Dormansland, the Schools 1910

Lingfield

Jean Chambers mentioned the bomb dropping on the school in 1943 - my parents shop (John Banks Outfitters) was almost opposite the school and I was born at the end of 1943 being given my second name of "Heather" after Heather Lumsden who was killed in the school and was a good friend of my parents.

Jean also mentioned the bomb that was found in 2002 at the bottom of what had been their garden. I wonder whether we lived next door to her. We lived for a time (about 1948/50 I should think) in Mount Pleasant Road - just before the corner next to a large house in big grounds and I understand this is where the bomb was found.

I see from looking at google maps that there is now a house in the grounds between that house and ours.

We left Lingfield in about 1960/61 and I now live in New Zealand but I have great memories of growing up in Lingfield Village.

My uncle, Syd Hooker, worked in the grocers and the Cabin behind the Cage.

Falling in the pond

Rod Swift remarked about falling in the pond - well I was one of these. Rod must be my cousin's son, as my aunt and uncle lived in the house referred to. Around 1953 on an icy cold day in winter, a crowd of us were going home after school. On passing the pond we knew there was thick ice so decided to skate on the ice. We did not take into account that it was beginning to thaw and around the outside you could see ice had melted. Quite a number of us went on the ice and most were fine, but I was in the rear and suddenly the ice caved in. I don't remember how many were actually in the water but I was very lucky as a bus inspector waded in and pulled me out from under ther ice. Fortunately no-one was injured, and I only had hurt pride as my mother made me undress outside in the cold. I wish we could have thanked the bus inspector, but we never knew who he was. With regard to the the old oak tree, I remember many a time standing inside the trunk, and we used to throw knives (holding the blade) to stick in the trunk. Nobody ever came to harm with knives in those days. We were always climbing trees and playing in the fields, making dens anywhere there was cover. We played with fag cards and marbles and five stones (chucks they were called where my mother came from in the north-east, and where we spent most of the summer holidays.) My sister was fortunate not to be killed by the bomb that landed on Lingfield school on February 9th 1943. A few minutes later and the school would have been filled with 280 children and their teachers. Two teachers and two 11year old girls plus a caretaker were killed which included Mrs Lumsden a teacher, and the wife of Mr Lumsden one of my school teachers. I guess our whole family was lucky as an unexploded bomb was found at the bottom of what was our garden only in 2002 when builders were digging foundations for an extension to a house. It is said that the bombs were for the Monotype factory which was a munitions factory at that time. My cousin and I used to shop for our grandparents who lived in Plaistow Street, facing the prison which we called the 'Old Cage'. The house can be seen in one of the photos of Lingfield. Grandma used to send us to the local garage to get the accumulator recharged for the radio. We had to be very careful as it was acid. At Christmas all aunts, uncles and cousins visited here for a good old sing-song, while Grandad played the accordion.

Just Lingfield

If you hadn't fallen in the pond, you were not from Lingfield! So says my dad. The building to the right of the cage in this photo was a shop. My memory of this shop only goes back to the mid 1970s. My grandparents' house was behind the shop (the hedge to the right on this photo is the edge of their property), and whilst on holiday visiting them, my brother and I would play cards with Grandad for 5p a hand. He always claimed that he 'was the best pontoon player in the world', although he would always twist on 18+! We always managed to win and when we both got up to 50p we would always run down the garden path and go to the shop and buy a Cornetto. (They were banned from sale on the Isle of Man back then.)  My dad was born in the house and we would go back every 2 or 3 years but now my grandparents are both gone and these pics are great memories. During the late 1970s in the punk era a load of punks used to congregate around the cage. One time my nan had had enough of the noise of them and their bikes, so she threw a bucket of water over one of them. They rode off and my nan made the front page of the East Grinstead Courier. She sent the paper over to us and I ran across the road and showed my auntie from my mother's side. I got a chocolate because we were a brave family. (I wasn't more than 8 years old.)

The Creasey family of Felbridge and East Grinstead

In the nineteenth century my Creasey family were tenant farmers at Gibbshaven Farm near Felbridge. Many of the family lived their entire lives in the area and the church was where they were baptised, married and buried.

It is a beautiful area and many of the family pursued interests in farming, nursery gardening and coach making.

My great great uncle Ernest Creasey ran a wheelwright and coachmaker's business not far away at South Norwood and my grandad, George Creasey Allen, who I remember well, went to work for him as a wheelwright.