Garton-On-The-Wolds memories

Here are memories of Garton-On-The-Wolds and the local area. You can start now: Add your own Memory of Garton-On-The-Wolds or a Garton-On-The-Wolds photo.

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Memories of North Humberside

Postcard

Middle Street South c1955
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The cyclist in this picture is my father John G Heward. He would have been 35 at the time and we lived in Brook Street.

A memory of Driffield, shared by Kath Heward.

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Boyhood Memories

My memories of Sledmere are those of a small boy growing up in Sledmere between 1947 to 1958 when my parents decided to move from Sledmere. I have exceptionally fond memories of those days. I cannot remember a bad day or a sad day for me they were magical days. Even the seasons had their own special magic in Sledmere with many contrasting feeling, even now as I am typing this I can feel the magic sixty years on. During my life I have lived and worked in many places not only in England but in many parts of the world and I can assure you there is no where on earth that comes close to Sledmere. My only regret is that since leaving all those years ago I have only been back a dozen times. Out here in the barren desert of Saudi Arabia I constantly think about those wonderful days and the wonderful people I knew. It was a truely magical time for me and I promise one... Read more

A memory of Sledmere, shared by Tony Sygrove.

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My Childhood Memories of Beeford

Beeford holds many fond memories for me. My grandparents Charlie and Mary Walker took over the corner shop in around 1963. They then turned it into 'Ye Olde Wrought Iron Shoppe' which my grandfather ran until his late seventies. We spent most weekends there and as I grew up I visited often and had many a good night in the Yorkshire Rose which was then the Black Swan. I loved to walk up the lane through the church yard to the playing field where there was a metal frame to swing on, and I also remember at the top of the field was a great big log we used to play on, I don't suppose that is there any more. They were very special days. I believe the old house has now been renovated. My grandfather was a wonderful character much loved by the people of Beeford and his granddaughter!

A memory of Beeford, shared by Lizzie Smith.

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Boynton Hall Revisited 1975, by Matthew Strickland Quarles

I visited Boynton Hall during my year long study abroad as an English Speaking Union Scholarship recipient to Wrekin College, in Wellington, Telford, Shropshire, during the academic year 1974/1975.
At that time an architect, Mr Cooke and his wife were the owners of Boynton Hall. I had written to Mr. Cooke prior to my visiting the Hall at the suggestion of my elderly cousin who had visited the home some years previously and made the acquaintance of the Cookes.
At the time of my visit the Hall had been sectioned off in order to maintain a residence as well as a flat or two. Mr. Cooke graciously toured me throughout the house showing me the secret passageway, as well as the upper level bed chamber in which Queen Henrietta Maria - Charles I wife - was reputed to have spent one night on her way to enlist her cousin's - Louis XIV - aid in the defense of Charles's throne from Cromwellian troops. Framed and hanging beside the... Read more

A memory of Boynton Hall

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Family Holidays at Barmston

The Bungalows, South Cliff c1965 Ref: B850004

The Bungalows, South Cliff c1965
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My grandfather bought one of these ex-RAF officers bungalows after the Second World War so that the family could have a holiday base. In the B850004 photo, our bungalow is roughly alongside the white car you can see parked in the road - it was more or less halfway along the road. We all lived in Sheffield - in those days, a 3 hour drive away. I must have holidayed there from the age of 18 months to about 8 or 9 years old. We sold it a year or so before it finally succumbed to coastal erosion, to the Bott family from Sheffield for £50. I recall 2 other Sheffield families having bungalows too - the Spencers from Mylnhurst Road and the Marshmans.

I can still see, hear and feel the coarse, sandy grass under my bare feet, the howling wind from the North sea, the rain beating on the metal-framed windows, the light from Flamborough Head light house faintly illuminating my bedroom every 4 seconds or so... Read more

A memory of Barmston, shared by Peter Rodger.

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