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Memories of Hullavington – People

by

Mary Greenman

(Taken from an article written by Mary Greenman  for the Oct/Nov 1998 edition of The Hullavington News)

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Perhaps it is due to the accelerated pace of life, but memories seem to grow increasingly precious. Taking a cross-section of recent village newsletters; chats on the pavement whilst watching village weddings; a Gibbs Lane street party; the changing face of our village - it becomes apparent that we are all hungry for memories.

I am well aware that there are many natives of the village and those that have been here longer, that would have much more stored away in their grey cells, but I hope these thoughts might bring pleasure to others as well as ourselves.

I am not Hullavington born and bred, but it certainly feels like it! Vin began life at Greens Farm, leaving there when he was four years old, moving to the further wing of Court Farm (the present Court House). Some of my earliest memories of this village that was to become my home include:

  •  Mr Lavington 'LAVVY', the village baker, who lived at what is now The Barken, Gibbs Lane.

  • The strange little figure of Vernon 'VERN', with cap over his eyes, long grey smock and welly-boots large enough for a man twice his size. He would walk with his feet almost at "quarter to three", pushing his cart through the street, filling it with grass from the banks for his goats (or was it calves? - and where did he live - the Post Office, or the Gables?)

  • Little Mrs. Neale (where Alvin, Angie Ayers and family live?) who regularly wore broderie anglaise petticoats over her black skirts, and her hat back-to-front. Her diminutive figure, clothed in a smock, seemed overpowered by the clothes wringer in the washhouse there. If you were thirsty, you would be offered a drink of Lucozade in a 'Seniors' sardine and tomato paste-pot. Newspapers were carefully preserved for tablecloths, the dear old soul forgetting that each day would bring forth another paper. We have part of an 1851 Manchester Guardian that originated in that cottage. Before marriage, when a young man, her husband Mr Bill Neale worked as a gardener at Buckingham Palace.

  • PC Smith, who was a typical village 'bobby' - a burly figure, who kept a watchful eye on village events. He had a number of places where he would wait for the unsuspecting cyclist - perhaps to be suddenly startled by a loud voice "Your lights". One of his "hide-aways" was in the laurel hedge on Court Farm (Court House) drive.

  • The Friday evening grass-cutting in the churchyard, involving others as well, but I can remember Mr Bob Clarke, Mr Jack Giles, Mr Alfie Nash. I can remember, too, Alfie's very little wife, walking up to clean the church.

  • Rev. Baker, who was regularly taken for a walk by his dog - he was a dear man.

  • 'Large' Mr Reg Bartlett, at the Forge - the village blacksmith.

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