weardale gazette when 13... · employment in the mining, quarying and steel foundry industries....

Issue 13 Dec.

2017

£1.50

PACKED FULL OF LOCAL PHOTOS AND ARTICLES

WEARDALE GAZETTE

Christmas at Horn Hall circa 1967

Remember When?

Wolsingham School Mid 50sSee page 11 for names...

L-R: Two cooks with man (unnamed), Joyce Boon, Claire (?) , Sister Cowan, Betty Raine, Maureen Dewart, Hazel Peart, Tom (?), Pat Readman,

With thanksto Pat Oliver

Let us take you on a journey back in time...

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PRESENTS

Let the Weardale Gazette take you on a journey back in time, as local people Remember When...

News from the Gazette officeGAZETTE STOCKISTS

The Weardale Gazette can be bought from the following retailers:l Heather Ross, Cowshilll Co-op, St. John's Chapel l Post Office, Rookhopel Grey Bull, Stanhopel Durham Dales Centre, Stanhopel Co-op, Stanhopel Paper Shop, Stanhopel Chip Shop, Frosterleyl Co-op, Frosterleyl Gardiners, Frosterleyl Convenience Store, Wolsinghaml Bradley Burn, Wolsinghaml Premier Store, Tow Lawl Helme Park Service Station, Tow Lawl Corner Shop, Billy Rowl Hope Street News, Crookl Blue Stone Tea Shop, Crookl Local Food and Wine, Crookl Helmington Row Service Stationl Sheldons, Willingtonl One Stop, Howden-le-Wearl Jet Garage, Howden-le-Wearl Asda, Bishop Aucklandl Evenwood Storesl Dun Cow, Witton-le-Wearl Fir Tree Service Stationl Duke of York, Fir Treel C.A. News, Middleton-in-Teesdale

If you are a retailer, and would like to stock the Gazette, please get in touch.

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l Newspaperl Magazinel Remember Whenl Calendar

To order yours, contact us on:Email: publicationdesign@ weardalegazette.co.uk Tel: (01388) 527706

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The Land ofThe Prince Bishops

Please contact us with your knowledge

We need your help

OUR PUBLICATIONS

Weardale Gazette Newspaper (out Wednesday fortnightly).

Remember When Nostalgic publication, full of old photos and memories. The publication is printed when full, so we cannot publish this without your help!PLEASE keep sending us your old photos(or call in and we'll scan them immediately.)

MagazinePreviously an annual publication, now published seasonal (March, June, Sept, Dec.)

Calendar 2018Previously out in October. From next year the calendar will be available from June, to meet sales demand from tourists and the local agricultural Shows.Full of stunning local landscape photography submitted by our readers.Please keep sending us your photograph entries for the 2019 calendar to:Email: [email protected]

CONTENT

History of theWeardale Gazette

Snippits

Building Quiz

Westgate

St John's Chapel

Now THATis snow!

White Wedding

Fir Tree

Harperley

Memories of Weardale

Swinhopeburn

Memories of yesteryear

Sport

Stanhope

Who remembers..

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Weardale Publishing & Printing Co. Ltd.6 Market Place, Stanhope, Weardale, Co. Durham. DL13 2UJTel/Fax: (01388) 527706www.weardalegazette.co.uk

Corrections and ClarificationsWE strive to ensure the articles published in the Remember When are truthful and accurate but in the event of an error, we will always correct or clarify any issues as soon as possible. We will publish these on this page if that becomes necessary. The Weardale Gazette abides by the Editors’ Code of Practice, administered by the Press Complaints Commission. If you have a complaint about anything published in this edition, please use the contacts on this page to let us know.

'Remember When' edited & designed by Lisa ParkinE: [email protected]

The history of the Weardale GazetteWhere it all beganA BRIEF HISTORY OF WEARDALE PUBLISHING AND PRINTNG COMPANY LIMITED

Weardalegazette

The portacabin at the cement works

Sheila Hogarthand Maureen Thomastaking shade from the sun

Peter BowesMaureen Thomas

Maureen and Sheila with Bob Trueman

Editor Anita Atkinson, joined the Gazette in March 1998

Christine Craig

Directors 2017 L-R Peter Bowes, Robert Marshall, Maureen Thomas, Paul Turton

Staff 2017 L-R: Dawn, Lisa and Angela

T he idea of producing a local community newspaper, The Weardale Gazette, was conceived during a meeting held in 1986 in Stanhope Town Hall.

The meeting had been arranged to consider how to create new jobs in Weardale in the light of declining employment in the mining, quarying and steel foundry industries.

Bill Holden, Robert Marshall, Peter Bowes became the first 'team', launching the Weardale Gazette. The group of volunteers duly got together and produced the first four-page edition of the Gazette, on a kitchen table, in 1987. The paper was produced monthly thereafter and initially distributed free of charge to most of the households in Weardale. In the first few years the newspapers were printed at Discovery Design & Print Ltd. in Cockfield. The pages from the printer were collated in the Church Hall in Stanhope and younsters were paid 1p/paper to carry out the work and then 2p per peper to deliver them. In the early years, printing and other costs were covered by donations and grants and a small amount of advertising revenue.

The Gazette found its first premises above what was then Broadley and Coulson's Estate Agents in the corner of the marketplace in Stanhope in 1988. Then a portacabin on the Eastgate Cement Works site was donated by Blue Circle in 1989 and became the Gazette's first permanent home. With a base to work from, the paper was able to grow and employ part-time employees.

Eventually, with the proposed closure of the Cement Works and deterioration of the portacabin, it became necessary to find new premises and the Gazette Office moved to an upstairs room in the Durham Dales Centre.

In 1998, No 6 Market Place became vacant and was put up for sale. The Directors of the Company offered loans to enable the Company to buy the premises and thus become secure in its own building, from where it has operated ever since.

From time to time the Gazette has been helped to succeed by various people and organisations throughout its 30 year history. Some of which are:l the original volunteers who started the Gazettel the Estate Agents, who allowed us use of their upstairs office in 1988l the Blue Circle Cement for donating the portacabin in 1989l the shareholders, who bought shares in 1992/93l the Directors, who made loans to the Company to purchase our premises in 1998l Mr J Stone who bought further shares in 2004l the shareholders who invested in the 'Rights Issue' in 2017l the staff who have toiled throughout our 30 year

In recent years:l Peter, Maureen, and Bob continue to be Directors, along with Paul Turton. l Sheila Hogarth dedicated 28 years as office manager, before retiring earlier this year. l Christine Craig, after 10 years at the Gazette, has decided to dedicate her time fully to her other business, Daisy Chain Florists. We wish them both all the best.

So 2017 saw a full staff turn around:l Lisa Parkin, who was appointed in 2015 as Advertising & Marketing, has now stepped into Sheila's shoes, and is Publication Designer, and editor for the Remember When, and [once annual/now seasonal] Magazine.l Dawn Emery is now Advertising & Marketing.l Angela Turnbull is now Finance Administrator.

What next?We will continue to be a service to the public of Weardale and surrounding areas, and strive to meet the demand

of customers old and new.

By Robert Marshall

We need yourold photos

and memories!

We print this nostaligic edition when it is full of yourphotos & memoriesso please keep them

coming in!

Call into the officeor email them to:

[email protected]

We need your help! - Share your old photos and stories! - See page 2 for details!

If the walls could talk - Building QuizLOOK UP IN & AROUND THE DALE Recognise any of these fabulous buildings? Everyone seems to walk around looking down these days, at their mobile phones, etc. It's time we changed that, and appreciated what we see when we look up!

Snippits...

Cartoons throughout paper were published in the Weardale Gazette's Millennium calendar...

By Alan Mayes & Vic Rhodes

Remember when...The baby linen shop (which became Archibalds) was opposite the old town toilets in Stanhope, which are where the Durham Dales Centre now stands? My mother and I used to love popping into that shop!

Mrs Richardson,lived in Stanhope appox 80 years ago

(now living in Wickham)

Remember when...Bargain Booze in Crook used to be the Electric Shop in the 70s. I remember walking down a long shop with my mam, with washing machines down the middle right to the back of the shop.

