|
Hello to the team on the Winteringham Website.
A line to say thank you for doing such a splendid job. My mum's had a wonderful time reading the sheets I've
printed off for her.
My mum, Kathleen Phillips, aged ninety four lived in Wintringham for around a year during 1939 and often remembers her time there with great happiness. Her first taste of true
village life, her recollections would have you believe it was a real paradise.
I suppose that's what being in your twenties does for you.
Pregnant with her first child she lived on Low Burgage
near to a Mrs Russell and next door to a lady with children whose husband was a lorry driver. She recalls inviting this lady to travel to Scunthorpe with her on the bus where she purchased a rug (and a
purse which she gave to her neighbour). They laughed together as she rolled the carpet down the hill nearer to the house where she lived.
She also recalls trying to buy tea on a Sunday (I
believe it was against the law at that time) and could not persuade the two stern ladies who ran the shop to help out.
Remembering the beauty of the area she describes sunny afternoons sitting on the
banks watching boats and ships . Apparently there were young Germans on some of the ships collecting slag from the steelworks, presumably some of which landed back in England a little later.
She
gave birth in Scunthorpe hospital and later her little girl suffered from a mastoid which 'Dr. Crow' diagnosed. He took mum and my sister Margaret in his own car to hospital. Margaret stayed for 6
weeks and the doctor brought mum back alone.
She remembers her house number as 4 Low Burgage and near to a property inhabited by a newly married couple who were often to be heard laughing, sometimes
from the upper floors! I think that is rather a lovely memory as I can’t imagine young couples in the thirties laughing at all.
She also remembers visiting a place in the village where
a large shed held dusty ornaments and second hand furniture . She bought a chair for one shilling and some ornaments for 2 pence each. Father rejected the chair as it had woodworm. This
sounds like the forerunner of the car boot sale. She treasured the ornaments until a friend accidentally knocked them from her mantle shelve.
Apparently the station master lived next door
but one, and was a friend of dad's from their school days in Mansfield. Perhaps it was he who found someone to cut the wardrobe in half so they could get it up the stairs which wound round awkwardly out of
the kitchen into the bedroom.
Another name she mentions is Hollingworth, a gentleman who also worked for the railway. His two young children often came to visit her.
My Father, Frank
Phillips was a signal man and had been posted to Wintringham. Unfortunately when the war broke out he was immediately called up as he was in the territorials.
Mum was devastated as she had grown
to love the village, beyond reason. She had felt life wonderful with dad earning a good salary on the railway and the presents of potatoes and other agricultural bounty dropped at the door.
She often
recalled her despair as she was forced to return to Mansfield (and her Mother-in-law!)
"I sobbed as I left the village and cried all the way back to Mansfield,"
I thought I must
have been pretty grim in those dark days but she is adamant that it was the happiest time of her life. As I say, I think its down to her youth.
I cannot vouch for the names she mentions. Her
short term memory is not brilliant. But I can give you a hearty thank you for your website. We still have lots to look at.
Wendy Demir (nee Phillips)
|
