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Beckside memories

Here are memories of Beckside and the local area. You can start now: Add your own Memory of Beckside or a Beckside photo.

 

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Memories of Cumbria

My Childhood

This mill is owned by my Aunt and Uncle. I spent many happy holidays up in Beckside and will always have fond memories of the beautiful old mill. Although I was always scared of the "ghosts"! This photo is before my time though, I wasn't born until 1977.

First Trip to Father's Hometown

My father Leslie Edgar Simpson Smith was born in Askam-In-Furness at Greenscoe Cottages in 1902 and he passed away in Canada in 2003. My grandfather William Smith was also born in Askam in the Vulcan Hotel which his father and mother, Hezekiah Cook Smith, and Hannah Simpson Smith ran.  My two sisters and myself came there in May of 2004 to see where dad came from and met the now owners of the Vulcan Hotel.  We tried to find the graves of my great grandfather, Hezekiah and my dad's baby sister Myrtle Smith. The church cemetery was very overgrown, probably from the winter, so we walked around and talked to a few people and looked for my Aunt Ivy and Uncle Tom's house on 5 School Street. The library was closed so couldn't get in to see if there was any memory things on the Smiths and Simpsons such as the beautiful stone wall my grandfather and his uncle, Joe Simpson, built. We had a nice warm day there and... Read more

The Green – 1952-53 (Seven Years Old)

I come from an RAF family that travelled across the globe until, in 1964 we ended up in Australia. Though english by birth, I am now an Australian, but I have fond memories of some parts of England where I grew up, especially The Green. I was six years old. One day, I was told we were going to Millom, which turned out to be an RAF base near the wilds of Cumbria, in the north of England, where my father was to be an instructor. We didn’t live on the base but at a village about ten miles out of town called The Green, which was very rural. We were on the edge of the Lake District, perhaps the most beautiful part of England. The neighbouring hills were Black Combe, White Combe and White Hall Knott. The house itself was stone with a tiny patch of lawn to the side, behind a stone wall that protected it from the road. To my recollection it was 100-200... Read more

The Holborn Hill Evacuee.

And Black Combe c1955
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The view is looking over Holborn Hill towards Black Combe. Holborn Hill is old Millom, the new part of Millom was built when iron ore was discovered in 1855 at Hodbarrow and the iron works was built and Hodbarrow mines opened. It then became a prosperous town with a population rising to 10,000 people. My memory is of Holborn Hill and a five year old girl who was evacuated there at the beginning of the war. She arrived at Millom station from Dartford after having a rough time at an evacuee collection centre. She was taken to live with a family in Holborn Hill.   
The little girl was called Betty Sherwood and in later years, she was now married, had tried to trace her wartime family. She and her husband had travelled from Yorkshire, where she now lived, to Millom to find them. Unfortunately she could not remember many details of the house she stayed at or the family name only that she had had many happy years... Read more

The Old Co-Op.

Wellington Street c1955
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I was born in Market Street in 1939. Later, because of the war, my mum left me in Millom for my grandad and grandma Kirby to look after me. Mum went back to be with my dad in heavily bombed Manchester. I spent the war years here and they were very happy years. After the war I went back to Manchester, but came back to Millom for all my school holidays. Wellington Street was a nice shopping street and I used to go to the Co-op with my grandad and grandma and watch money catapulted from the counter across the shop to the office and then the return journey of our change and divi book. We used to go to the Co-op bakery just as the newly baked bread had come out of the ovens each day (just like mother used to bake). We would take the bread home and my grandma would cut me a thick crust and spread butter on it. That taste cannot be repeated these days.... Read more

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