Brothertoft memories
Here are memories of Brothertoft and the local area. You can start now: Add your own Memory of Brothertoft or a Brothertoft photo.
Happy Times
After I left school I was a porter at Langrick Station up until it closed. I have a painting of the last DMU leaving Langrick Station.
Happy Times
We lived at Kirton Fen went Hedgehogbridge school teachers were Miss Tooley and Miss Brewell. Happy times...
Fishing 1965 on The North Forty Drain
We all went to stop on a farm near Landgrick Road in the year 1965 for one week of fishing, we all came from Pinxton and South Normanton, Nottinghamshire and Derbyshire, catching loads of fish, bream, tench, pike, perch and eels. On the map it said Toft Tunnel, it was near a stone bridge, fishing on the North Forty foot bank and the fishing was great.
Peaceful Childhood
We lived at Langrick Station and I attended Hedgehog Bridge School - lots of memories of Miss Tooley and all the kids who lived in the area. It was a wonderful time in the 1950s. No school left now and not many of the people I knew either. If any of you read this, best wishes and happy memories.
Brothertoft Days
My grandparents, Charles Herbert and Maud Mary Epton, lived at 3 (later 11) Council Houses, Brothertoft, and my childhood holidays were always spent here. My dad was born in that house, as was his brother, and my grandparents must have lived there nigh on 50 years, and both of them, along with several other relatives, are buried in Brothertoft churchyard. Dad, Ira, and his little brother, Les, went to school at Hedgehog Bridge, a trek across the fields and through the churchyard to the North Forty Foot Bank every day, a walk we often took, past Pepperdines Farm and Cut End. The big hall was owned by Horace Robinson, previously belonging to the Sharpe family, and today run by Horace's son. At no 4 Council Houses (later 12) was Walt Epton the haulage lorry firm, and after they moved to Hubberts Bridge, Charlie Ullyatt. At no 3 were my grandparents, and no 2 - I don't know the name of the folks was there when I was little, though I... Read more
Memories of Lincolnshire
Langrick
I was born at Church Corner, Langrick, in one of a pair of tied cottages. My godparents lived next door. My mother was Joyce May Cargill, and she was living with her parents, Eva Kate and George Herbert White at the time of my birth. my father was Joseph William Cargill. He was in the Army, fighting in the second World War.
My paternal grandparents were Mary and John Perry Cargll. They lived a short distance away, along Armtree Road. There is not a trace of the little cottae where they brought up their large family.
The house where I was born on March 21st 1943 has now been converted into single dwelling. the old apple tree is still in the garden. There is still mistletoe growing in it.
My parents were married at Langrick Church. This is where my father and some of his brothers and sisters were baptised. I was baptised here too.
On January 21st 2007 my husband Keith and I... Read more
A Kirton Holme Boyhood .
I was born in a farmhouse called Bank House Farm on 20th Nov 1945. In 2 days I shall be 65. I was educated at Kirton Holme County Primary School. My teachers were Mrs Brown, Mrs Shawe, Mr R Tomblinson, and later headmaster Mr "Tommy" Hammond. Before my time, the headmaster was a Mr Barnfield, who was leader of the Home Guard, and I believe later went to Australia. I was number 5 of 6 children. My sisters were (are) Sylvia, Gwyneth, and Edna. My brothers are Bill and Dean. Boys I remember from scool were: David Brown, Brian Scarborough, Barry Williamson,Peter and Raymond Horry, Ken Twell, and the Kings; Brian, Peter, David, Edward. David Lunn and John Knight. Sorry if I missed anyone. Girls: Pamela Clay, Susan Henson, Daphny Pitts, Christine Cordley, the Halls, Mary, Margaret, Frances. Also Edward Hall, Elisabeth Quayle, and her sister whose name I forget. Michael Nunday and sister Beryl. Carol Twell. Again, sorry if I missed anyone. Tommy Hammond, the headmaster, was a very... Read more
Cattle Market
In our school holidays, I and one or two more used to go with cattle drovers, there were often a thousand Irish cattle arriving at the cattle dock on some Saturdays. The front of the herd would be at the Town Bridge as other cattle were still leaving the cattle dock. We would guard all the sidestreets and passageways. Cattle would be sold at the market, then were taken to various fields outside of town. One drover, Edger, had the foulest mouth you could imagine, another was one-armed Tom, it was rumoured he fell at Spalding Market, hit his head on the ground and it killed him. Tom Dixon was another drover all his working life, he was brought up in Jubilee Avenue. The roads and pavements were splattered with cow muck, you didn't want a poop scoop, a J C B would have been handy. .
Railway Horses
The railway horses were stabled on the Dock. One of the handlers was a man called White, who was the landlord of the Royal Oak pub in High Street. They would pull the wagons along the line where they were needed. It was strenuous work for the horses, I've seen them fall on their knees, straining to get the fully loaded wagons to start to roll; once they started to roll, the handler would quickly unhook the chain. They also worked on the Mussel Stage. When the cockles and mussels were unloaded off the boats onto the mussel stage, they were then loaded into the railway wagons. The horses then would pull them along the Mussel Stage, to a turntable on the stage, so they could turn the wagons to go across the road into the railway yard to be transported to various destinations. It was really hard work for the animals. It's a good job those days have passed.
Boston Blew Away Tottenham
Boston were on a roll in the 1955 F.A Cup. They beat Derby County 6-1 at Derby. In the next round we where drawn away to Tottenham Hotspur; great excitement filled the town. Special trains were laid on, to take the hundreds of supporters, most of us that used the Kings Head in Emery Lane put money in a kitty to buy some beer for the train journey. We marched down to the station like an army platoon, in a joyful mood, proudly displaying our rosettes. Cyril Burton, the landlord of the Kings Head, had borrowed a bugle off one of the fishermen who used his pub. Going through Welwyn Garden City it was a bit on the foggy side. We where told that Roy Scrupps from Wyberton had thrown a wreath on Peterboro Station as we passed through, Boston United were football rivals at that time. Soon as kick off started, Cyril Burton blew that bugle none stop, even at half time, he had large space to himself; as spectators moved away,... Read more
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