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Gleadless
Gleadless maps
Historic maps of Gleadless and the local area, hand-drawn by Ordnance Survey and Samuel Lewis. View all Gleadless maps
Gleadless area books
Displaying 1 of 28 books about Gleadless and the local area. View all books for this area
You can read extracts and browse photos from these books.
Memories of Gleadless
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South Yorkshire memories
Waiting For The Bus
As a small child and a grown woman with children of my own I remember waiting for the Wakefield bus after a visit to my grandparents. Some times it would be the West Riding bus, at other times it was the United one. Until his death in 1973 Grandad, whenever possible, would walk us down to the bus stop and wait with us until the bus came.
By Jean Johnson (nee Aston)
Weddings & Christenings
The Parish Church at Hemsworth is where my parents were married and where me and my twin sisters were christened. In 1959 I was a bridesmaid for my aunt when she got married. The last time I was in the church was for my cousin's funeral a few years ago. I have a copy of this photograph on my lounge wall in my Wakefield home.
Jean Johnson (nee Aston)
The War Years From The Eyes of an 8 Year Old Boy.
I was born on Rodman Street, Woodhouse Mill on the 15th November 1931. That makes me 79 now. I remember the Second World War and the shelters in the back garden. I remember the poppy day ceremonies at the cenotaph in Woodhouse, I was a scout with Skipper Edwards as our leader. Bob Graves was the Akela for the cubs. We played Kick Can on Rodman Street in the blackout. I live in Shireoaks now but I will always remember "Wudhus mill" or "The mill" as we knew it. When the school was taken over as an emergency post, we did "home service" in Mrs Bloom's front room for a couple of hours a day, with Miss Alton (Alston?) as our teacher. What days they were!
Childhood Memories
My father, Bertram Whittingham was a native of Hemsworth, born 1892 and I am the remaining son of the family born August 1926 in a small miner's cottage located at No. 7 North View. My father was a coal miner, working at Hemsworth Colliery until his retirement. There are so many memories, I really don't know where to begin. The police station was located just before reaching Cross Hills on the right hand side. Opposite was Townsend, the butcher, with the "slaughter house" situated at the back of his shop. Next to Townsends stood the Midland Bank. At the bottom of Highfields was a stone trough where the horses would stop to drink. I can only recall 2 policemen manning the station, one of them named "Bobby Johnson". As children, we were scared to death of him. If he caught us being mischievious, he would give us a clip "round the ear hole", folowed by - "Al tell thi father wast tha's done". Time around 1932 On Kirkby Road, just past the market place,... Read more
Songs of Praise at Ecclesall Church
This was the church I went to as a child - mostly I had to go as a condition of attending Brownies, but it was always both imposing and comforting as a building and place of worship. However, the most outstanding memory I have is when, in the early sixties, the BBC visited to broadcast a live service. Normally the church was about two-thirds full, but that day, there were far more people than spaces on pews, and the BBC chaps on the door were 'vetting' people as they tried to enter. Luckily mum was dressed in a new outfit which was the height of fashion. I don't remember her smart skirt suit, but I do remember her dark maroon hat with rakish feather. The BBC chappie sent her straight down to the front pew, as a suitable candidate to appear on live TV. They didn't reckon on me and my younger brother, however, as neither of us could take our eyes off the cameras - we spent the whole... Read more
Sticklebacks at Wire Mill Dam
After dad got his first car, an Austin A30, he used to take me and my younger brother out for trips a little further afield, and Wire Mill Dam was one of our very favourite places. We'd be armed with a jam jar and fishing net apiece, and spend hours trying to catch the numerous sticklebacks, and watch people sailing their model boats. The sticklebacks were carefully carried home, but they never survived long in their glass jars.
It was a very busy place, the photographer must have been there during the week, and during school term time.
This photo gave me a wry smile, as the photographer must have been standing in the exact spot from which I fell in the water one Sunday afternoon! Dad made me stand up in the car all the way home so I didn't get the seats wet, and I got quite a scolding from mum once we got back.
Magic And Mischief
When it was new , the changing colours of floodlights that swept round the fountain and tinted the sprays looked so futuristic and bright, You could stare at them waiting for the cycle to run over again. At times it froze into grotesque lumps, but the most amazing was when students put Teepol or other industrial strength soaps into it and the froth flowed down the street. Equally impressive was the fluorescent dye that gave the water a yellow green radiance. It was much abused but ever entertaining. Shame it has gone, probably offended Health and Safety?
