|
We were lucky living in the Station Masters house as the garden fence between the
station and our property was over grown with brambles that produced large amounts berries most years giving us our own supply. In the garden between its edge and the orchard a bramble bush had grown to quite some
size and had a good crop of fruit on it but it was being choked by dry grass and other garden weeds. One year it did not have many brambles on it, so after what was on it had been picked, armed with a bucket
of water and I think that mum had given permission (I’m not 100% sure) I set fire to the rubbish.
It was a bigger fire than what I thought it would be! Not only the rubbish but the leaves and dead wood of the bush were burnt up. The good thing was that the fire died down as quickly as it was started leaving the skeletal remains of it with no damage to the surrounding area. The outcome was that the following year when it was time for bramble picking the bush had grown back with more foliage and bigger and juicier fruit than before and there was no rubbish under and trying to grow through it. I found out years later working as a signal man on NLLR at its southern end that you could find growing beside most country railway lines bramble bushes in abundance.
We also had a special place to pick brambles, which was on Low Burgage just before the tree on the right in the lower end of the road. Access was gained by entering the bushes that were planted on the top of the
ditch before you got to the tree. Once through the outer foliage it was very easy to make our way down through the branches to the bottom of the bank and onto the sticks and leaves that had been filling the ditch
bottom over the years . Negotiating a patch of tall nettles trying not to get stung and leaving most of them still standing to hide our progress along the ditch, it opened up to reveal the bank from behind the
bushes on the roadside to the bottom where we stood covered with brambles. During the time we spent there picking the berries other children could be heard passing with no knowledge of how close they were to us or
the brambles they sought. It could have been a different container full if they had been picking in the hedges of the field behind us because we would have been seen and our secret out. I must admit that many miles
could be walked around Winteringham picking the brambles before returning home with full containers and purple stained fingers.
The best part of these days were when mum made the fruit into pies mixed with our home grown apples from the orchard, or made them into jam.
The Great Trouser Robbery
One Saturday when about thirteen or fourteen I caught the bus from home to
Scunthorpe to buy a pair of trousers or ice blue jeans that seemed to be the fashion at the time and had tight legs much like the `drain pipes` worn by the Teddy boys.
I went to one of the Army, Navy Stores called Parker and Whites who's shop at that time was at the opposite side of the road from Kirmans shop as they sold clothing at prices that I could afford (cheap but good quality and I knew that they would fit). After making my purchase I made my way up one side of the High Street most likely calling in Woolworth's as we did most times when in town before walking on looking in shop windows up to Britannia Corner then made my way back down the opposite side doing more window shopping. At the Bus Station I made my way down to the end next to the multi story car park this was where the buses to Winteringham and New Holland had their stands. This Bus Station replaced the one that was roughly in the area of the shopping mall (I think it's called `The Foundry) and was in use until recently when the area was redeveloped with the Bus Station being moved back and new shops and car park built partly over and around the the area.
With no bus present I looked at the timetable to find that I
would have a wait of twenty to thirty minutes before one was due. As I stood propped against the railings I noted a young lady sitting on one of the benches. We acknowledged each other and carried on waiting.
Two policemen were wandering down the length of the Bus Station but having seen them do this before when I had been waiting for a bus I took no further notice and carried on minding my own business until one
of them was at the side of me and the other in front. This took me somewhat by surprise. First one spoke then the other. With their note books out my name address was taken down then the PCs continued with
their questions, wanting to know where I had been, what was in the bag I had and where was the receipt for for the goods? Opening the bag I handed the receipt to the PC who checked it against my purchase. The
second PC had asked if any one would be able to back up the time when I arrived to catch the bus so I pointed out the young lady and off he went to speak to her as the other PC waited by me. On his return they
spoke together in hushed tones then turned to me and apologised explaining that a shop in the High Street had been robbed and that the description that had been given to them was one that fitted me to a `T` (
hair, height, clothing etc. ) I must have passed the shop within minutes of the robbery
but because I had receipts for my purchases and the young lady was able to confirm the times I gave the PCs they were satisfied I was not their man. When the bus pulled into the stand and we boarded it the young lady sat near me and we chatted about what had just happened. I then recognised her, She was from Winteringham and lived up West End her name if my memory is correct was Margaret. Her family lived up towards the Chapel on the right hand side of the road in the garden set back stood a garage with a painting of a sports car on it.
Definitely Not Cricket!
Football was and still is one of the sports that I have very little interest in but
had to play at school as it was part or our lessons. Basically I don't understand the game or the rules. I do keep an eye on the local teams progress and that's as far as it goes. I even find other programmes to
watch when it is shown on TV. I must admit that as a lad growing up I joined in the street kick about in Low Burgage where we placed our jackets or jumpers in the road to make a goal. When cars wanted to pass
where we were playing we would move to the side and leave our goal posts where they were and the car would pass with its wheels either side of them with no damage. I doubt if this would happen today.
From
Winteringham I do have one memory about the village football team which at the time was playing down Low Burgage. The field was the last in the right as you go down the road and I believed named Low Grove. The field
was some what uneven and rutted when first entered it but by the time you were about half way in it had become level and that was where the Football Pitch had been positioned. This particular day saw a reasonable
crowd gathered to watch the match the older men stood in their long coats and we youngsters in what ever we had been allowed to play out in that day. I think that the Winteringham goal keeper that day was a young
lad older than myself called `Baz Hilton` who during the game dived for a low ball to stop it entering the goal and hit the goal post with quite a bit of force and laid himself out, completely knocked out. I
remember he was laid there with a chap who had a Doctors type bag bent over him for some time before they both got back to their feet. I am sorry that I don't remember who Winteringham were playing or any thing more
about the game as it has been forgotten.
Maybe there is someone who was at that game or has been told of that days play who could add more to the memory?
|
