Memories of Iveston

I was born in 1934 and lived in Iveston for 18 years, leaving reluctantly in 1952. We first lived beside the duckpond, in the cottage attached to Letch Farm, run then or later by Mr and Mrs Harrison. Avis Harrison baked my wedding cake. We then lived on the village green across from the school where I started at the age of 5. The headmaster/teacher was a Mr Smith (there was only one teacher). I was only there for a year or so and then went to Leadgate School, but I remember we had slate pencils and slate boards to write on. The only other pupils I remember were Alma and Velma  Bates, who were much older than me. Just above the school there was Cruddas's shop. We then moved to Parkers Buildings. I went to the chapel and was on the Anniversay service until I was 18.
Mostly I remember the farms. There was Bob Wright's on the other side of  Bogle Hole, long gone with mining subsidence. Then Board arm (Joe Parker's) where I spent a lot of time. During the Second World War I used to go out with Joe with the milk float on a Saturday morning to deliver milk to Leadgate.  Housewives came out with their jugs and cans and milk was served straight from the churn. The pony was called Hitler. Across from Board Farm was Townend Farm owned by Alf Bates. At one time during the war there was a squad of American servicemen based there. They used the dairy as a cookhouse and if we went to sit on the barn steps we were given papers of chips and other 'goodies'. When they left in convoy they all waved and tooted as they passed the house. Following on from there was the war memorial and then Tot Bates farm. My father built a garden for Mrs Bates at the front of the house. Also in later years Tot converted a small building into a cabin where Cecil Stirk used to come up once a week with his records and play them for us I remember listening to 'The Woodcutters' Ball' and 'Night Riders in the Sky' among others.  I also remember listening  to the broadcasts of the big fights on the radio there. Next was Best's, then down the hill to Kirkpatrick's, there was another farm at the bottom, then further on past Red Houses was Parky Bate's farm. We spent a lot of time on the farms helping with the haymaking and harvest. I remember being allowed to drive a Ford tractor at harvest time and also a Massey Ferguson. Smaller farms gathered in hay with horse and bogie, the pike being winched on to the bogie. Larger farms had tractors.  There was also Woodside Farm on the Lanchester road which was run by George and Mary Robinson. During the war George had German P.O.Ws working on the farm and they used to make slippers and shopping bags from straw and sell them.
There was carol singing around the village and all the farms at Christmas, and an annual trip to the seaside, all organised by the Chapel. There were wonderful bonfires on Guy Fawkes Night on the village green.
I have snapshots taken at the 1937 Coronation celebration outside the Smithy (Tom Armstrong's, I think), and the village is decorated with bunting.
There was sledging down Bogle Hole and also the other side of the village down past Kilpatrick's to the Red Houses. Mind you, it was a long haul back up. I remember going across to the pools just below Happy Land to fish for frogspawn, and my father skating on the village pond when it was frozen. My father was born in Iveston. Mr grandfather, Kit Stockdale, lived at Stockerly Grove Cottage at the bottom of Bogle Hole, the one with the stone cat sat on the east gable.
Cruddas's shop just above the school was where we bought our penny peg bars. Mrs. Bainbridge (across from the Smithy) made toffee apples and cinder toffee during the war - if you took her a bar of chocolate she would make you the most amazing Easter egg. The New Inn was where when we were older we could buy crisps and bottles of pop. And I remember that the Motor Bike Scrambling Club was extremely popular.
I corresponded with and visited Mary Kipling (now deceased) who wrote a book on the history of Iveston and she would keep me informed of all the changes (she fought hard against most of them). The village I knew was a close-knit farming community. Now it is commuter-belt country, full of expensive properties and converted buildings. Where are all the farms, village chapel and school and the duckpond? I am amazed at the changes, and walking through it now is like visiting a foreign country. BUT memories never fade and I can close my eyes and visualise Iveston as it was in 'the good old days'.