Danehill, the Church c1955

Danehill Lodge

My Mother had come from London to visit her brother (Jack Hames)  who was working at Danehill Lodge, the name 'Pepper' were the people living there at the time.  A lovely wooden gate was the entrance to the garden and house. I remember a large kitchen with a billard room somewhere near. They had a friend who had the nickname of 'Blackie', tall blond man, very happy memories of these visits. Does anyone know of the 'Peppers' Not sure if 'Blackie' lived in Danehill or Fletching. If he worked on the land or was home on leave from the war. Is Danehill still standing? email: Hewitt245@aol.com

during www2 - were you called ''Blackie''

We had many summer holidays in this lovely village. My aunt and Uncle had moved here from Danehill, and lived firstly in the Reading Room. Jimmy Edwards lived in the village and he often opened the gymkanas in the summer. My brothers used to stay with the Auntie and Uncle, while I stayed one year with the Griffiths. Who owned the Farm machinery place at the fork in the road just on the edge of the village. A lovely young couple. I remember they had a little girl younger than me. Also alovely lady who came in and helped with the house, who was very kind. I peeked into the office one day and watched the secretary typing, I was fasinated and when I grew up also became a secretary! For three children who lived in London Fletching to us was Heaven! Now in our 60's we all three have very vivid happy memories of that time. A very tall blond chap who had the nickname 'Blackie' was a friend of the family. Does anyone know/remember him?
email: Hewitt245@aol.com

Horney Common

I have just read Juliet Baxter's memories about Woodstock. My mother bought Woodstock in 1946 for her mother to live in. She lived there and bred dogs until the 1960s. I have many happy memories of staying there as a child.
I have lots of photographs of Woodstock, including a postcard from, I think, the 1930s. I went to see the house 6 months ago, but no one was in. It hasn't changed a lot.

Horney Common as a child

I was born in London in 1938. When war broke out the following year my father sent my mother and myself down to Devon but soon after that he, and many of his regimental colleagues in the Army, rented a large country house in Horney Common and put the mothers and children there for the duration of the war. It was pure bliss as a child - there was the company and fun of other children in the house and every time one of the fathers came home on leave another little one turned up nine months later! The cottage was Woodstock just down the hill from the Common itself. What a treasure that was - wonderful garden, fruit growing lushly in all seasons falling from the trees, the meadow in front with the garage at the end of it and the spoiling of a dear couple, Mr and Mrs Furst, who lived in the cottage next door. My favourite flower is still the polyanthus which grew each spring in a riot of colour down either side of the garden path leading to the front gate. The local farm folk spoiled us too by providing some of things that they could get which we could not because of food rationing - milk, the occasional egg and anything that was going. I had my first ever piano lessons from a lady who lived facing Horney Common itself and attribute my love of music to her guidance and skill. We had friends further up in the Nutley Village - the Cox family - and they lived in a beautiful big house on an unmade path towards Ashdown Forest.  We were friends with a boy called Corky who lived in a big house up the hill from Woodstock and there was so much to explore - lovely little lanes with secret places, the forest and a trip to Maresfield was always a treat. I recall my cousin Judith, who was evacuated over in Kirdford, falling in the lych gate of Maresfield church as we waited for a bus one day and having a profuse nosebleed over everything and everyone! There were no boxes of tissues in those days and hankies were few and far between due to clothes coupons.
Going back to Woodstock, I have a photo of my father digging a hole for the Anderson Shelter near the kitchen door by the orchard before he went off to war and I can still smell the earth as we would go down into it when the sirens sounded. We also had a Morrison Shelter in the living room and to young children it was not frightening - it was an adventure. I am 71 now, disabled and cannot get anywhere very much, but am planning, sometime, somehow, to get back just once more for a final look around Horney Common, Nutley and those magical places of my early childhood.

Juliet Baxter (nee Reckitt)

The Butterbox

Spent many happy days as a small boy living at the "Butterbox" a wondeful place to live and explore, went to school in the village and used to spend a sixpence every Friday in the sweet shop