I went to South Lancing School next to the Main Post Office from 1941 to 1947 and I have attached a photo of the teachers who were there in about 1946/7. I think that the one with the flowers in her lapel was the headmistress, Miss Kates, and in the middle was Miss Alexander. On the right is Mrs Curd of an old Lancing family. Who were the others? I really enjoyed my days at the school except of course that these were the years with frequent visits to the Air Raid Shelters. Names such as Jackie Jasper, Daphne Chamberlain, Brian Vincent, Mike Smith ... were some of our classmates.
Thursday, 31 May 2012
23.Ted White
Ted has kindly sent a picture of his family for an article about Penstone House and also enclosed the picture below.. He writes:-
Sunday, 29 April 2012
22. Derek Gorham sends old photo's
Thanks to Derek again, here he has sent three photos and is hoping a reader of this blog will be able to add some information regarding the people in the photo's.
[click the images to enlarge]
The Home Guard picture is my Dad, Bill Hendy, ?, ?,?,?.
The other picture has been dated 1944 and was taken in the Carriage Works. Miss Hawkes is the lady and my Dad is on the left but why this group?
The third picture is the1950s darts team at the Legion; my Mum, Mrs Payne, Mrs LLoyd,?, Mrs Monery, ?,?,Mrs Parker, Mrs Trixie Payne.
[click the images to enlarge]
The Home Guard picture is my Dad, Bill Hendy, ?, ?,?,?.
 |
| courtesy Derek Gorham |
The other picture has been dated 1944 and was taken in the Carriage Works. Miss Hawkes is the lady and my Dad is on the left but why this group?
 |
| courtesy Derek Gorham |
The third picture is the1950s darts team at the Legion; my Mum, Mrs Payne, Mrs LLoyd,?, Mrs Monery, ?,?,Mrs Parker, Mrs Trixie Payne.
 |
| courtesy Derek Gorham |
Monday, 23 April 2012
21. Derek Gorham recalls North Lancing Primary
Derek writes his Lancing memory about North Lancing School
Like so many of your contributors, I stumbled on your site and the memories just flowed. I hope some of this will be of interest. There could be more if I really thought.
I was born in 1948 having come down the big chimney at Southlands [maternity hospital] as Nurse Paddy Hatley used to say. She and her colleague "Bon" were the district nurses for the village; the latter was also the "nit nurse" at North Lancing School. Bon was quite short and by our last year she needed a stool to reach. Doctor Betty was the doctor. There were no appointments or intercom to call you in. Patients sat around a big room with a grandfather clock in the corner; waited their turn and then the door opened and without fail a tremendous cough errupted from behind it. Doctor Betty had a "foreign" car and acknowledged everyone he knew as he drove around. Since he seemed to know everyone his hands were seldom on the wheel.
School on Google Maps
Miss Humphreys, who had been at the school since WW1, left a term after I started at North Lancing Primary. If you left your autograph book with her she would draw beautiful pictures of rabbits in crayon in it. Then Mr Cox arrived with his cane. Mrs Barnes did the dinner money; Miss Goby with her big Wooden Record player and 78 of "The Stars and Stripes", ideal music for marching round the room to, was the Reception teacher. Then came Miss Lapham who taught us to read using Chicken Licken books in which the sky fell on the unfortunate bird. I managed to avoid Mrs Horne/Miss Orman who was severe of dress and much feared. Mrs Thomas used to arrive on her bike which had a plastic guard over the back wheel to protect her dress. Mrs Jones also had a bike and we learned our tables by writing them on little pieces of paper which were then thrown away. Mr "Pop" Steer was the cub master .He had a car, Uncle Clem. He also was in the choir at St James and organized musical evenings; I can still remember much of "The Pied Piper of Hamelin" and he ran a recorder group. We used to play people out from assembly. "March in Scipio" seemed to be a favourite. Raffia mats and basket work were his speciality; there always seemed to be rolls of cane soaking in water. Mr Nutter had his own cane and taught in the original school. Finally there was Miss Tate with her very sensible hair do and measured walk.
Miss Curzon taught us country dancing ;Mr Durrant was there, as well as Miss Higgins whom he married. They used to sit in the sun at the back of the huts and chat. Miss Waite arrived and , I think taught drama. Mr Wood, the caretaker, had a droopy moustache and wore thick corduroy trousers. He was always on hand with a bucket of sawdust if someone was sick.
As for my classmates there was: Philip Norton who was my friend until his death two years ago, Jamie Wrench, David Coker, Peter Clist, Maureen Clarke, Angela Bayley, Janice King, Lynne Sandford, Neil Furze, Lynn Tugnett, Christine Marshall, Steven Blackledge, Colin? Bishop, Freda Voak and Alvin Vordregger (who could forget that name?). Then there are the people I can see who are nameless.
Chuff Chuff Charlie Elphick was not in my class but we all used to watch him endlessly "playing trains" at playtime.
The Eleven Plus arrived; those of us who passed went on to Grammar school. The girls disappeared and so did the pupils who were not successful but we had all had a safe childhood; been well taught and had the good fortune to have the Downs and the beach as our playground.
Wednesday, 1 February 2012
20. Sue Sutherland's North Lancing Memories
I came across your web sit by sheer accident and was delighted to find it.
Even though I am thousands of miles away I often think of north Lancing. I lived there during my childhood and went to North Lancing Primary School, I remember so clearly sweet Miss Humphry's and the sometimes intimidating Miss Tate. Miss Tate was my teacher and Mr Stears was also my teacher and piano teacher to whose house on Penhill I dutifully went every Saturday morning. The only thing I can remember was that his front room was extremely cold and my forte was not playing the piano.
I remember the Tythe Barn and we used to buy our eggs there (it's so sad it is no longer), our veggies either came from the garden (my mother was in the land army) or from a house which was just down from the end of the manor and next to the Corner House.
Some one had also mentioned the path through the woods at the back of the manor. We used to play in those woods all the time and there were two cottages which were the old woodsman cottages left over from when the manor was a fully functioning estate. Next to the cottages was a air raid shelter which no one ever went into. We thought it was haunted. They are probably gone now too.
I worked at Pat Barton's stables and for a day of mucking out stalls I got a free riding lesson, in the summer we collected the hay from top of the downs between the end of Mill Road and the Clump. Some weekends John (son) and I would take the donkey and cart over the downs to Steyning and sell manure. Pat Barton also let me come to the point to point races and even let me use a pony and paid for my entry into a race at a gymkhana we all went too. I remember him as a very proud gentlemen who fought incredible pain from a hunting accident in Ireland. Although the farm was run down all the animals were well looked after. Those days were in retrospect probably the happiest of my entire life.