Lisa Parkin, Crook

Remember when...R&S Fireplaces in Commercial Street, Crook,used to be The Continental? The owners were the Moscidini family.I worked there in 1957 as a waitress, serving - amongst other things - banana splits, parfaits (tall glasses layered with fruit, cream, ice cream & nuts) and frothy coffees.

Valerie Phillipson (nee Leighton), Crook

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Answers on page 13...

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FACT'Wolsingham' meansWulfsige's people

by Jean Bowes

COMING SOON

The Land of the Prince BishopsHistory of events

Want to share your knowledge? Contact us!

Valerie


Of Cuts and Losses By E & J Spooner

In December 1997, we moved to Westgate and as a family we have thoroughly enjoyed living here and partaking in Dales life. But there certainly has been a lot of changes during those twenty years. We have listed some, they are in no particular order, just what we remembered. I’m sure your readers will be able to add some more.

1. The loss of the shop and post office at Westgate. 2. Bin collection fortnightly instead of weekly. 3. The closure of the Cement Works at Eastgate. 4. The demise of Wear Valley District Council. 5. The closure of Newtown House, Care Home, Stanhope. 6. The closure of the ford at Stanhope. 7. The closure of the Town Hall at Stanhope. 8. The loss of the green bin collection service beyond Eastgate. 9. No bus service on a Sunday or a Bank Holiday. 10. The closure of the Dispensing Service at St John’s Chapel Surgery.

What will happen in the next twenty years we wonder?

*Like Ed and Jenny, we agree that our readers could add to this list, to include churches, for instance and Wolsingham steelworks.

If you have any to add, including your own views, please write to us – contact details on page 2.

Westgate Bus Trip

1952L-R:

Phoebe Bostock, Mrs Glass,

Dora Emerson, (?) Goland,

Mary Lambert, Mamie Readman,

Ellen Littlefair, Mrs Dixon

Front row: Doris Marsh,

Pat Dixon (Readman) age 4 years, Eric Lambert

How we were at St John's Chapel

How we were at Westgate

A group of handlers showing retrievers

John Hogg from Frosterley with his winning goat

Chapel Show mare and foal shown by J W Ward

Chapel Show 1936 Photos from Anita Atkinson


March 1979 With thanks to Ray Snaith for the following photos

Raymond Snaith and Peter Boynes at the Stepping Stones, St. John's Chapel

Left:Weardale waterfall by Ernest Heal

Now THAT is SNOW!

March snowstorms of yester year - Stranger than fiction

One hundred years ago how did the people of The Northern Pennines, without the benefit of modern snow shifting equipment, manage to cope with such conditions? The following remarkable events tell their story.

In 1903 The Vielle Montagne Zinc Company introduced foreign workers (mainly Italians) into the mines of Nenthead and Allendale. In that year there were several disturbances between these miners and local people. This culminated in a riot in October 1905, when police detachments were drafted in from Penrith, Carlisle and Brampton. The first account involved one of these Italian

miners and his most unusual funeral. In March 1908 at 12.30 a.m. Pietro Rolando was found in a kneeling position at Carr Shield apparently overcome by the freezing cold. He was taken to “Barney Crags Barracks”, but he never recovered and died later that morning. The following news item was published in The Hexham Herald on 28th March 1908: “The unfortunate Italian miner, who died from exposure in West Allendale during the recent snow storms had a unique funeral. Owing to the depth of snow, the road from Carr Shield to Nenthead was impassable. The coffin, which was made at Nenthead was conveyed underground to Carr Shield. The snow drifts persisted and in the same way the body and the cortege were taken down the shaft and through the mine workings all the way to Nenthead where the internment took place.” Almost a decade later a similar and equally remarkable story unfolded,which again showed how local people rallied together to overcome the elements.On Thursday 2nd March 1916 Thomas Parker Liddell from Ropehaugh was severely injured by a falling stone at The Barney Crag mine in West Allendale. Taken to the doctor in Nenthead he unfortunately developed pneumonia and died on Wednesday 8th March 1916. As in the above event a series of snow storms and high winds meant that horse transport between Nenthead and Allendale was impossible. Miners had remembered the previous incident, but there was no longer any inter-connection between the mine workings. What could be done? The contemporary newspaper report, set out below, tells how the body was returned to his grieving widow for interment at Allenheads. “The Nenthead men at once took it upon themselves the task of conveying the remains over that difficult road, under the shadow of Killhope Law. As soon as it was known that this was to be done the Allendale men entered into the spirit of their Nenthead comrades. They decided to meet them on the way. After a short service, conducted by the Wesleyan Minister, the procession started from Nenthead at 9.30 in the morning. Fifty men took part. The larger number walking in advance in rank of four abreast making a beaten track. The rest following dragging the coffin on a strong sledge specially made for the purpose. As early as 8 o’clock a similar number of men set out from Allendale and the two parties met at Coalcleugh. The united party of 100 men joining forces till the highest point of the journey had been reached, when the Nenthead men returned home. The snow storm had continued for so long and on that Sunday morning renewed its severity, but to these men the storm had no terrors and their determined spirit paid no heed to the enormous difficulties, except to overcome them. They reached the end of their difficult journey much sooner than was expected and, that which to so many had seemed impossible, had been safely accomplished.” Unfortunately that wasn’t the end of this remarkable story. The saga continued when at the Interment ceremony it was realised that Andrew Bryce of Ropehaugh, who had been in the Allendale group of miners was missing! A search was carried out across the fells, but no trace of the missing man could be found. Fortunately Bryce, realising he was lost, took shelter in Snodberry Wood on the Weardale side of Kilhope. At daylight on Monday morning he found his way to Gold Hill Farm, where he found warmth and safety.The following letter was published in the Hexham Herald on 25th March 1916:Sir, Will you permit me to ask the men who assisted in the search for me on the 12th and 13th inst. to kindly accept the thanks of my wife and myself and also the women for the sympathy and help show to my wife during my 22 hours of terrible experience on the fells. Also to the older men of the dales, who had the will but not the power to join any of the search parties. We also thank Mr. and Mrs. John Vickers Peart of Gold Hill Farm, Weardale for their kindness and the nourishment given to me on arriving at their house and to Mr. Peart for showing me the way home. Yours sincerely, Andrew & Ruth Bryce

20th March 1916

Nurse Snaith on the road between Sedling and Cowshill

Road between Cowshill and Allenheads

Nurse Snaith on the road between Cowshill and Allenheads with her children,

Kathleen and Raymond

Nurse Snaith (right) with her Mam and Dad on Cowshilll to Allenheads road

Ray Snaith clearing snow into garage

Heather Snaith just outside backdoor

L-R: David Currah, Carol Porter, Donna Walton, Garry Rowelland perhaps Tina Walton (?) at the front

1979 With thanks to John Lee

The Disappearing Mills and Bread Ovens of Weardale

By Christine Ruskin

Published in 2017 By Christine Ruskin. 103 pages.

BOOK REVIEW: Carol InskippIn this fascinating book Chris describes the working corn mills and bread ovens which were once a characteristic feature of life in Weardale. Chris is to be congratulated on the highly interesting layout which she has personally achieved for each page in her book. This is the same format as Chris used in her highly successful earlier book, “The Disappearing Farms of Weardale”, which sold out quickly after publication. Each parish has colour coded pages preceded by a map showing the distribution of mills and ovens. While compiling material for her Weardale farms book, she discovered, by chance, bread ovens. Since then she has made great efforts to find as many of Weardale’s remaining bread ovens as possible, and located 45 of them. Chris also found 16 of the now redundant corn mills that supplied flour for the bread ovens. Chris gives full details of the location and history of mills and bread ovens, including intriguing old maps. The book gives a good description of how these old ovens operated. There is a wealth of old photographs, as well as those Chris has personally taken during her research. However, this book is far more than a catalogue of the history of Weardale’s mills and bread ovens. During her research, Chris has discovered numerous interesting anecdotes and photographs including family portraits, which enliven every page of text and illuminate what life in Weardale must have been like during the 17th and 18th centuries. “The Disappearing Mills and Bread Ovens of Weardale” is a must-have for anyone with an interest in Weardale.It retails at £12.99 and is available from the Weardale Gazette Office and the following outlets: Bradley Burn Café, No. 10 Café, Wolsingham, Gardiners Country Store, Frosterley, Black Bull Frosterley, Weardale Motor Services, Stanhope, The Hub Stanhope, Dales Centre Stanhope, Stanhope Hall Hotel, Chatterbox Café St John’s Chapel, Cowshill Village Hall, and Bowlees Visitor Centre, Teesdale.


