When I was young

This is a memory my Granny told me;

her first job was in a Haberdashery shop (near where Bygones is now). She was 15 so it would have been just after WW1. She had a long walk to work, she was growing up on farm at Daccombe, the lady who owned the shop stood on the doorstep looking at her watch, if you were a minute late you were in trouble!!!

The era would have been about 1920 though after the first world war.

 

photo proof

 

My Granny was Mildred (Milly) Emma Fanny Keen and she married Ronald Rogers in 1933.  They went on to run a Butchers (now called Palks) and by all accounts did really well, they then went into farming.

My Granny has a tree in St Marychurch graveyard.  Deb M

 

The Grange photo by martyn strangeEvery Whit weekend we visited my Devon Grandparents and took them out for the day.  We always ended up at The Grange on Babbacombe Downs for a meal. Grand-dad and my father always had the mixed grill, Nanna breaded plaice, chips and peas with a Mackeson.  It was probably the only alcoholic drink she had all year.  annon

 

 

74 Babbacombe Road. Photo by Glynis Castle Elliot.

74 Babbacombe Road. Photo by Glynis Castle Elliot.

My parents had a cafe in Babbacombe during the war which was turned in to a gift shop during the fifties and sixties. I grew up in a “village” atmosphere which was Babbacombe then.  When I am trying to get to sleep I walk through Babbacombe of that time…..Glynis E

 

 

 

In the 1950’s and 1960’s

……… for 9d or 1/6d people could go and see two films and continue watching them as the programme ran again.  For those who didn’t have the price of a ticket, they might be let in through the fire door at the back by friends who went to spend a penny once the show had started.  The manager was given the name ‘Torchie’ because when the children made a noise he would come down the aisle with his torch to silence the misbehaving.

Fore Street the Tudor is on the right.A regular stop off on the way to Saturday morning pictures was the Tudor Cafe next door to buy penny stalesies, this was a bag full of yesterdays buns for a penny.

 

 

 

Reddenhill Road …… always used the cut through from Babbacombe Road would come out at the NatWest building opposite was a sweet shop.  Always bought my sweets here as you could get 4 chews for a farthing, sherbet, and lots of other lovely sweets.  My parents sold sweets but far too posh for me.  Then there was Hawkes Chemist owned by my friend’s father.

Babbacombe Creamery where as a 10 yr old I bought a tub of clotted cream and ate the lot in one sitting there and then and was promptly sick.

Reddenhill Library at the back of the newsagents with Grey Cars opposite.

Everywhere in those days was buzzing.  A fantastic atmosphere in the summer. Glynis E

 

 

Uncle Arthur went to have his eyes tested and I said I wanted mine testing too!  I pestered the life out of my parents, I’d never been in an opticians and so they said, “OK, we will make you an appointment”.   So off I went.

 

Anyway, the upshot of all this was that the optician said to me – I was about eight at the time – “Please read the card” so I did as I was told and tried to “read” the card, i.e. make words out of it.  So I said gobbledegook!  And the optician was seriously worried about my sight!  So he told my parents I needed to see a specialist, and I saw a specialist who had more sense, he said “Tell me the letters,” so I could manage that.  “There’s nothing wrong at all with your daughter’s eyesight … “ he said.  My parents weren’t best pleased with me, but I explained I was only doing as I was asked, to “read” the board in front of me!    But they were seriously not amused!

Margaret Powling

 

 

 

Come on get your memory cap on and let us have a few words……..eventually this page will mop up all those real or silly, humourous or just plain daft stories at the back of the memory bank.

Going to the shops or cinema, visiting elderly relatives or scrumming around in the woods or the beach.

Please send them in, names do not have to be published if it is too embarrassing.

 

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