I was also in the Girl Guides. I have forgotten the name of the Captain, other than she was a Miss and had been captain for ever. She did not believe in any modern conveniences and we dug our own latrines, made our own furniture and all cooking was done on a wood stove (if you didn't get dry wood you did not eat), William Baden Powell would have been proud.
I also remember so clearly the yearly fete at the manor. We did country dancing and there was also a parade where the coal company still had the horse drawn cart. Our milk was delivered by horse and cart (South Coast Dairies) and occasionally a rag and bone man would show up with his pony and cart.
I was very fortunate to grow up in such a wonderful environment.
Best Regards
Sue Sutherland
Update..sue wrote this footnote: FYI I was talking to my cousin today who still lives in the area and she remembered the name of the captain of the girl guides and it was Miss Norris.
Regards Sue Sutherland.
Even though I am thousands of miles away I often think of north Lancing. I lived there during my childhood and went to North Lancing Primary School, I remember so clearly sweet Miss Humphry's and the sometimes intimidating Miss Tate. Miss Tate was my teacher and Mr Stears was also my teacher and piano teacher to whose house on Penhill I dutifully went every Saturday morning. The only thing I can remember was that his front room was extremely cold and my forte was not playing the piano.
I remember the Tythe Barn and we used to buy our eggs there (it's so sad it is no longer), our veggies either came from the garden (my mother was in the land army) or from a house which was just down from the end of the manor and next to the Corner House.
Some one had also mentioned the path through the woods at the back of the manor. We used to play in those woods all the time and there were two cottages which were the old woodsman cottages left over from when the manor was a fully functioning estate. Next to the cottages was a air raid shelter which no one ever went into. We thought it was haunted. They are probably gone now too.
I worked at Pat Barton's stables and for a day of mucking out stalls I got a free riding lesson, in the summer we collected the hay from top of the downs between the end of Mill Road and the Clump. Some weekends John (son) and I would take the donkey and cart over the downs to Steyning and sell manure. Pat Barton also let me come to the point to point races and even let me use a pony and paid for my entry into a race at a gymkhana we all went too. I remember him as a very proud gentlemen who fought incredible pain from a hunting accident in Ireland. Although the farm was run down all the animals were well looked after. Those days were in retrospect probably the happiest of my entire life.
I was also in the Girl Guides. I have forgotten the name of the Captain, other than she was a Miss and had been captain for ever. She did not believe in any modern conveniences and we dug our own latrines, made our own furniture and all cooking was done on a wood stove (if you didn't get dry wood you did not eat), William Baden Powell would have been proud.
I also remember so clearly the yearly fete at the manor. We did country dancing and there was also a parade where the coal company still had the horse drawn cart. Our milk was delivered by horse and cart (South Coast Dairies) and occasionally a rag and bone man would show up with his pony and cart.
I was very fortunate to grow up in such a wonderful environment.
Best Regards
Sue Sutherland
Update..sue wrote this footnote: FYI I was talking to my cousin today who still lives in the area and she remembered the name of the captain of the girl guides and it was Miss Norris.
Regards Sue Sutherland.
Friday, 16 December 2011
19.Memory from Jan Baker-Freeman
This story was originally posted as a comment below another story in May 2010
I should of done it more justice and given it a full placing in these stories . I am correcting this here.
Jan writes..
..I too just came upon this site, and it brings back all the memories of my 7 years of growing up in Lancing, all the people I remember, all the people I would love to know how they are doing now.
View Larger Map
Huss and chips at the chip shop on Penhill, great pickled onions and gherkins.
I remember Saturday morning pictures, I was on the committee, not sure I ever accomplished anything.
When I returned I worked for Tesco in Worthing then SPD and Solarbo, A C Draycot part time such a small world. Lovely memories of the ocean, rough and green often, the downs, Devils Dyke, Brighton Pier, Worthing Pier where I spent my pennies in silly games.
I should of done it more justice and given it a full placing in these stories . I am correcting this here.
Jan writes..
..I too just came upon this site, and it brings back all the memories of my 7 years of growing up in Lancing, all the people I remember, all the people I would love to know how they are doing now.
This brought so much pleasure it is amazing.
All this started with a need for school records for a job with the Dallas Police Dept, which at 65, I eventually withdrew from.
My name is Jan(et) Baker-Freeman, I moved from Grange Hill Essex, a council house exchange by my Grand parents, William and Alice Baker, to 177 Tower Rd, next to the Messers, Linda, David and I think Christopher, I remember Diane Bacon, Barbara Gorringe, her Father was the rent man, then there was Mr. & Mrs. Tom Reynolds the postie, and they had a son who's name I don't recall, he must not have lived there, as I was close as an only child to these people.
I remember the Brenda and Richard Pitt who emigrated to Australia, I think their Dad had the green grocers on South St. It's people I remember, as well as places, I am recalling the people I used to see in the places you mention.
I remember the Betteridge girls, Patsy Leggit, Frances Martin, Jennifer Cook, Lillian ? from Busby Close, Susan and Janet Shepherd who went to Beverley House on Penhill Road, as did I, after I came out of hospital after contracting polio.
View Larger Map
Huss and chips at the chip shop on Penhill, great pickled onions and gherkins.
I remember Saturday morning pictures, I was on the committee, not sure I ever accomplished anything.
I remember school mates, Frances Shapland, Maureen Singer, Barbara McGuiness, Carol Mason, Sheilagh Churcher, Margareet Deacon, Margaret Cheetham, Ivy Sullivan, Avril Barraclough, just so many girls..
The "rec", biking to Arundel, most likely a difficult feat today, many cars on the roads.
Carolyn Holden, Mary Goldsmith, Christopher Riddle, Jennifer Wintle, Honnie Marshall, Carol Burchet, her mother was the restaurant manager at the Odeon. Just 7 short years, to know and remember all these names, what a great place for a child to grow up.
When I returned I worked for Tesco in Worthing then SPD and Solarbo, A C Draycot part time such a small world. Lovely memories of the ocean, rough and green often, the downs, Devils Dyke, Brighton Pier, Worthing Pier where I spent my pennies in silly games.
