The dead don't leave us

Parades were held in our somewhere town as a way of funding local hospitals.
Whilst driving past our war memorial then turning right down into the dip of Law Lane I see them in my mind's eye. Women wearing sweeping long dresses and wide brimmed hats.Men and young boys in suits and flat caps whilst bunting floats gently in the air of my yesterday town.
Even the little Red Cross Nurses(maids all in white with bonnets to match) are there on that 1915 day raising ten pounds and ten shillings for a similar hospital cause.
The oldest contributor I spoke to in our yesterday town was born in 1904. She shared with me how she was christened,confirmed and married at St Mary's Parish church.
Her father worked in a tannery but died when she was seven.
She started school at the age of three; her memories included structured classes including arithmetic,scripture,dictation and keep fit classes; leaving school aged thirteen.
She told how her first job was in the boot and shoe industry which lasted only weeks such was a dislike. Her options were limited regarding employment but she said she enjoyed working in a clothing factory in the next town;walking several miles each way. She helped to make men and boys suits and was paid four shillings and sixpence for a fifty four hour week.

whilst one of my earliest memories in our somewhere town is the crowning of our May Queen at Banks Park hers was of ladies making pillow lace in the yards; where thatched cottages stood nodding in a square.

My later years in our somewhere town have taught me to love what I see as the baker,postman,milk-man with his horse and chimney sweep ignore my passing but smile in my yesterday world of today.