Eastham memories
Here are memories of Eastham and the local area. You can start now: Add your own Memory of Eastham or a Eastham photo.
Waring/Stocker Family
My grandad Gillie (John Gilbert) Waring live at Rose Cottage, 172 $astham Rake with his wife Dorothy and their children Alan, Gillie, Wally and Dulice. I have vague memories of my dad going to Eastham to park his wagon at Eastham, why he did this I do not know as he then came home to Little Sutton. I think my grandad was in the haulage business and when the lads grew up they worked for him. After Grandad Waring died, my dad had a wagon of his own, nothing special from what I can remember, he started off on his own the same time as Denny Morgan now Morgan Plant Hire plc. My dad use to laugh because he and Denny knew each other, their trucks weren't up to much and Denny had string to hold his cab door on. How lucky Denny was with his business. My dad kept on with his wagon till work got bad and later in the 1970s he went and worked for Denny and... Read more
WARING OR STOCKER FAMILY
Hi, can anyone tell me if they went to school with any of the following names, firstly my dad, Alan Maxwell Waring, Gillie Waring, Walter/Wally Waring, Dulcie Waring. They lived at Rose Cottage, Eastham. I would love to hear from anyone who knew them or any stories they could tell me. All my father's side of the family including the Stockers came from either Eastham or Bromborough and my grandfather lived on Dibbindales Hill (I am not sure where Dibbinsdale Hill is?), and it was a big house, before moving to Wastham. Any memories, please contact me, thanks.
Wartime in Eastham
I was growing up in Eastham during the 1930s, attending the village school when war was declared. We had occasional day visits by the Lufwaffe and a couple of bombs were dropped. Then, after Dunkirk, the Merseyside blitz started with a vengeance, we in Eastham took some hard hits, Masons farm, opposite the Stanley Arms, took a direct hit and lost all its cattle when the shippons collapsed, also the park had some unexploded bombs which had to be defused by the army. In 1942 Carlett Hall was requisitioned as a transit camp for the US Army, there were thousands of G.Is there in tents and huts waiting to be sent to different parts of Britain. Eastham was full of foreign armed forces, and as kids we got on well with them. After the war, Eastham changed forever, the local accent was replaced by a Birkonean one when the Mill Park estate was built by Birkenhead council, and filled by Birkenhead people, if you were an Eastham resident you were... Read more
Escavating Eastham Dock
Lived in Eastham in late 40s and early 50s at Carlett Park (in the old army camp) during the digging of the dock and went to the village school. Had a lot of fun riding on the machinery when they were doing it. That was before they made a park down by the old ferry, while playing in Eastham wood was the norm. Used to go swimming in the canal and over the banks into the mud in the Mersey and collect baskets of blackberry's along the walkway beside the canal in the old Hooton aerodrome. Lots of good memories.
thanx
Hall Farm, Eastham
I lived at Hall Farm during the war years and along with my sister attended the Village School where Bill Haining was headmaster. My father farmed 300 acres in and around Eastham and kept a dairy herd of about 50 cows. The farm was bombed just a few days before Christmas in 1941, the farm buildings skirting the roadside were demolished and the bull and six cows were killed. Fortunately the farmhouse survived and there were no other fatalities.
My father, Arthur Mason, was killed in a farming accident in 1953 and my husband and I took over the farm. Most of the land was eventually taken and this is where the Mill Park Estate now stands. We left there in 1970. Happy and sad memories of Eastham.
Memories of Merseyside
Mere Memories
My memory is not so much of the Wheatsheaf although I did visit a few times during my youth, a nice place to take a new girlfriend for a drive.
But nearby is the mere, a huge lake in the middle of an agricultural area.When I was a kid there were rowing boats that could be hired for a trip up the river. I can remember there was a small penny arcade near an old garage with flip ball machines and even a "what the butler saw" for a penny. The area was always clean and the air smelled of freshly cut hay except maybe when one of the local farmers was "muck spreading", the process of enriching the soil by spreading pig or cow manure across the paddock by tractor and machine.
Swing Boats
I spent a few summer holidays with my auntie who lived in Bromborough. I used to go to Raby Mere with my cousins, Gerrard and Chris. I remember some swing boats there, we used to love going on them.
Bike Rides From Ellesmere Port
I remember bike rides first with my dad and then with my brothers Glyn and Paul and cousins David and Neil to Raby Mere. The lake was so calm and peacfull and we hired the lovely clinker built skiffs for a row. My dad taught us to row there without 'catching crabs'! I remember the penny machines well and ice cream from the garage shop.
The mere seems so small now compared to our Lake Taupo in New Zealand but the memories are so sweet, another age! Small was certainly beautiful then.
P.S. The year was probably 1950-1955.
Learning to Row A Boat
A Sunday day out from New Brighton with my family, playing French cricket on the field above the mere, I watched the rowing boats. In 1958 I went a ride there on my bike one day. I wanted a row on the boat. The gentleman in charge said it was a shilling (5p), I could not afford that. He told me to come back on a Saturday morning and I could row all I wanted to for sixpence (2 1/2p), so I did. The kind man showed me the basics of rowing and off I went. I dropped many an oar and caught many a crab but after a few weeks I got the hang of it. Needless to say the water took over my life and I joined the Royal Navy. Couldn't row their boats though - too big!
Childhood Days
As I have lived all my life in Childer Thornton I have so many memories. I would just like to record some from my childhood. The village was a wonderful place to grow up in. There was no traffic to disturb our street play (only occassionaly the rare car). We had the village to ourselves. There were always the seasonal games. Who decided it was time to play something else we didn't know, it just happened. We played marbles, not just the boys, the girls also took part. many discussions taking place over which allie to swop for another. Hopscotch, be it the oblong stile or the round. It didn't matter which one. Top and whip, careful not to send it into the air in case it hit someones window. Chase of course, boys after the girls. Playing ball for hours on end on Mrs Fisher's wall. It must have driven her mad. But as a child you never thought of that. The other thing that when I look back... Read more
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