What a delightful trip down memory lane.
Tuesday, 13 December 2011
Lancing Bandstand/Shelter
Does anyone have any historical information about the concrete bandstand/shelter at the west end of beach green?
Sunday, 6 March 2011
18. Memory from Jan Barwick (nee Stonley)
Dear Ray,
I saw your site and had to put down these memories from my childhood in Lancing. I hope you can use them.
I lived in one of the semi-detached houses opposite Lancing Manor park in Old Shoreham Road, just along from Manor Road. The other half of our house was occupied by the Weeburs, and the Grovers were in the house next door on the other side. Bart Grover was a nurseryman up in Manor Road and his children Susan and Diana were in between my brother and me in age.
None of the bungalows in Old Shoreham Road or behind our houses had been built then. Instead there was a wilderness rank with nettles in which we used to play, through which a stream passed. This had a downside. In winter the water table rose and springs used to appear in our garden and flood our garage, sometimes up to a foot in depth.
One of my earliest memories is of bonfire night – probably about 1950. We had fireworks and the families in the houses had built a huge bonfire on the rough ground behind the house around which we all danced singing ‘Guy Fawkes Guy, poke him in the eye’.
At the corner by the roundabout at the top of Grinstead Lane was McCurdy’s shop, a little wooden shack which sold all sorts of basic groceries, fruit and veg, sweets and paraffin. Mr McCurdy was a scot, didn’t like children and was incredibly grumpy with us. He used to play a set of bagpipes under a chestnut tree by the sandpit in the park. He lived in a cottage next door to the shop, opposite which was a conker tree – one of many in the vicinity which we targeted at conker time, throwing sticks up to knock the conkers down. McCurdy always used to come out and shout at us if he saw. Mrs Cane lived in the other cottage next door to the McCurdys, a pretty half-timbered building called Willow Cottage. Unsurprisingly there was a huge willow tree in the garden.
Lancing Manor was still there then. It had a nursery school and I remember walking past the windows and seeing the toddlers on mats on the floor having their afternoon nap. I have a vague memory of them pulling it down in the late 50s - and much stronger memories of the cricket pavilion going up in flames which I guess was sometime in the early 60s. The flames lit up my bedroom one night.
Lancing Manor park was a wonderful place to play, with masses of space for ball games and banks to roll down. There were swings in the north-west corner, a sandpit under trees in the middle and plenty of climbable trees, particularly beautiful big elms which I guess are all no longer there. One of the biggest challenges was to walk the length of the flint wall at the back of the park. Memory suggests that it was about six foot tall but when I went back and looked during a visit in the 90s, it was only about waist height.
Behind the Manor there was a narrow wood between the houses and the field, which led up onto the Downs, another location where we would disappear for hours at a time. The chalk pit at the top of Mill Road was a particularly favoured place to play hide and seek. Beyond here Bartons had a riding stable where we used to go on a Saturday for a half hour ride for 2/6d, 5s for an hour. Pat Barton, the owner, was Irish and had a metal hip. We were all quite frightened of him as he was very intimidating, and controlled the more wayward horses with a whip. His children John and Jane mainly used to take the rides out. They were both as feisty as their father, but Mrs Barton was a much more amenable soul. I remember falling off virtually every week but it never seemed to put me off.
Housing development started in the 1950s. The first bungalows were built down Manor Way then along Manor Close. These building sites were great places to play and we used to purloin bits of old equipment – planks and tarpaulins and the like, to make camps. At the end of Manor Close was Mr Kirk’s farm. Mr Kirk kept pigs and chickens and showed me how he used to kill the chickens quickly by wringing their necks. We used to help him muck the pigs out – all except the boar which was too dangerous to get in the pen with.
The banks of the stream that ran alongside his property was riddled with holes. If you sat quietly for long enough you’d spot water voles coming out. They were very common then.
I went to primary school at Lancing Prep, which was behind the church in South Street.
View Larger Map
The headmistress when I first went there was Mrs Rees, then Miss Kirk took over and was there until (I believe) the school closed in the 1960s. Mrs Pell was another teacher that I remember with great fondness. There were only two main classrooms and a small outside area where we could play. For more vigorous activity we used to be taken in a crocodile down to the beach green. The school was very small – probably no more than 20 or so pupils – and probably kept going in great part by the Johnson family of which May, Pauline, Philip, Tony, Wendy and Ann were all there at one time together. I think the youngest one, Caroline, never got to the school because it had closed by then.
One thing I don’t remember, which is surprising as we used to ride up that way a lot, was the dew pond up by the clump. Is this a recent development, or is my memory here at fault?
Regards,
Jan Barwick (nee Stonley)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My Reply..
Hello Jan
This was a lovely surprise to receive your memories. Thank you very much.
I will be very pleased to add them to the existing collection.
A small family coincidence is that my wife's mother lived at a bungalow opposite the park in the mid 1930's for short time. Later she worked for the Weeburs at their glassworks.
My wife (her name is also Jan) asked about the church school you mention, is that the building on the north side of St Michaels Church.
(You probably know that you can view it on Google maps)
The Dewpond was relatively recently restored, the first time in 1991, and again around 2000, with occasional repairs and maintenance up to the present.
I have heard mentioned that the girl guides used to make camp fires on the site when it was just a forgotten hollow in the ground.
___________________________________________________________________________
Jan replies..
The church was the one a few yards down from the Farmers’ Pub . I couldn’t remember its name (the school didn’t have anything to do with the church as far as I can remember, certainly never had services there – we just used the rooms behind) but I had a look on Google street view and it’s right next door to the Circle Garage. It’s an imposing building with a gabled frontage and a narrow spire on the left hand side. Not to be confused with the Methodist church of St Michaels which is further down.
Funny your comments about the Weeburs. I had no idea he had a glassworks, but I guess when I was a child and they lived next door he was already retired. He was quite a grumpy old thing.
Was your wife’s mother in Manor Road – the one that runs up to the Sussex Potter? I remember we used to play with Keith and Robert Pudd who used to live there (in a bungalow in Manor Road, not at the Potter) and who also went to Lancing Prep. My brother Derek used to work in the Potter (then the Corner House) in his long vacations when he was at Cambridge University. After they’d converted it I also worked there behind the bar in the vacations. Other places I worked in on Saturdays and in the holidays were the laundry in (I think South Street) although I hated ironing handkerchiefs so much I only lasted a week, and the Mermaid on the beach green. I was waitressing there in 1966 during the World Cup and remember rushing home on my bike and arriving home shortly before the ‘they think it’s all over.. it is now’ moment. In my childhood a Mr and Mrs Booth ran the Mermaid for a while. Their daughter Janet invited me to her 7th birthday party and I fell over on the concrete strip that ran around the house and cut my knee to the extent that I needed six stitches. Still got the scar.