WHITE WEDDING By Anita Atkinson

OU are invited to a wedding – the true story of a wedding, a white one in every sense; a trip back in time, down memory lane. Let’s go back to the 70s... To flared trousers, curly perms, The Bay City Rollers, long, hot summers and very hard winters.

It was Thursday 15th March 1979. I was employed as a Fire Control Operator with Durham County Fire Brigade as it was called in those days, based at Fire Brigade HQ in Framwelgate Moor. I returned home from my last nightshift as a single girl and ready to make last minute preparations for my wedding, the wedding I had been planning for the best part of a year. But first I needed to sleep.

“The weather forecast isn’t good for the weekend,” my mother commented as I climbed the stairs to bed. I was tired, excited for the weekend ahead as well as a little nervous. It won’t be easy to say my vows in front of 170 guests at the front of the church. The last thing I was bothered about was a bit of rain. So off I went to bed and didn’t surface until tea-time. It was almost dark but I popped over to Harperley to see my future husband, John, and check that all was going well at his end.

The next morning, I went off into Crook to collect my wedding cakes – all iced by a very clever friend who had managed to create three tiers in the shape of the Imperial State Crown. This was going to be a ‘Royal’ wedding with the four bridesmaids in red, white and blue – as well as the royal-themed cake. Those who know me won’t be at all surprised at this – I have always been a Monarchist and HM was at the centre of my wedding day.

It had started to snow around lunch-time but it had been quite a hard winter and Mother Nature didn’t appear to be finished yet. It was March, the snow wouldn’t lie – the threatened rain would wash it away. I remained absolutely unconcerned.

The snow was still falling at tea-time when my dad and I set off in his Austin Allegro to head for Darlington Railway Station to pick up my friend, Christine, who was to be my chief bridesmaid. She lived in Crook but had been away on an exotic holiday. The roads were dreadful, the late winter snow had caught everyone by surprise and the roads we used hadn’t been gritted. We had a minor accident on the way there, which resulted in a bump to one of the rear doors. And on the way back, trying to edge our way up Busty Bank, Shildon, a car coming the other way, tried to slow down, slid across the road and bumped the other rear passenger door. We eventually made it back only to find neither back doors would open and Christine had to climb into the front seat to alight!

The next job was to take the wedding cakes down the reception venue – the Elite Hall ready for the next day.

I had hired the posh three-tier cake stand from Potts’ Newsagent’s in Crook’s Hope Street.

It was the epitome of cake stands and came complete with a very long silver knife. No expense spared for this wedding! These were put into the boot of the car and the tiny rear seats prepared for the three cakes. The middle tier was first. I carried it with both hands, stepped out of the front door, slipped on the ice beneath the snow and dropped it. CRASH! The carefully prepared icing was in slivers slewn across the snow – and very difficult to tell it from the white stuff, not that it was retrievable in any event! Oh well.

I slunk back inside to tell my mother. “If that’s the worst that can happen on your wedding day, it’ll be fine,” she said and that raised my spirits. At least it will be something to laugh about in years to come. And off I went to get the top tier and this time took it more carefully, managing to reach the back seat in one piece. Then I went in for the smallest tier – and absent-mindedly did exactly the same thing as I had with the first! CRASH! Oh well... and off I drove to the Elite where the hall was all set out for the following day. 170 chairs, tables, the top table – crockery, cutlery and two very long tables to cater for a buffet – a very large buffet. The champagne was there too with the glasses shining. Satisfied, I returned home

I decided to drive over to Harperley in my MGB Roadstar. Yes, I knew the state of the roads but that little sports car was built like a tank and it NEVER got stuck in the snow …until that night! I had to knock on the door of a house in High West Road, Crook and ask to use the ‘phone to call my dad who instantly came to my rescue. Even so, I was still not perturbed about the following day, not even when I learned my future husband had gone out with his friends, one of whom was his Best Man (Maurice Thompson) to rescue another friend who had become stuck in the snow. Meanwhile, my sister, Maisie, was travelling back home from sunny Essex, where she lived, along with her two young daughters – one of whom was to be a bridesmaid – and her

husband. The journey went to plan until they reached the outskirts of County Durham when they found driving difficult, even on the motorway, due to the severe weather. They managed to make it almost to West Auckland when their car became hopelessly stuck in a drift. They decided to brave the storm – Maisie was brought up in Tow Law, she wasn’t afraid of a bit of snow, she knew what she was doing – and attempted to walk for help.

But the snowstorm had other ideas, the snow was relentless, the blizzarding snowflakes stuck their cheeks and just as they were becoming exhausted, a Landrover stopped and hauled them all inside. He didn’t want to try and drive them all the way home, it was too risky so he dropped them at the hotel on Bildershaw Bank. They were there until the Monday! Little did any of us know that John and his friends, pushing and pulling their car through the drifts, had passed by the hotel in their struggle back home.

Over in Middlestone Moor, one of my brothers – Joe – had been commandeered by the Police to drive a snow-cutting machine between Spennymoor and the hospital in Bishop Auckland to cater for the many emergencies adverse weather can cause. For over 24 hours, he drove backwards and forwards, the road filling in behind him as soon as he cleared it. Back home and stranded indoors was his wife and two children.

My aunt, who had arrived a few days earlier from her home on the south coast, had been visited by the doctor while I slept and he diagnosed Pneumonia. That was one guest down as she resigned herself to a few days in bed and to missing the wedding she was so looking forward to.

And still I had little worries that tomorrow would be fine, the rain would come, all would be well.

The morning dawned and before I have even got out of bed, the telephone was ringing. My mother shouted for me – I got up and looked out of the window. Whiteness – an utter and complete white-out. All I could see of my MGB was the radio aerial as if it was hovering in mid-air. Nothing moved outside apart from the constant fluttering of snowflakes, not even the birds ventured from their nests. Nothing..no-one. It was eerie. My mother’s shouting interrupted any thoughts I may have about how the day would pan out - another phone call.

“No-one can get here, the roads are closed,” she screamed almost hysterically. “It can’t be that bad,” I thought. Why did she always have to make a mountain out of a mole hill? My dad was already outside trying to recover my car from the drift as I answered yet another call. A call from my brother’s friend who had agreed to act as chauffeur driving said brother’s vintage Daimler was the first sense that perhaps my mother was right, maybe this just might be an utter disaster. He told me that the car was well and truly stuck in his garage – the up-and-over door would not open due to the huge volume of snow up against it. So, the race was on to uncover the MGB as a wedding car. It only had two seats but was good – usually – in the snow.

The MGB, however, refused to start. It had never refused to start! I had it for 18 months and it had never let me down, I looked skywards, the snow refusing to stop falling, and wondered if someone up there was trying to tell me something? It was too late now, the show must go on. My mother was yelling again for me to answer another call and for the next hour or so, that’s all I did.

Friends, family all calling to say they were stuck -there were no roads open, public transport had ground

to a standstill, no taxis dared venture out. One uncle – a policeman – even tried to hire a helicopter but they were all commandeered and were busy dropping hay to stranded animals on the fells or whisking poorly people off to hospital. My wedding, in the great scheme of things, had little consequence for others not involved.

The neighbours were out in force, armed with anything that would help clear the road, helping dad dig the Allegro out. It may have been battered and bruised but it was all we had left to transport folk to the church. Unbeknown to me, my future husband, his Best Man, ushers and two of his six sisters were battling the elements, walking from Harperley to Crook – carrying the bouquets and buttonholes which had been left at their home the night before by florists who didn’t fancy their chances the following day of travelling to Crook.

