Things They are a Changing.

Life in the  village was very different, we had been used to privacy, here we had none.People walked past our door at all times of the day an night. A journey to the toilet could be embarrassing as the local children were often hanging around  outside, taking advantage of one of only two street lights in the village. Added to which we were often accompanied by someone in the other cubicles, this did not bother my brother and I too much if it was one of the local girls, that we held a penchant for. The other things that disturbed us was the fact that although there were only two street lights, and were not very bright. They did however manage to throw enough light as to disturb our sleep. Remember we had been used to pitch darkness. These problems were  overridden by the fact that we now had running water, electricity, friends to play with and we were much nearer to school                                                                                                                                 

Rakewood village consisted of 5 blocks 3  houses grouped around a bend In  the river All being on the north bank , two blocks to the east serving a very small woollen factory and the other three to the west they had once served a small Cotton Mill which was situated between the two groups. Both these mills were in operation at this time. The Cotton Mill ceasing production in 1956 and the Wool Mill up until the early 90,s.                                                                                                                                

My Roots

I have always threatened to write a book about my experiences which are many and varied, so those of you who find it interesting, perhaps you will become regular readers and just maybe take a look at my website. So here go's.

Born in Hope Hospital, Salford England, June 12th 1942, six week premature. Subsequently I spent the first three months of my life in an incubator. The day that I was taken home from the unit a bomb landed on It. you could say that I had a charmed life. This was to become a bit of a pattern. On this theme we had to be evacuated to the moors between Lancashire and Yorkshire because of yet another bomb.

The area we went to was out on the moors some eight miles from the small town of Littleborough, poulation at this time being approximately 2000. The nearest hamlet, which we had to pass through in order to reach "Longden End", the name of the house we had moved was called Rakewood, population 28.

Longden End was a large house built of local stone. Formerly the managers house for the local water works. It is set on the banks of a small brook in a steep valley. nearest neighbours were two farm houses one and a half miles in either direction. A lovely but isolated spot. It was going to prove an ideal place for my brother Peter and I to be brought up. The problems and they were many, my mother being a single parrent mainly had to deal with.

The house had no water, lighting, gas, telephone, electricity or sanitation. There was no transport,shop, street lights and no proper road surface..She had to work, as in those days there was no welfare. In fact she was a remarkable woman. On reflection I do not know how she managed.