Glad my memories of the dewpond were correct. I was a fanatic natural historian and always made a beeline for anywhere wildlife rich, so I’d certainly have been there with my net and jamjars. One place we used to love was a fantastically clear pond at the junction where the road to the old tollbridge split from the Coombes road, on the airport side. It was quite deep and full of water weed. I had a look on Google earth but it looks like it’s been filled in. The whole of the south side of the road between that junction and Mash Barn Lane was always very marshy. There used to be a lot of travellers that camped in a layby there.
I’d love to hear any more of your wife’s memories. I have such strong recollections of a very happy childhood in the village.
I saw your site and had to put down these memories from my childhood in Lancing. I hope you can use them.
I lived in one of the semi-detached houses opposite Lancing Manor park in Old Shoreham Road, just along from Manor Road. The other half of our house was occupied by the Weeburs, and the Grovers were in the house next door on the other side. Bart Grover was a nurseryman up in Manor Road and his children Susan and Diana were in between my brother and me in age.
None of the bungalows in Old Shoreham Road or behind our houses had been built then. Instead there was a wilderness rank with nettles in which we used to play, through which a stream passed. This had a downside. In winter the water table rose and springs used to appear in our garden and flood our garage, sometimes up to a foot in depth.
One of my earliest memories is of bonfire night – probably about 1950. We had fireworks and the families in the houses had built a huge bonfire on the rough ground behind the house around which we all danced singing ‘Guy Fawkes Guy, poke him in the eye’.
At the corner by the roundabout at the top of Grinstead Lane was McCurdy’s shop, a little wooden shack which sold all sorts of basic groceries, fruit and veg, sweets and paraffin. Mr McCurdy was a scot, didn’t like children and was incredibly grumpy with us. He used to play a set of bagpipes under a chestnut tree by the sandpit in the park. He lived in a cottage next door to the shop, opposite which was a conker tree – one of many in the vicinity which we targeted at conker time, throwing sticks up to knock the conkers down. McCurdy always used to come out and shout at us if he saw. Mrs Cane lived in the other cottage next door to the McCurdys, a pretty half-timbered building called Willow Cottage. Unsurprisingly there was a huge willow tree in the garden.
Lancing Manor was still there then. It had a nursery school and I remember walking past the windows and seeing the toddlers on mats on the floor having their afternoon nap. I have a vague memory of them pulling it down in the late 50s - and much stronger memories of the cricket pavilion going up in flames which I guess was sometime in the early 60s. The flames lit up my bedroom one night.
Lancing Manor park was a wonderful place to play, with masses of space for ball games and banks to roll down. There were swings in the north-west corner, a sandpit under trees in the middle and plenty of climbable trees, particularly beautiful big elms which I guess are all no longer there. One of the biggest challenges was to walk the length of the flint wall at the back of the park. Memory suggests that it was about six foot tall but when I went back and looked during a visit in the 90s, it was only about waist height.
Behind the Manor there was a narrow wood between the houses and the field, which led up onto the Downs, another location where we would disappear for hours at a time. The chalk pit at the top of Mill Road was a particularly favoured place to play hide and seek. Beyond here Bartons had a riding stable where we used to go on a Saturday for a half hour ride for 2/6d, 5s for an hour. Pat Barton, the owner, was Irish and had a metal hip. We were all quite frightened of him as he was very intimidating, and controlled the more wayward horses with a whip. His children John and Jane mainly used to take the rides out. They were both as feisty as their father, but Mrs Barton was a much more amenable soul. I remember falling off virtually every week but it never seemed to put me off.
Housing development started in the 1950s. The first bungalows were built down Manor Way then along Manor Close. These building sites were great places to play and we used to purloin bits of old equipment – planks and tarpaulins and the like, to make camps. At the end of Manor Close was Mr Kirk’s farm. Mr Kirk kept pigs and chickens and showed me how he used to kill the chickens quickly by wringing their necks. We used to help him muck the pigs out – all except the boar which was too dangerous to get in the pen with.
The banks of the stream that ran alongside his property was riddled with holes. If you sat quietly for long enough you’d spot water voles coming out. They were very common then.
I went to primary school at Lancing Prep, which was behind the church in South Street.
View Larger Map
The headmistress when I first went there was Mrs Rees, then Miss Kirk took over and was there until (I believe) the school closed in the 1960s. Mrs Pell was another teacher that I remember with great fondness. There were only two main classrooms and a small outside area where we could play. For more vigorous activity we used to be taken in a crocodile down to the beach green. The school was very small – probably no more than 20 or so pupils – and probably kept going in great part by the Johnson family of which May, Pauline, Philip, Tony, Wendy and Ann were all there at one time together. I think the youngest one, Caroline, never got to the school because it had closed by then.
One thing I don’t remember, which is surprising as we used to ride up that way a lot, was the dew pond up by the clump. Is this a recent development, or is my memory here at fault?
Regards,
Jan Barwick (nee Stonley)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My Reply..
Hello Jan
This was a lovely surprise to receive your memories. Thank you very much.
I will be very pleased to add them to the existing collection.
A small family coincidence is that my wife's mother lived at a bungalow opposite the park in the mid 1930's for short time. Later she worked for the Weeburs at their glassworks.
My wife (her name is also Jan) asked about the church school you mention, is that the building on the north side of St Michaels Church.
(You probably know that you can view it on Google maps)
The Dewpond was relatively recently restored, the first time in 1991, and again around 2000, with occasional repairs and maintenance up to the present.
I have heard mentioned that the girl guides used to make camp fires on the site when it was just a forgotten hollow in the ground.
___________________________________________________________________________
Jan replies..
The church was the one a few yards down from the Farmers’ Pub . I couldn’t remember its name (the school didn’t have anything to do with the church as far as I can remember, certainly never had services there – we just used the rooms behind) but I had a look on Google street view and it’s right next door to the Circle Garage. It’s an imposing building with a gabled frontage and a narrow spire on the left hand side. Not to be confused with the Methodist church of St Michaels which is further down.