John and the crew could easily have been scaling Everest, such was the ferocity of the weather, howling winds blew the snow into huge drifts at the top of Pea Hill. They really wanted to just lie down and die but egged each other on to continue.

The blizzard stung their faces, they couldn’t feel their hands or feet, their legs ached stamping through the drifts.

The girls arrived stiff as boards, frozen to the core while the men tramped on into the town where they knocked on the door of The Sun Inn, run by friends who allowed them all in, warmed them up with hot drinks and let them change into their wedding suits. All the while, the telephone continued to ring. There was no long, leisurely bath for the bride as she continued to try and dig out the road along with her neighbours – dressed in a big coat and wellies and armed with a huge shovel.

YAnita, 18 years oldand just joined the Fire Brigade

L-RWedding cake

The weddingmade head-line news


It then occurred to me that I needed to make sure all the main players were going to be in attendance so I called the vicar – yes he was walking there and setting off soon. Minister – check. The photographer, who lived in Wolsingham, was incredulous that I had called. How did I expect him to get to Crook? He couldn’t even get out of his own drive, never mind try to scale Harperley Banks. Photographer – absent. Chauffeur present but no car. Flowers – far too many as it turned out – twice as many buttonholes as guests at a wild guess. Bridesmaids – three instead of four but I could manage with three. Reception? A few phone calls confirmed that everything was in place – a few ham shanks had hit the deck with the slipping and sliding about but by this point, I couldn’t have cared less if they had fallen down a drain. Ham shanks were the least of my worries!

In Crook town itself, not a shop was open, not a road either but they were passable with extra care. Hardly a vehicle, not a person in sight – except for a teenage guest, Les Scott, who had taken it upon himself to clear a pathway to the church from the footpath. My dad’s car came in sight – filmed on cine camera by the Chief Bridesmaid’s sister, Judith, braving the storm – to deposit my brother, Jim, who had walked from Sunnybrow, leaving his wife and young daughter inside the safety of the house, and my mother. She was tight-lipped and wearing my aunt’s wedding outfit because her own was stranded in my sister’s car in West Auckland! Luckily they were the same size.

Dad came back for the bridesmaids who had to climb into the back seat over the front one – very undignified. Guests began to arrive – all on foot – with one couple managing to walk from Howden-le-Wear! In total they numbered around 30 – an incredible 140 guests couldn’t make it. Not that I knew it at the time.

I was left alone with my poorly aunt until dad made his third hazardous journey back home. But he’d seen worse, he was a bus driver for years – in Tow Law – he had a pedigree! He made it and returned with my brother too – that’s it then, nothing for it but for me to launch myself over the front seat and into the back. As I sat there, on that slow drive to married life, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing – nothing, nothing at all but snow. I had imagined arriving in Crook with the Saturday shoppers all pausing from their weekly shopping task to watch as I alighted the vintage Daimler and was walked proudly into church by my dad who would have been with me in the rear seat, reassuring me and supporting me on my last journey as his little girl.

No such thing happened with dad swearing as the car slipped about the roads, the paths, the town was empty – like a ghost town. Oh well…what was that my mam said? “If that’s all that can go wrong…”

We arrived and were met by Rev Tibbo whose cassock, I noticed, was wet up to his thighs. He led us through the back door and into the vestry and we stood at the back of the church waiting for him to get down to the front. It was mostly empty but those who had managed to brave the weather, including some Fire Brigade friends who had miraculously made it from Durham and Brancepeth, turned to watch me and my dad walk down the aisle followed by the frozen bridesmaids.

The aisle was full of puddles of water and I giggled when I caught sight of one guest dressed in a diving suit but mostly, wellies and waterproofs were the order of the day. In fact instead of dreamily raising my veil and looking into the eyes of my almost husband when I reached his side, I became convulsed with giggles at the sheer ridiculousness of it. Rev Tibbo lifted both arms aloft and gazed up towards the ceiling. He raised his voice, saying… ‘The Good Lord has sent this as a warning to the troubled peoples of Northern Ireland…’

I giggled. The cold has got to his brain. It wasn’t until later, I realised it was St Patrick’s Day and the vicar had been praying for the ‘troubles’ that had blighted the lives of so many on mainland Britain for years, to end.

‘Who gives this woman?’ Dad was a little too quick to do that bit but maybe he’d just had enough of that day already. The ceremony over, no photographer so it didn’t take long after that and we were stood in the arched doorway, squinting at the snow, which was still blizzarding horizontally. It wasn’t far to the Elite hall but the sandals I was wearing were more suited to the beach on a hot day – and with no grips! Somehow we all made it into the warmth of the upstairs hall but even when everyone and his dog managed the stairs, there were more empty tables than filled ones. Our voices echoed in the emptiness. The council waitresses looked at us with sympathy in their eyes. The floor began to fill with puddles of water as the snow from willies, boots –and sandals –began to melt.

Champagne was so plentiful that guests eagerly downed it – straight out of the bottle – and the buffet would have fed those there for a month or more. Maurice decided he didn’t want to do a Best Man’s speech so my brother did it for him. There was no music, just the chatter of the guests telling each other their ‘get to the church on time in a blizzard’ stories. It wasn’t much of a reception – most of my new husband’s family was stuck on the farm at home where the drifts were so high, not even the tractors were moving. His parents, five more siblings and families were all trapped indoors but at least they had a good time playing happy families! Most of my family was holding their own celebrations in the nearest pubs and clubs to their respective houses, drinking toasts all around the region. And my sister spent the whole day crying in a strange hotel just a few miles away – it may well have been the other side of the world with no chance of getting home that day. When she did manage to return to Essex, her friends excitedly called her, asking how the wedding had gone. In Essex – and every other part of the country that weekend – it had been fair with no snow at all. They listened in unbelievable shock to hear her story. The local state of

Photo of Anita's mam, Annie,born in 1915, I think she was about

18 here so - around 1933 in Roddymoor, High RowAnita with her dad, Joe Pinkney

emergency declared by Durham County Council had not even registered on the national news! The belt of atrocious weather had been isolated in the north east and Cumbria.

It became apparent that we had to do something about the 140 portions of buffet that no-one could eat and a plan was formed to take it all – in plastic bags – to my brother-in-law’s house on Watergate Estate. He had an empty chest freezer and five kids to feed. Great plan. But the estate was inaccessible to vehicles and so he and my dad had to carry 140 chicken legs, egg and ham pies, cream cakes etc etc the whole length of the estate. It was only when they realized they were being followed by a pack of dogs that they saw the bags were breaking open as they slid them over the icy conditions in almost waist-deep frozen snow! Not much of the buffet survived but it still filled the chest freezer.

Most people returned to my parents’ home where my aunt was still bed bound and fending for herself. The phone had been ringing all day, she said. Our thoughts turned to the carefully planned expensive honeymoon – in the posh honeymoon suite in the County Hotel, Durham – the ‘in’ place of the day. Dad called Police to ask what the possibility was of us making it there that night. The answer was simple – none! There was a huge snowdrift at Helmington Row and no sign of it being removed any time soon. The emergency services were stretched to the limit, a honeymoon could wait. We had heard the local news, people were stranded in Durham City – no trains, no buses, no cars – nowhere to stay. I called the County Hotel and told them our predicament but there would be no refund we were told. In that case, I said, let one of those stranded families have our honeymoon suite and put it to good use.

And so the celebrations went on in the house with a barrel of sherry and more chicken legs and salmon sandwiches. Mam playing the piano and then as the night wore on, busying herself by constructing makeshift beds for those who couldn’t possibly try to get home when the phone rang – again. It was the local Police – the road was open now and if we went in the Allegro, which was a high off-the-road car, put our foot down and didn’t stop for anything, we might just make it to Durham. We took the chance and surprisingly although not passing a single car on the road, we made into Durham City and to out hotel.

