Uncle Trevor

A Memory of Hazelbury Bryan.

My mum was taken in during WW II as a young girl to move her out of London. She lived with Trevor Gawler and his wife until the refugee kids were sent back to the big city. My mum loved it in the countryside and didn’t want to leave. The Gawlers loved her like she was their own. She visited back there every year and took us with her when our family grew. We loved it there too with so many memories, like fresh churned milk, conker fields, the cows walking through the village and us hanging out of the windows trying to touch them, the old post office next door to us, the little cottage Briar Lee, the thatched roofs, the fresh air, the local church where Uncle Trevor was married. His family lived in that area for centuries. He was a carpenter like his dad before him. I miss those days.

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