Funny your comments about the Weeburs. I had no idea he had a glassworks, but I guess when I was a child and they lived next door he was already retired. He was quite a grumpy old thing.
Was your wife’s mother in Manor Road – the one that runs up to the Sussex Potter? I remember we used to play with Keith and Robert Pudd who used to live there (in a bungalow in Manor Road, not at the Potter) and who also went to Lancing Prep. My brother Derek used to work in the Potter (then the Corner House) in his long vacations when he was at Cambridge University. After they’d converted it I also worked there behind the bar in the vacations. Other places I worked in on Saturdays and in the holidays were the laundry in (I think South Street) although I hated ironing handkerchiefs so much I only lasted a week, and the Mermaid on the beach green. I was waitressing there in 1966 during the World Cup and remember rushing home on my bike and arriving home shortly before the ‘they think it’s all over.. it is now’ moment. In my childhood a Mr and Mrs Booth ran the Mermaid for a while. Their daughter Janet invited me to her 7th birthday party and I fell over on the concrete strip that ran around the house and cut my knee to the extent that I needed six stitches. Still got the scar.
Glad my memories of the dewpond were correct. I was a fanatic natural historian and always made a beeline for anywhere wildlife rich, so I’d certainly have been there with my net and jamjars. One place we used to love was a fantastically clear pond at the junction where the road to the old tollbridge split from the Coombes road, on the airport side. It was quite deep and full of water weed. I had a look on Google earth but it looks like it’s been filled in. The whole of the south side of the road between that junction and Mash Barn Lane was always very marshy. There used to be a lot of travellers that camped in a layby there.
I’d love to hear any more of your wife’s memories. I have such strong recollections of a very happy childhood in the village.
Thursday, 30 July 2009
Story 17 from Brenda Grover
In Reply to Alan Brenda sends this story..
Reading your Lancing history, i have just come back to live here, and i saw your parents were friends of my Uncle Pearce and Aunty Mildred. I love being back here and just walking around, brings back so many memories of such a wonderful childhood, and what a wonderful place to live.
My sons who are 35 & 37, grew up here, and they are always saying thankyou for a wonderful childhood. With as you say the beach and downs. I went up the Lancing Ring after the storm, and cried as my great grandfather helped to plant those trees, and i knocked at the door of church villa , and asked if i could look around the old family house, wonderful so many memories. I love Lancing, it has got a bit more larger,but in a way has not changed at all. Thank you again for your write up.
I live Penhill now but used to live North Lancing, and went to North Lancing primary school with Miss Tait and Miss Humphries, I remember Mr Stear.
Thank you again for a nice and good read.
See this and other stories on the Tithing Times website
0
Reading your Lancing history, i have just come back to live here, and i saw your parents were friends of my Uncle Pearce and Aunty Mildred. I love being back here and just walking around, brings back so many memories of such a wonderful childhood, and what a wonderful place to live.
My sons who are 35 & 37, grew up here, and they are always saying thankyou for a wonderful childhood. With as you say the beach and downs. I went up the Lancing Ring after the storm, and cried as my great grandfather helped to plant those trees, and i knocked at the door of church villa , and asked if i could look around the old family house, wonderful so many memories. I love Lancing, it has got a bit more larger,but in a way has not changed at all. Thank you again for your write up.
I live Penhill now but used to live North Lancing, and went to North Lancing primary school with Miss Tait and Miss Humphries, I remember Mr Stear.
Thank you again for a nice and good read.
See this and other stories on the Tithing Times website
0
Sunday, 31 May 2009
Story 16 from Rose (Marg) Moloney
This lovely recollection has just been sent in. We thank you Marg
I was a neighbour of Paul Kidger in the 1950s and 60s in Ring Road and remember the family well – Lyn was in my class at N Lancing Primary School. I also remember the dog walking old lady who would bleat ‘ Kiltie, Kiltie ‘ which the dog ignored.
I was part of the St James the Less Players, a church drama group, which started my career on the boards.
The Downs,The Manor, The Park, The Clump, The Chalkpit..The Woods The Beach..were all special places in our wonderful Sussex childhood.
Our teachers were dedicated – I am sure Paul will remember Pop Stear, Miss Tait, Miss Laugham, Mr Cox !
Hill Barn Farm which Paul mentions had utterly vanished when I went for a look in 2005…odd because though it was a wreck in the Bartons time it had been the Lancing College Shepherds farmhouse and was a sturdy ancient house. In a way I was relieved – it was a place that featured in bad dreams for me, as a teen I had seen horses in dark barns on filth there. But…a landmark gone…………everyone has gone now what a migrant generation we were…
In a folk club in Somerset I met a comedian who had grown up in Lancing pre-War till 1950.
He remembered Lancing at War – and Canadian Soldiers building Ring Road !, he also recovered from an adder bite on The Downs which brought back memories of stepping accidentally on one in 1959. They were definitely a hazard – we were always building camps, rolling on the grass etc, and must have been near them.
Nov 5th was hugely important, Ring Road kids built a communal bonfire and we shared our fireworks. Early on the Russell family who left late 50s, made jacket potatoes for us in the ashes.
Peter Russell has become an author and speaker on Green issues and meditation ( Title The Gaia Hypothesis ).
It was a pagan event really and kindled my love of pagan fire ceremonies. Trick or treat we never heard of. It was a road of children then and we played outside all the time. Beach picnics in the summer and The Mermaid was another fixed point in our infant geography. There was an innocent small summer fairground of a roundabout, swing-boats and something else – it was lovely to see my own son when he was small enjoying these in 1982 they were still going.
The Park or Manor was much larger then and the focus was a superb Georgian Manor House – that came down with the Tythe Barn – in the 60’s, there were terrible losses before the Grade 1 and 2 listings came in.
My father was active in the Community Association and I recall delivering an Xmas box to a coastguard cottage on the seafront – also the real poverty there.
Since I left I have researched the area and realized there was a Roman Temple on Lancing Ring where we often played, and a Roman Villa in The Street, and a Saxon Graveyard in The Woods. The history of the old track behind Ring Road goes back to Stonehenge times at least 6000 years.
I also now know Lancing grew exotic fruits and flowers to sell in London and was famed for convalescence homes. The railway works destroyed the Market Gardens and were a short-lived industry, closing after a few decades, leaving rows of terrace houses where lilies and grapes had grown. Our history teachers were ignorant of all this and probably still are.