We hadn’t thought to call them and when we got there, there was no room at the inn – the suite had been booked out! A sympathetic receptionist found us a staff room and we made the best of it. But then an hour into the evening, John developed a raging toothache, which necessitated a trip back to reception and with confetti still in my hair, I asked for two aspirins. The look on the receptionist’s face was a picture as she looked incredulously at me – a headache on your wedding night? I beat a hasty retreat but enough to say there was no sleep for us that night for other reasons than you may expect!

The next day dawned bright and sunny, the snow still lay in huge drifts all around but at least it had stopped. The day before hadn’t been a nightmare, it had really happened – the moral being what Shakespeare described as the ‘best laid plans..’. He was right! What was I going to do with 140 little matchbooks with our names and the date of our wedding on them? (I still have a few if anyone collects them?)

At least it is one wedding none of our family or friends will ever forget. I consoled myself with that thought and promptly started to organise another reception in my head – we still had the cake, the booze, the buffet. And so it happened, most of the remaining guests were able to make the following week in the Elite Hall where we did it all again and would live happily ever after. But I didn’t bank on the photographer.

Despite the whole wedding being completely and utterly ruined, he chose to sue us for loss of income, through the County Court. We defended it but made the mistake of hiring a solicitor when really we knew the story better than anyone and should have told it to the judge ourselves. As it happened, the solicitor who turned up had no idea what that story was, we lost the case and had to pay up a total of £150 – equal to five weeks wages in those days. Fundamentally, we got married, the photographer didn’t turn up – we lost £150 and didn’t have a photo. Justice? Certainly not. But all’s well that ends well – as Shakespeare also said – and almost 40 years later, we are still married, still having disasters and laughing in the face of them. Three children, three grandchildren, to add to the laughter and purpose in everyday life.

Life is for living, for making memories and enjoying yourself, for taking every opportunity, enjoying and learning from them – and we still are.

Roll on the winter, do your worst, you can’t hurt us now!…

Headline news!


How we were at Fir Tree

Vivie sitting in the same place, August 2017,

The Fir Tree garage is on the left in the background

Matty (third left) with friends

L-R: Geoffrey Weatherall, John Taylor, Matty Horn, Austin Gibson, Roy Buckle, Jackson Gibson (Austin’s brother), Austin and Jackson’s dog

Matty says, “The ‘old Foden’ wagon in the background may be one of Anthony Todd’s. We used to drive coke down to foundarys in North Yorkshire in them.”

Matty worked as lorry driver for Hobson's, WolsinghamHe drove many a <Foden and Leyland> lorry for the carnivals in the late 70s / early 80s.

atthew Horn talks about his Weardale links to grand-daughter, Vivie.Matthew (or Matty as he is more commonly known, thankfully, as this story may become confusing with his dad having the same name), was born in Fir Tree, July 1941. His father, Matthew Cowie Horn, worked as a vehicle trader in the late 1950s and had a scrap yard next to M

By daughter, Lisa Parkin

Right: Matty with grand-daughter Vivie

Below: Aged 14-15 with his one-eyed horse, Nelson

Left: Matty, left, with Brian Whitfield and ex-gun dog, Rex, who was know for carrying buckets of water to the horses. They also had chickens and Rex would carry an egg in his mouth without breaking it.

the Fir Tree Inn. The cars that weren't scrapped were placed at the front to sell. Matty laughs, “The Fir Tree Inn was almost like dad’s office, as he’d take people in there to discuss business. " Matty remembers the coach and horse house which was joined to the Fir Tree Inn.

After that, Matthew was a driver for Anthony Todd’s Haulage, which was situated near The Bay Horse in Wolsingham. It was around 1965/6 when Matty joined his dad at the same company.

From 1967/8 Matty worked as a long distance lorry driver for Hobsons, Wolsingham, mainly leading out of Blairs Foundaries at Tow Law and Stanhope.Matty's youngest daughter, Lisa, remembers going along to Hobson's with her dad. “I remember playing on the huge stone heaps, the smell of engine oil and the patterns it made in the huge puddles, and seeing the huge pit in the ground where the lorry would drive over for engineers to fix underneath.

“We also had an Austin 7, an Austin 12, and a Rover 2000, and frequently attended Vintage Rallies - so the smell of engine oil still takes me back to childhood memories!”

Matty's mother, Molly, worked as a cleaner at the school. Molly was deaf from the age of four caused by German Measles, and was a wonderful lip reader. *She was an inspirational woman and the reason I learned sign language ~ Lisa.

Matthew drove the Prisoners of War (which Matty remembers were mainly Italian, although some German) to labour on local farms, where they helped out as 'our' men were out fighting at war. He says, "The only thing they weren't allowed to do, obviously, was make ammunition, or anything to hurt the English."

Matty's sister, Pearl's school photo: 1) John Hodgson 2) Peal Horn 3) Audrey Weatherall 4) Audrey Dent 5) Marjory Jones 6) Sandra Hauxwell7) Edward (Ted) Hauxwell 8) Joan Perry 9) Barney Sharples10) Joseph Staples 11) Raymond Sayers 12) Brian Copping13) Kenneth Armstrong

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Vivie in front of the Fir Tree Inn, August 2017

Vivie's great-grandparents (centre) with their daughters

Pearl (left) and Margaret (right)with the Fir Tree Inn in the

background and Bradley’s shop on the left

Molly and Matthew posing for a photo with Arnold Winship’s Allard car

Left:A wooden ornament Matthew

asked one of thePOW's to make

for his wife Molly

The Prisoners of War made lots of wooden toys, such as monkeys climbing a ladder, and another toy which was shaped like a table tennis bat with strings and a ball underneath, and when it was swung in a circle it made the four hens on the top peck downwards (pictured below). They also made coats from blankets to sell in Fir Tree village.

Why not pop into the Fir Tree Inn to view the many amazing old photos displayed on their walls. (Perhaps grab a drink and a meal while in there, too!)


Now and then... Weardale

Harperley Hallremembered

HARPERLEY Hall, a former mansion, handed over to Durham Constabulary in 1947, is still concerned with training police officers to this day. Although more security - and secrecy - now surrounds it from necessity due to the terrorism aspect of our lives these days, in the past it was a big part of the community. The hall, apart from being the police training school for the county, which was much bigger then and included such places as Gateshead, Hartlepool and Stockton-on-Tees, it was also home to the dogs section and the Mounted Police. both the latter would come out in the local community with the dog section a popular attraction at the agricultural shows and the Police Horses often to be seen wandering around our villages. One of our photographs shows the very first Mounted Policewoman in the country - Rita Browning was stationed at Harperley Hall. So unusual was this that she made national headlines. How times change...

Land army girls at work in Weardale

Harperley Hall: Britain's first mounted policewoman Rita Browning in 1963Harperley Hall police dog handlers from the early 1960s

To find out more, visit us on

Facebook Twitter Or call 07564 196 019

“Thanks to the people of Weardale for all your support”- Best Wishes from Weardale Cheese

Weardale Cheese is available from: Alston Wholefoods

Bradley Burn Farm ShopChatterbox Cafe, St. John's Chapel

Woodhalls at Wolsingham and StanhopeStanhope Farmers Market


Memories of WeardaleBy George Ford

eorge contacted the Gazette offering to write his memories of times spent in the family holiday cottage in the late 50s/early 60s in the upper Dale. The following is the first in what we hope to be a series:

‘IT was in the mid 50’s that I made my first visit to Weardale. We were one of a number of Sunderland families that headed towards the source of the River Wear for their summer holiday. My paternal great aunt Celine ran what was then the Ireshopeburn post office and my parents rented a cottage opposite. The next year relatives on my mother’s side recommended a cottage at Black Dene. We visited but instead chose a Cowshill cottage. The following year we stayed at a cottage in Westgate, close to the entrance to Slit Woods. It was during this time that my parents decided to buy their own holiday home. There was no doubt, that as a family, we agreed Weardale was where we wanted to be whenever there was an opportunity. Stonedrass, on the road up to Burnhope Reservoir, was made up of three cottages. Two were owned by a Mr Myers and the third by the Walton family. When my father heard the Myers cottage was for sale the necessary arrangements were made and he purchased the middle cottage for £200 in 1959, he was offered both for £300 but £25 deposit sealed the deal for one. By the end of the 50s we had already stayed at what we called, with our

and two sisters for nearly thirty years. Enid Blyton, wrote about the wonders of the British countryside in her book ‘The Children of Cherry Tree Farm’ in 1940 and the numerous adventures of what would become the famous five. Throughout the 60s and early 70s we had adventures in Weardale to match. What a fantastic, never to be forgotten, family experience. Very soon the field in front of the cottages became Wembley Stadium, Lords Cricket ground or just a space to invent and make believe for a group of primary school-aged children. The Burnhope Burn that overflowed from the reservoir and down to the confluence that was the source of the River Wear saw night lines set to catch trout, the filter beds were out of bounds but the nearby quarry provided plenty of climbing opportunities. In those days the land adjoining the ruins of the Weardale railway was another spot for exploration – raspberries and gooseberries in abundance! We have cine films of the whole area (including our own silent comedies that Laurel and Hardy would be proud of) and many photographs. My geography dissertation at college in the early 70s was all about the lead mining history of the dales. Most of all are the memories the seven of us have – happy ones such as meeting up with the Walton family – Willie, Jenny, Robert and Suzanne who lived in the cottage next door and moved on to manage Blackcleugh Farm in Wearhead, the help we received

Paul and Stephen Ford with Suzanne and Robert Walton on the gate outside 'Stonedress'G

Sunderland accents, Stonedress Cottage. It became a second home for me and my two brothers

Names from Alec Lister, who says, "Several people have said 51 is Pamela Maguire. Also, where is Judy Watt?" - What do you think? If you know of any, please contact us!

Wolsingham School - names for front page photo

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1 Unknown male2 David Parkin3 Alec Lister4 Jack Parvin5 Les Craggs6 John Burn7 Arthur Stephenson8 Philip Turnbull

9 Unknown male10 Peter Dyson11 Alan Stephenson12 Marie Broderick13 Kenny Gale14 Unknown female15 Charles Armstrong 16 Unknown male

17 Pauline Humble18 Unknown female 19 Robbie Rowe20 Kathleen Simpson21 Janet Gardner22 Marie Hall23 Elizabeth Gardiner24 Margaret Gardner

25 Dorothy Hawkins26 Freda Turner27 Unknown female28 Ian Gardner29 Ashley Bell30 Aileen Bainbridge31 Unknown female32 Dennis Bailey

33 Valerie Ward34 Edith Bowman35 Jean Dyson36 Pat Watson37 Enid Garaway38 Unknown female39 Valerie Smith40 Unknown male

41 Hazel Johnson42 Sandra Boast43 Christine Marshall44 Kay Shuttleworth45 Marjorie Hawkins46 Barbara Love47 Harry Shuttleworth48 Dorothy Ward

49 Isobel Morrison50 Barbara Scorer51 Unknown female 52 Chris Hawkins53 Walter Davison54 Jean Hesp55 Pamela Hutchinson56 Les Mabett57 Alan Smith

from Tommy Thompson (the calor gas man recently pictured in the Weardale Gazette at the bar of the Cowshill hotel). Sad memories like the explosion that killed the farmer next door, who we knew as Harold, and the connection we had with the publican called Fred who was managing the second pub in Cowshill when it burned down. Most of all there are the humorous memories – such as the origins of the Sunday lunch aroma during evening service at the chapel that now houses the Weardale Museum. There are enough stories to fill a few Gazettes and in turn probably stir a few more memories for people, not least my brothers and sisters who are all still regular visitors to Weardale.’


By Joseph Norman Kidd

y grandfather, Joseph Kidd, was a leadminer and smallholder with his wife, Ann, and their seven children, six boys – Harry, Thomas, Nathan,

Fredrick, Joseph and Alfred – and one girl, Sarah. Swinhopeburn in those days was a small community, the people lived in this beautiful little hamlet without any of the modern facilities of today such as running pipe water, electricity, flushing toilets or electricity to light their homes. Cooking was by fire, heating the oven and water – the oven on the right, water on the left of the fireplace. In Weardale, great pride was taken in polishing the hinges and handles on the range with the rest black-leaded. Lands Farm comes to mind, in the days of the Emerson family who took pride even in the cowshed, which was whitewashed and washed down each time after milking. Today, Swinhopeburn is very different in its scenery. The old stone bridge has been replaced by a metal one leading to Stone Carrs; the original, beautiful waterfall was blown up to recover the stone and the pool, which you never passed without seeing trout lazing and darting about in the clear Swinhopeburn waters. The picture (illustrated) is from Peter Bowes’ Picturesque Weardale Revisited’. The Kidd farm has disappeared without trace, unless their farm shown here was later occupied by the Featherstone family. The Church of England, who owned the mineral rights, decided to abandon leadmining, leaving thousands without any work and the phrase, ‘get on yer bike’ started all those years ago. Grandad Kidd realized it was no use staying in Westgate with a large family and no jobs so he decided to leave for Stockton-on-Tees where his sons would find varying careers. Joseph, my father, remembered taking the milk and eggs into Westgate before going to school and catching his middle finger under the hay sledge runner and breaking it – it was always bent afterwards. When the family left Weardale, Joe was still at school and transferred to Oxbridge Lane School, Stockton. He used copperplate writing all of his life, which turned out to be his forte. I still have the pencil-written reference signed, ‘E Gill’, which enabled him to obtain a job with Brunner Bond in 1922, which would later become Synthetic of Ammonia and later still, ICI Billingham. He became one of the team who produced ammonia for agricultural use. He was invited to attend the celebrations for the 25th anniversary of production by Dr Alexander Fleck, Director of ICI Billingham. I should point out that on first leaving school, Joe went to work on the NER – before the LNER – as a lamp boy, then on to signaling at Bowesfield Lane box. From there, he volunteered for the East Riding Yeomanry and paraded through Stockton on their way back to Diss, Norfolk from Castle Eden. After training in Hull and York, where he learned to ride and charge on the Knanvesmire Racecourse, he and the Yeomanry were dispatched to the Western front during WW1. The order was countermanded and they sailed on HMS Victoria for Alexandria and Egypt for the duration of his service in the war. He was sent home with Bilhazia, a water-borne parasite, which could not be cured until the discovery of penicillin. He arrived at Dudley Road Hospital, Birmingham and met Nurse Gertrude Norman, who he married in 1920. My mother (Gertrude) transferred to Eston, Middlesbrough Hospital, by train, passing Cargo Fleet Ironworks at night where she thought she had arrived in hell with all of the fire and smoke! They lived in Stockton for a while and then went to stay with Harry and Hannah on their farm in Swinhopeburn, helping them to run the farm before going to live in Norton-on-Tees where I was born in 1928. Joe worked for his brother, Fred, for a short while before joining Brunner Mond. Despite being medically discharged from the First World War, he joined the TA in 1938 and was stationed at the Drill Hall, Middlesbrough HAA Headquarters. He was not a young man, as can be seen from his picture before war was even declared. Whilst dad was in the Army, Mum and I went to stay in Weardale. Hannah Kidd had recently become widowed after losing Harry and at first we stayed with her until one day a knock came to the door and it was the Billetting Officer – Thomas Oates, headmaster at Wolsingham Grammar School – asking if Hannah could take four brothers into her care. Mum and I managed to rent a house on ‘Tofty’, opposite Thomas Kidd’s shops. Gladys Kidd, his daughter, managed the chip shop. As a boy of eleven in 1939, I used to help Gladys peel the potatoes for the chips. I was rewarded with a

