Lives less Ordinary

Everyday story of town and countryfolk told to the author of Lives less Ordinary. Over a hundred years of history covered; including WW1 and WW2.

 

Lives less Ordinary

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Those hours on that day, in spite of the passing years, still sit securely and sadly in my mind. Me in my classroom at Meads Junior School, Harold...

The next man who walked through our door

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It was surreal. As I stood with my mum and brothers at Wellingborough station waiting for mum's penfriend to arrive I felt nothing. Then I caught a...
Cherry

The next man who walked through our door

Image: 
It was surreal. As I stood with my mum and brothers at Wellingborough station waiting for mum's penfriend to arrive I felt nothing. Then I caught a...
Cherry

Lives less Ordinary

There was no time for talking and so the three of us ran back to the bus stop. Then we had time to talk as we waited. I thought about my dad again...

Lives less Ordinary

Finally, after our neighbours had re-arranged the furniture,scraped the remnants of cheese and tomato sandwiches and broken biscuits from a nearby...

Lives less Ordinary

How my mum felt-her own story. Pamela Field felt little emotion as she stood at the bus stop on that cold,dismal February morning. Appearances could...

Lives less Ordinary

And then she suddenly the day when she had taken her young children to the hospital. But when they reached the ward the Sister asked them to wait,...

Lives less Ordinary

And then she suddenly the day when she had taken her young children to the hospital. But when they reached the ward the Sister asked them to wait,...

My uncle was Head Gardener for Benjamin Disraeli

Roma Pearce, 1918 Father Conrad Rene, mother Edith Lydia, both of High Wycombe. Father worked as a foreman for a furniture maker whilst mother worked...
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Why it all began

I have always had an interest in social history and more importantly my ancestry; that feeling of knowing that I belonged. For years, I dreamed of...

At the age of ten I sold newspapers.

Mr Harry Bailey, 1918 (The following story, written by Mr Bailey, was given to me by his daughter). One of my earliest memories I have is at the age...