Overshadowing us all imperceptibly was the War – all our parents had been involved and were busy establishing new lives, but it loomed over us. Then we all left……..
We sold the family home in 1991 after Mum died, Dad having died in 1978. Mrs Ward I think must have gone but she was there in 2000. A Mr C. Morris lives still in the road who may be Clive – part of a family who lived there in my time.
A friend was John Robinson who I saw on the news is a councillor in Shoreham - and I would like to contact Stephen Buchanan from primary School Days….
PART 2
The Lancing Festival was our family name for an event that my father, Pat Moloney, organised annually on the Whitsun Bank holiday in May. This was a highlight of our year in the 1950s and 60s. It was held on The Manor in North Lancing. The Bran Tub was a huge favourite and I recall the days before the Big Day wrapping small gifts which were then hidden in sawdust in the barrel. I always remember Festival days as sunny, the smell of cut grass still brings back memories of the green turf of The Park. There were stalls and competitions, raffles, pony rides and tombola. In the afternoon there were races. One year I won the running race for girls of my age – the prizes were gift tokens to spend at Edlows, the stationers. One year Dad went modern – the Red Arrows flew over, there were barrels of ale and a spit roast, and the venue was The Reck or Recreation ground in S Lancing. It wasn’t the same – next year it was back at The Manor.
Friends of our family were The Wrenches – Ted was one of the bank managers in the village and Pat was a Commissioner for Girl Guides. The Red House was their Victorian home near St James’ church bearing on one wall the mysterious sign Ancient Lights. 40 years after they moved on I met again Tony Wrench the eldest son of the four : website : www.thatroundhouse.com
As a boy Tony caught snakes on The Downs, there were Grass Snakes as well as Adders, and he kept them in an aquarium by the front door to welcome visitors. ( One year they came back from holiday to find the aquarium empty. Despite a few nervous nights in the house, no snakes were ever found !) However they were Methodists and our social life revolved around St James the C of E church. The Fete, the annual church garden party, was held in the vicarage garden which had an interesting cave facing the front door, that we children liked to explore… I was surprised to read years later in a Readers Digest compendium that Lancing Parish Vicarage garden was unique in having an Easter Tomb with Stone. Odd that The Vicar, as we called him, knew nothing about it and kept bikes there !
Only occasionally did we find out the story of the war adventures of men in the village. One man, reader of the lesson in church, had a monotonous voice that drove us mad – later we found out he had spent years in a German prisoner of war camp – enough to flatten anyone’s voice. I recall seeing Mr Faltineck collapsed in the road, outside a club called Sosybah my mother helped run. He was a Polish airman in the RAF in The War and had stayed on. The ambulance took him away but he was already dead.
“Who lived in The Manor House ?”, I asked my father who was a solicitor in the village and held the deeds of the estate of the Carr Lloyds, the last family to live there. It was a shock to learn that the last Lord of the Manor committed suicide in 1919. Was that to do with the first World War ? That too still cast a shadow on lives in the village. In 1975 I visited Miss Laugham who had a Hansel and Gretel type cottage in the woods at Hoe Court by The College. She had been a witch as well in my childhood mind when in 1955 aged 6 I was to enter her class at Lancing CP School and refused to go. Now retired she had mellowed. Even so it seemed odd to be drinking sherry with Miss Laugham. I looked at a photograph of a young naval officer in her lounge – and she told me he had been her fiancee, killed in 1918. She had never married. There were so many older women who stayed single in my childhood, the men had been lost in World War 1. But the greatest casualty has been the loss of innocence since those wonderful days in Sussex after World War 2…………..
Marg (Rose) Moloney
I was a neighbour of Paul Kidger in the 1950s and 60s in Ring Road and remember the family well – Lyn was in my class at N Lancing Primary School. I also remember the dog walking old lady who would bleat ‘ Kiltie, Kiltie ‘ which the dog ignored.
I was part of the St James the Less Players, a church drama group, which started my career on the boards.
The Downs,The Manor, The Park, The Clump, The Chalkpit..The Woods The Beach..were all special places in our wonderful Sussex childhood.
Our teachers were dedicated – I am sure Paul will remember Pop Stear, Miss Tait, Miss Laugham, Mr Cox !
Hill Barn Farm which Paul mentions had utterly vanished when I went for a look in 2005…odd because though it was a wreck in the Bartons time it had been the Lancing College Shepherds farmhouse and was a sturdy ancient house. In a way I was relieved – it was a place that featured in bad dreams for me, as a teen I had seen horses in dark barns on filth there. But…a landmark gone…………everyone has gone now what a migrant generation we were…
In a folk club in Somerset I met a comedian who had grown up in Lancing pre-War till 1950.
He remembered Lancing at War – and Canadian Soldiers building Ring Road !, he also recovered from an adder bite on The Downs which brought back memories of stepping accidentally on one in 1959. They were definitely a hazard – we were always building camps, rolling on the grass etc, and must have been near them.
Nov 5th was hugely important, Ring Road kids built a communal bonfire and we shared our fireworks. Early on the Russell family who left late 50s, made jacket potatoes for us in the ashes.
Peter Russell has become an author and speaker on Green issues and meditation ( Title The Gaia Hypothesis ).
It was a pagan event really and kindled my love of pagan fire ceremonies. Trick or treat we never heard of. It was a road of children then and we played outside all the time. Beach picnics in the summer and The Mermaid was another fixed point in our infant geography. There was an innocent small summer fairground of a roundabout, swing-boats and something else – it was lovely to see my own son when he was small enjoying these in 1982 they were still going.
The Park or Manor was much larger then and the focus was a superb Georgian Manor House – that came down with the Tythe Barn – in the 60’s, there were terrible losses before the Grade 1 and 2 listings came in.
My father was active in the Community Association and I recall delivering an Xmas box to a coastguard cottage on the seafront – also the real poverty there.
Since I left I have researched the area and realized there was a Roman Temple on Lancing Ring where we often played, and a Roman Villa in The Street, and a Saxon Graveyard in The Woods. The history of the old track behind Ring Road goes back to Stonehenge times at least 6000 years.
I also now know Lancing grew exotic fruits and flowers to sell in London and was famed for convalescence homes. The railway works destroyed the Market Gardens and were a short-lived industry, closing after a few decades, leaving rows of terrace houses where lilies and grapes had grown. Our history teachers were ignorant of all this and probably still are.