M

portion of them! Thomas was also the local postman, delivering mail for many miles on foot and in all weathers. The post and milk always got through. The harsh winters seemed normal in those days with drifts five feet or more to clear to keep going. The Weardale train had its own snowplough and got through to take many children from Wearhead and all other stations to Wolsingham Grammar School. Westgate was a nice little station with Mr Snowden as Station Master and Harry Watt as signalman. I cannot recall the porter but it may have been one of the Fairless family. In 1942, Joe was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis and was sent firstly to Ryhope Emergency Hospital and later to Lartington Hall, the home of Mr and Mrs Norman Fields who had converted the ballroom into a hospital ward. Christmas 1942, we had deep snow, even for Weardale. Mrs Fields invited my mother and I to a party to be held in the ward and were entertained by an early ENSA troop and dancing. Mrs Fields was a true lady who I will never forget. My father was discharged once more as medically unfit and we all returned home to Norton. Only Harry Kidd remained in Weardale to continue farming at Haswicks, keeping mainly sheep and goats. He was a founder and first secretary of the Young Farmers’ Club in the dale and prospered by buying a number of properities in Westgate and also building a new house with a garage for his bull-nosed Morris Tourer. It had celluloid side screens and a folding roof. His wife, Hannah Kidd, was noted for her contributions to the Methodist Chapel and the WVS group in Westgate. Alfred Kidd became a motor engineer and chauffeured a general in the 1914-18 war. This photo illustrated shows the family taken at the beginning of that war: rear standing –Alfred, Joseph, Nathan, Sarah, Frederick. Seated – Harry, Grandma Ann, Grandad Joseph, Thomas. When Alfred left the Army, he opened his first garage with ‘modern’ petrol pumps serving Ethol, National Benzine, Shell and ROP. He was also the Thornaby agent for Morris cars – and served his time with Freddie Dixon, the racing driver and specialist in Riley motor cars. It is appropriate to mention here Grandma Ann’s sister (Elizabeth) who married Frederick Lewis of West Hartlepool who became the first Lord Essendon. His son, the Hon. Brian Lewis, drove with people like Freddie Dixon, Lord Howe and Malcolm Campbell at Brooklands and other racing venues in the 1920s and 30s. Another point that not many know about: Brian also opened an agency on Conduit Street, London, for the de Haviland aircraft, the showroom of which was frequently endowed with bunches of flowers by his mother. On the death of his father he became the second Lord Essendon but unfortunately his marriage was childless and the title died out. Back to Alfred, during WW2, ‘Direction of Labour’ caused him to join his elder brother, Fred Kidd & Son, Engineers and Brassfounders, Stockton, for the duration of the war. Post-war, he sold his garage business in Thornaby and developed

Private Hire Service in Yarm. Later, he developed the first caravan site, known as the Weardale Caravan Site, in the Dale. The site was ideal, beside the Wear and is still operative to this day. Today, he would have been recognised as a celebrity entrepreneur, he was certainly a man of vision. Now that tourism is so important to keep the Dale alive after the cement works closed at Eastgate leaving many without a wage packet once more. Nathan, his elder brother, went to Ontario, Canada and built property out there. On his return, he married Alice Coulthard of St John’s Chapel and they had three children: Marjory, Harry and Joe, all educated at Wolsingham Grammar School. Nathan died of pneumonia in the 1929 epidemic, leaving his wife, Alice, to bring up their children by opening a fancy goods and china shop in St John’s Chapel. Harry became an agricultural chemist, working for ICI Billingham before launching his own business in Norfolk and Suffolk. His brother, Joe, joined the Royal Navy as a boy sailor in 1937. He qualified on HMS Caledonia and served out the war years in the Atlantic and Mediterranean on HMS Guerka, being torpedoed twice before transferring to submarines on HMS Andrew. It was a terribly ironic life for Joe. When he was demobbed, he married happily and had a son, Philip. He was killed when a load slipped off a lemonade lorry, taking the roof of his car off, killing him outright and injuring his wife and baby son. There is an old saying, ‘If your name is on the bullet…’Marjory, the elder sister, married Frank Stewart, an accountant at ICI Wilton. Frank and Marjory were very well-known musically in the Teesside area, performing concerts in churches and elsewhere for many years. Frederick Kidd always showed an inventive mind, he followed his education by becoming an apprentice at Wolsingham Steelworks and learning machining, casting and shaping of metals. His first invention – one of many – was for an automatic cow and animal water bowl. This worked by the animal licking a salt tablet on the water valve. Others were grinding techniques for shaping the castings direct from the casting moulds, thus saving time from using hand tools and lathe work. Another was an automatic self-levelling conveyor belt that used plastic rollers that did not require oiling, called Flexiroll. Fred was very conscious of saving time in production, time and motion study, using American time and motion studies similar to companies like Ford. This was not very popular with workers, sometimes it worked in their favour if paid by piecework. Having completed his time at Wolsingham, he married Ethel Holliday, from a well-known Wolsingham family – her sister was Gladys Holliday who taught at Wolsingham Grammar School. Fred obtained a job with Rogers of Stockton-on-Tees who specialized in ships’ heavy machinery such as bollards, winches, steering gear and overseeing the correct fitting of steering gear for John Browns of Clydebank. When Rogers went out of business in the 1926 slump, Frederick, who was then Machine Shop Foreman, bought out the firm and continued using their premises in West Row, Stockton. Once the business was again on a sound footing, he built a new factory in Church Row with a separate machine shop and foundry with its own foundry manager. Fortunately, this factory was completed and in operation in 1938 and was soon producing items of many secret types of components for the War Office. They ran a 24-hour shift system with around 150 employees. Fire-watching was compulsory for the staff and workers spotting incendiary bombs dropped by frequent raids on Teesside, something else caused by the war. Residents were issued with air raid shelters of the indoor table-top type or outdoor galvanized type, dug four feet into the ground and usually covered with earth. The government brought in an evacuee system for children of industrial areas. Many children came into Weardale as evacuees from Newcastle, Byker, Wallsend, Sunderland and Teesside. Thomas Kidd married Maggie Emerson from Westernhopeburn and they had five children – Elsie, Ethel, Ivy, Alfred and Margaret. Thomas worked for the North Eastern Generating board and Maggie had a newsagent and tobacconist’s in Yarm Road, Stockton. They moved to The Laurels in Norton High Street. In 1937, Thomas was admitted to hospital with a twisted bowel and died under anaesthetic. Maggie suffered badly from rheumatism and became chair-bound, nursed by her children. All of the girls married and Alfred joined the RAF in 1939, training in Canada as a Flying Officer/Navigator flying on Lancaster Bombers from Scampton, Lancashire. In the big bombing raids over Germany, his plane was hit over Cologne and caught fire – the order was given to bail out. On landing, Alfred was murdered by the Germans in retaliation for the massive destruction of their city. His grave, when it was eventually traced, is in the military Cemetery, Kleve, on the Dutch border. His sister, Ivy, arranged for a memorial to be placed in Sadberge church where she lived after marrying Bill Johnson. Grandad Kidd had taught himself music and played the organ for the Primitive Methodist church, Westgate for nearly 30 years as testified by the beautiful, illuminated address presented to him together with a huge family Bible, treasured in the family, signed by Oliver Coulthard, Superintendent of the Circuit. This has been passed on to my eldest son, Simon. So, what of Joseph Norman Kidd, born in Norton-on-Tees in 1928? Continued in the next editionof Remember When

Life after living in the hamlet of Swinhopeburn

Swinhopeburn Farm 1880


Memories of YesteryearWhat are your memories of Guy Fawkes night?

Thank you to Brian Featherstone for this amazing photo of Dowfold, Crook in 1911

BUILDING QUIZ - Answers from page 2a. Old Electric shop (now Bargain Booze), Crookb. Deftys hardware, Crookc. Shuttleworths, Wolsinghamd. Mechanics Institute, Bishop Aucklande. Whitfield House, Wolsinghamf. The Italian, Wolsinghamg. Stanhope Castle, Stanhopeh. The Old Empire Theatre (now Speedos), Crook

i. W.E. & J. Rowells, Stanhopej. Stanhope Castle Gazebo, Castle Gardens, Stanhopek. St. Mary & St. Stephen Church, Wolsinghaml. The Frosterley Inn, Frosterleym. St. Thomas' Church, Stanhopen. Witton Castle, Wittono. The Old Co-op, Stanhopep. The Gatehouse, Lord Crewe Arms, Blanchlandq. Wolsingham Grammar School

Remember ..."Penny for the guy"

which was carted around on a Bogie to beg for coppers

~ Julie Bartlett

Remembering 'how we used to celebrate'By Julie Bartlett

It's only in recent years Halloween has been celebrated, growing up in the 1950s the main event in Autumn was bonfire night. Throughout October groups of boys collected bits of wood, tree branches, old mattresses, etc to make a bonfire. During the half-term holiday, which we called blackberry or potato picking week, it got really intense and the fire materials were piled really high.

