrs White and their daughter Margaret. Mrs White was very tidy and I can never remember going into Margaret's house to play. |
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The outside toilet was at the top of the garden, next to the barn where the coal was kept, and it was where you had to “go” in freezing winters and hot summers but it was always kept in pristine condition with a coat of whitewash every year.
The last house in the row is where Mr and Mrs White lived. It always made my sister and I laugh as we watched Mrs White going up the garden path to her outside toilet clutching sheets of cut up newspaper no Izal roll for her! |
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The top two houses looked down the street. At number fourteen Reg and Jess Pendered with their children Norma and John. John also joined in our play a lot. I think he was Ann’s cousin. The very last house, number fifteen was Mr and Mrs Farrow, sons Steven and David, and Mr Hulett (Mrs Farrow’s father), a very grumpy man, who used to get very cross when we were caught scrumping his gooseberries. These two houses backed onto the railway line, but we had no sense of danger from the steam trains as we often played on the railway banks, hiding if any rail workers came along, but we came to no harm.
The greatest source of pleasure came from playing in Bill Bailey’s scrap yard. Old cars, soldiers’ tin helmets, glass bottles with “marble” stoppers, and many more treasures to be found. I have a photo of me walking on a barrel in there. We used to take newspapers and rabbit skins to sell to Mr Bailey for a few pennies. Many a Cowboy and Indian fight took place in Bill Bailey’s scrap yard. Also memories of Joan Houghton delivering bread and leaving it on the kitchen table: no doors locked then, and Violet Groome delivering the milk in all weathers and money left on the kitchen table for Mr Ellingham the insurance man. Such were those days. Other memories of all the shops in Washbrook Road: Fitzjohn's, Dilley's, Groome's Marsden's, Mr George the photographer, Mrs Green selling ice lollies for a penny in her front room, Bill Sharpe on the corner of Spencer Road, all making a living selling the same goods. Then of course, Spencer Park with its putting green, sand pit, and paddling pool with lots of little red worms in the water, and the brook to jump across; no fencing then and all the fields beyond. Happy childhood days. Later we moved to |
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