Overshadowing us all imperceptibly was the War – all our parents had been involved and were busy establishing new lives, but it loomed over us. Then we all left……..
We sold the family home in 1991 after Mum died, Dad having died in 1978. Mrs Ward I think must have gone but she was there in 2000. A Mr C. Morris lives still in the road who may be Clive – part of a family who lived there in my time.
A friend was John Robinson who I saw on the news is a councillor in Shoreham - and I would like to contact Stephen Buchanan from primary School Days….
PART 2
The Lancing Festival was our family name for an event that my father, Pat Moloney, organised annually on the Whitsun Bank holiday in May. This was a highlight of our year in the 1950s and 60s. It was held on The Manor in North Lancing. The Bran Tub was a huge favourite and I recall the days before the Big Day wrapping small gifts which were then hidden in sawdust in the barrel. I always remember Festival days as sunny, the smell of cut grass still brings back memories of the green turf of The Park. There were stalls and competitions, raffles, pony rides and tombola. In the afternoon there were races. One year I won the running race for girls of my age – the prizes were gift tokens to spend at Edlows, the stationers. One year Dad went modern – the Red Arrows flew over, there were barrels of ale and a spit roast, and the venue was The Reck or Recreation ground in S Lancing. It wasn’t the same – next year it was back at The Manor.
Friends of our family were The Wrenches – Ted was one of the bank managers in the village and Pat was a Commissioner for Girl Guides. The Red House was their Victorian home near St James’ church bearing on one wall the mysterious sign Ancient Lights. 40 years after they moved on I met again Tony Wrench the eldest son of the four : website : www.thatroundhouse.com
As a boy Tony caught snakes on The Downs, there were Grass Snakes as well as Adders, and he kept them in an aquarium by the front door to welcome visitors. ( One year they came back from holiday to find the aquarium empty. Despite a few nervous nights in the house, no snakes were ever found !) However they were Methodists and our social life revolved around St James the C of E church. The Fete, the annual church garden party, was held in the vicarage garden which had an interesting cave facing the front door, that we children liked to explore… I was surprised to read years later in a Readers Digest compendium that Lancing Parish Vicarage garden was unique in having an Easter Tomb with Stone. Odd that The Vicar, as we called him, knew nothing about it and kept bikes there !
Only occasionally did we find out the story of the war adventures of men in the village. One man, reader of the lesson in church, had a monotonous voice that drove us mad – later we found out he had spent years in a German prisoner of war camp – enough to flatten anyone’s voice. I recall seeing Mr Faltineck collapsed in the road, outside a club called Sosybah my mother helped run. He was a Polish airman in the RAF in The War and had stayed on. The ambulance took him away but he was already dead.
“Who lived in The Manor House ?”, I asked my father who was a solicitor in the village and held the deeds of the estate of the Carr Lloyds, the last family to live there. It was a shock to learn that the last Lord of the Manor committed suicide in 1919. Was that to do with the first World War ? That too still cast a shadow on lives in the village. In 1975 I visited Miss Laugham who had a Hansel and Gretel type cottage in the woods at Hoe Court by The College. She had been a witch as well in my childhood mind when in 1955 aged 6 I was to enter her class at Lancing CP School and refused to go. Now retired she had mellowed. Even so it seemed odd to be drinking sherry with Miss Laugham. I looked at a photograph of a young naval officer in her lounge – and she told me he had been her fiancee, killed in 1918. She had never married. There were so many older women who stayed single in my childhood, the men had been lost in World War 1. But the greatest casualty has been the loss of innocence since those wonderful days in Sussex after World War 2…………..
Marg (Rose) Moloney
Tuesday, 14 October 2008
Story 15 from Alan John Marshall
Thanks to Alan for this marvellous account:
I was living in Sompting Road up until the mid-1960s. Myrtle Stores were at 109, just up the road from Myrtle Road. I remember so much about Boundstone Lane, and the school being built on the land which my father worked as a Market Gardener. In the War, and just after, they had an orchard there, with lots of gooseberry bushes under the apple trees; daffodils in the spring time; and I used to go finding birds' eggs along the line of elm hedge, beside the twitten - that ran along the northern edge of Dad's gardens.
Middle Boundstone Lane then was just a true "lane" with a rough surface, big puddles in the rainy times. I was born right at the top of Upper Boundstone Lane, just below the cemetery.
Also, just at the end of the War, when I must have been about 4 1/2, I attended the South Lancing Primary School. That was a very unhappy time for me. I remember the air raid shelters, they were under the northern ramp of what is now the railway bridge. Frightening places, closed by big double doors sloping up the side of the ramp.
A teacher there, a woman whom I was frightened of, had us lined up for punishment, for trespassing on the grass slopes of the ramp. I remember something like having to dip our fingers in mustard water, and suck on our fingers. Was this just a figment of my imagination? Or did it really happen? I cannot be sure. Anyway, the fear of that school, and the screaming from me in the mornings at having to go to school made Mum keep me at home until I was 5, then they got me into North Lancing Primary School, under Miss Daisy Humphreys. That was much better.
That is all I can come up with right now, but if anyone is interested and wishes to connect with me further, you can use my email address, anakial@hotmail.com and let me know who you are.
Alan
8th October 2008
Alan adds..
My parents, Peter and Cecily Marshall, were very close friends of Percy and Mildred Grover. The Grovers had their nursery at the corner of Boundstone Lane and the "top" road (South east corner), with several glass houses there. After retirement, Percy and Mildred moved up to near Storrington.
My dad was from a very old family of Lancing, and Mum's parents ran Myrtle Store for several years. Dad's parents had the semi-detached houses 2 doors up built in 1912, and the space between the back of those houses and Myrtle Crescent was market garden too.
We had a huge bonfire in Middle Road, each Nov 5th. One time, I was only a very little boy, my chip basket full of fireworks, was put "for safety" down by the fence, "out of the way." But someone lit a roman candle on the post above, and my whole basket full went up at once. I was so sad and in tears for remainder of the evening.
Alan wrote further
Mum died on Dec 23rd 2000, as a consequence of a road accident in Sompting Road. She was knocked off her bicycle. Quite an active cyclist was Mum, at 86 yrs old. Dad survived her by almost 2 years, and spent that time in Ibiza with my sister.
Dad was related to the Bushys, Fullers, Lishers and Charles Colbourne who was a very respected butcher in Brighton (Chas. Colbourne). Colbourne's drapery store used to be at the top of Penhill Road.