The closest to me was Larchfield Gardens, Crook, but there were others on the estate. There was fierce competition on which was best and they were often raided by rival gangs which led to groups of boys guarding their fire. Usually had small fires alight beside the main one to keep warm.

Every night there were knocks at the door with boys collecting "penny for the guy", usually the guy was dragged around on a bogie, some were really good, dressed up in old clothes, whereas others a scruffy, stuffed pillow case with string tied to create a neck and head.

When 5th November arrived, there were lots of individual small fires in back gardens on the estate, fireworks set off but sadly they were gone quickly. My mam always bought me a box of assorted "crackers" - my dad bought rockets, I loved those, along with Roman Candles and Catherine Wheels.

Once these were finished it was a mad dash to Larchfield Gardens, to see the 'big' fire. The guy was usually gone by the time I arrived, occasionally saw remnants of him but the fire was well-established.

Crowds of us were on the green and sometimes we had potatoes which we'd snuck out without our mams knowing; we cooked them unwashed in the red hot ashes and ate them, usually half charred and partly raw but never had an ill effects. At the end of the night we all had black, sooty faces and

No health and safety restrictions but, I suppose, we were lucky to come through unscathed. Sometimes a bit silly, but great memories.

We are a friendly, family-run business - easily located to all in the North East of England AND WORLDWIDE!AN EMPORIUM OF ANTIQUES! WE HAVE AN EXTENSIVE STOCK OF:

English & Continental furniture l Clocks l Barometers l Ethnic carpets l Vintage clothing l Chandeliers l Decorative items l CollectablesWe have cabinets full of fine collectors items, including Beswick, Winstanley Animals: Cats & Hares, Maling, Royal Doulton, AND MORE!

OVER 2,000 ITEMS IN STOCK in our shop, attic and warehouse - Come and see the amazing items for yourselfWE BUY l WE SELL l HOUSE CLEARANCES l ITEMS ALWAYS WANTED

Tel: Shop (01388) 664366 l Mobile: 0793 157 1516 l Email: [email protected] Or visit our website: www.somethingdifferentantiques.co.uk

Open 7 days a week l Monday-Saturday, 10am-5pm l Sunday 11am-4pm

Clocks, Period Lighting, Furnishings, Collectables, and lots more!Something Different Antiques, 34a Maude Terrace, St. Helen Auckland, Bishop Auckland, County Durham DL14 9BD

Contact PETER REEVES for Furniture/rennovation, Clocks/repairs, Lighting, Decorative items, Taxidermy, AND MORE...Contact YVONNE REEVES for Pottery, Silver, Jewellery, Fashion (which is perfect for quirky fashion, parties and re-enactments) AND MORE...

~ Something Different Antiques ~~ Something Different Antiques ~


St John's Chapel, 1950-51 Wolsingham Town FC, 1950

Wolsingham Youth Club, 1989-90Crook Electric FC, 1970s

Peases Tennis Courts, 1950s

Back row (L-R) 1.Manager Keith Hetherington; 2. Arthur Pratt; 3. (?), 4. (?) Elliott; 5. Gordon Watson; 6. Fred Peart 7. Terry Knaggs

Front Row (L-R) 1. Robbie Lamb; 2. Good sportsman (?); 3. Edward Rowell; 4. Reg Varah; 5. Charlie Cridge

Back row (L-R) Kevin Jackson, Trevor Parkinson, Howard Cancun, John Taylor, Jim Rooney, David Wright, Hall Johnson

Front Row (L-R) Keith Goulden, Brian Lonsdale, Derek Jackson, Charlie Lee, Dennis Seymour

Recognise anyone?

Photo with thanks to Andrew Collinson

Photo with thanks to Robbie Lamb

Photo with thanks to Robbie Lamb

Photo with thanks to Derek Jackson

A group from W.G.S. at Peases Tennis CourtsL-R (back) - A. Andrews, D. Alderson, D. Bennet, K. Hetton, D. Vinnel

L-R (front) - M. Thexton, B. Allan, E. Collingwood

Now and then... Sport

1st Wolsingham Boy Scouts 1960

We need your nostaligic photos & stories! See page 2 for details


With thanks to Margaret Stephenson whose dad is pictured far rightGetting their Safe Driving Awards

Reggie Spark, Willie Ridley, Norman Hobbs, Jackie Woodhall, Harold Walton, Bobby Gibbon, and Malcolm Martin

The old Co-op Building (now The Hub and MS Society shop, Stanhope)

How we were at Stanhope

Old local recipe...

With thanks to Jill Gilthorpe (nee Wearmouth)

A way with words...Poem found in the Gazette office - Author unknown (let us know if this was you!)

NostalgiaWe met, we married, a long time ago,

We worked long hours, wages were low,No telly, no radio, no bath, times were hard,Just a cold water tap and a walk up the yard,No holidays abroad, no carpet on the floor,

We had coal on the fire and we never locked the door.

Our children arrived, no pill in those days,And we brought them up without state aid.

no valium, no drugs, no LSD,We cured our pains with a nice cup of tea!If you were sick, you were treated at once,

Not, "Fill in a form and come back in a month!"

Novandals, no muggings, we had nowt to rob,in fact you were rich with a couple of bob.People were happier in those far off days,

Kinder, more caring, in so many ways.Milkmen or paperboys would whistle or sing,

And a night at the flicks was a wonderful thing.

Oh! We had our troubles, we had our strife,but we just had to face them, that was our life.

But now I'm alone, I look back through the years,I don't think of the troubles, bad times and tears.

I remember the blessings, our home, kids and love,We shared them together, and thanked God above.

BOOK REVIEW

Talking Threads- Writing from Weardale -

NorthPens is a group of writers based in Weardale.

The poems, stories and memoirs gathered in the book "Talking Threads"

however, range far and wide.

They celebrate the craft of storytelling in a vibrant range of forms, interweaving the

strands of time and place with the voices of an eclectic, funny and often moving,

bunch of characters.

Book available to buy for £7.50 at:Weardale Gazette shop,

6 Market Place, Stanhope DL13 2UJTo request a postal copy, please tel:

(01388) 527706

We need your nostaligic photos & stories! See page 2 for details


Who remembers...

Glenholme park, Crook. Circa 1984

(with council prefabs in background) by Lisa Parkin

The Long Man, centre hill, Bollihope. Circa 1984*more pronounced than he is these days, by Lisa Parkin

Marleen having a good time at Horsley Barra Job

Horsley Barra Job - Recognise anyone?

Horsley Barra Job - Recognise anyone?

Wishing our readers - All the very best for 2018,from all of us here at the Weardale Gazette!Thank you for your continued support

Dougie's introductory storywhich will be a running feature

Look out for The History of Tunstallin the next edition of Remember When

We'd love to share your old photos!Please contact us! See page 2 for contact details

Taken at Wolsingham. There's a few famous local faces on here... Bryan Craggs, Paul Lally, Andrew Vipond, Lee Robinson, Richard Stobbs... Do you recognise anyone?With thanks to Andrew Collinson for the photo

Please continue to submit your old photos & stories!E: [email protected]

T: (01388) 527706

Jack and Golda Hodgson, with son Jeff

(and Jeff thinks George Clark's also in the photo)

at Crook park, with outdoor paddling pool in background

Circa 1972/73. Look how busy it was!

Thanks to Jeff Hodgson for the photo

weardale gazette when 13... · employment in the mining, quarying and steel foundry industries....

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