Dad's aunt Mary lived at Skirwith, the market garden which occupied the site on the corner of Crabtree Lane and Grinstead Lane. One of their greenhouses had a grape vine growing in it. I understand that prior to the late 1800s grapes were grown extensively in Sussex, because of the high sunlight intensity between the Downs and the sea.
Then improved sea transport meant that imported wines and grapes from France made the grape industry of Sussex unviable, and the "new" crop of tomatoes became very popular.
Having grown tomatoes virtually all his life, and with a good reputation for sweet and tasty produce, Dad continued in his retirement to grow tomatoes in his little back yard garden at Cokeham Lane.
He was born at The Rowans, 113 Sompting Road and told me in those years there were very few other houses in Sompting Road or Boundstone Lane. Indeed, I remember when both sides of Upper Boundstone Lane were orchards. (That is the area between Crabtree Lane and the Upper Brighton Road.) The last house on the right hand side at that time was occupied by McIntyre, one of the coal merchants. Boundstone Lane at that point was still a muddy, puddley, unsealed road surface.
A pretty good job of re-building the road was done, around 1951/2 I would say, because I left North Lancing Primary School in 1952 and it had been done whilst I was there. The foundation of the road surface was a mixture of old house bricks, flints, rubble down to a depth of approx. 1 1/2 feet. They used a steam roller for surfacing.
I attended Worthing High School from 1952 to 1957(Dec).
Editor note:
I emailed Alan on 16/12/2011 to establish he is available for correspondence. He has confirmed this.
He added this note to his profile:
Son of Peter John Marshall,market gardener, who was son of Percy George Marshall. Numerous family links: Lisher, Fuller, Grover, Bushby, Long, Colbourne, Judd.
I now live in Tasmania. Born 1941. Attended North Lancing Primary School, Worthing High School.
I was living in Sompting Road up until the mid-1960s. Myrtle Stores were at 109, just up the road from Myrtle Road. I remember so much about Boundstone Lane, and the school being built on the land which my father worked as a Market Gardener. In the War, and just after, they had an orchard there, with lots of gooseberry bushes under the apple trees; daffodils in the spring time; and I used to go finding birds' eggs along the line of elm hedge, beside the twitten - that ran along the northern edge of Dad's gardens.
Middle Boundstone Lane then was just a true "lane" with a rough surface, big puddles in the rainy times. I was born right at the top of Upper Boundstone Lane, just below the cemetery.
Also, just at the end of the War, when I must have been about 4 1/2, I attended the South Lancing Primary School. That was a very unhappy time for me. I remember the air raid shelters, they were under the northern ramp of what is now the railway bridge. Frightening places, closed by big double doors sloping up the side of the ramp.
A teacher there, a woman whom I was frightened of, had us lined up for punishment, for trespassing on the grass slopes of the ramp. I remember something like having to dip our fingers in mustard water, and suck on our fingers. Was this just a figment of my imagination? Or did it really happen? I cannot be sure. Anyway, the fear of that school, and the screaming from me in the mornings at having to go to school made Mum keep me at home until I was 5, then they got me into North Lancing Primary School, under Miss Daisy Humphreys. That was much better.
That is all I can come up with right now, but if anyone is interested and wishes to connect with me further, you can use my email address, anakial@hotmail.com and let me know who you are.
Alan
8th October 2008
Alan adds..
My parents, Peter and Cecily Marshall, were very close friends of Percy and Mildred Grover. The Grovers had their nursery at the corner of Boundstone Lane and the "top" road (South east corner), with several glass houses there. After retirement, Percy and Mildred moved up to near Storrington.
My dad was from a very old family of Lancing, and Mum's parents ran Myrtle Store for several years. Dad's parents had the semi-detached houses 2 doors up built in 1912, and the space between the back of those houses and Myrtle Crescent was market garden too.
We had a huge bonfire in Middle Road, each Nov 5th. One time, I was only a very little boy, my chip basket full of fireworks, was put "for safety" down by the fence, "out of the way." But someone lit a roman candle on the post above, and my whole basket full went up at once. I was so sad and in tears for remainder of the evening.
Alan wrote further
Mum died on Dec 23rd 2000, as a consequence of a road accident in Sompting Road. She was knocked off her bicycle. Quite an active cyclist was Mum, at 86 yrs old. Dad survived her by almost 2 years, and spent that time in Ibiza with my sister.
Dad was related to the Bushys, Fullers, Lishers and Charles Colbourne who was a very respected butcher in Brighton (Chas. Colbourne). Colbourne's drapery store used to be at the top of Penhill Road.
Dad's aunt Mary lived at Skirwith, the market garden which occupied the site on the corner of Crabtree Lane and Grinstead Lane. One of their greenhouses had a grape vine growing in it. I understand that prior to the late 1800s grapes were grown extensively in Sussex, because of the high sunlight intensity between the Downs and the sea.
Then improved sea transport meant that imported wines and grapes from France made the grape industry of Sussex unviable, and the "new" crop of tomatoes became very popular.
Having grown tomatoes virtually all his life, and with a good reputation for sweet and tasty produce, Dad continued in his retirement to grow tomatoes in his little back yard garden at Cokeham Lane.
 |
| The Rowans, 113 Sompting Road |
He was born at The Rowans, 113 Sompting Road and told me in those years there were very few other houses in Sompting Road or Boundstone Lane. Indeed, I remember when both sides of Upper Boundstone Lane were orchards. (That is the area between Crabtree Lane and the Upper Brighton Road.) The last house on the right hand side at that time was occupied by McIntyre, one of the coal merchants. Boundstone Lane at that point was still a muddy, puddley, unsealed road surface.
A pretty good job of re-building the road was done, around 1951/2 I would say, because I left North Lancing Primary School in 1952 and it had been done whilst I was there. The foundation of the road surface was a mixture of old house bricks, flints, rubble down to a depth of approx. 1 1/2 feet. They used a steam roller for surfacing.
I attended Worthing High School from 1952 to 1957(Dec).
Editor note:
I emailed Alan on 16/12/2011 to establish he is available for correspondence. He has confirmed this.
He added this note to his profile:
Son of Peter John Marshall,market gardener, who was son of Percy George Marshall. Numerous family links: Lisher, Fuller, Grover, Bushby, Long, Colbourne, Judd.
I now live in Tasmania. Born 1941. Attended North Lancing Primary School, Worthing High School.
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