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Memories of Essex
The Clock House
My Nan and Grandad lived in the Clock House for a long time, from birth I spent many happy christmas's here with my big family. This house is my most favourite place in England, I love absolutely everything about it and only wish anyone reading this could get a glimpse of my wonderful memories. I was told I was conceived here.
500 years old+, it's quite hard for me to grasp just how old that is.
The best things about this house... how 'lived in' it felt, the noise of the cars and the ages going past through the little lead windows.. waiting for Father Christmas I was convinced he'd never miss the Clock House... It has fireplaces in nearly every room! The old doors....
The Clock Room is in the room above the drive, the Clock workings are very old which gives the room a very eerie feeling. My nan is very elegant and old fashioned so the interior suited very well...My grandfather was an Antique Dealer so the... Read more
I am looking for any relative of my Uncle George Sampford. I remember being with him in the Clock House in the early 1940s. I do not know if he lived there or if we were visiting someone else. I remember an air rifle being accidently fired in the front room and the pellet got lodged in the wall. I would appreciate any info. George had 3 brothers - Harry who was killed in the First World War, Hugh who was born deaf and dumb, and William who was my father.
My mother lived in Dunmow from 1932 until 1946 when she left to live in Edinburgh. My mother's name was Rosalind Frecknall and she and her family lived at The Close initially, then The Downs. Her father, Claud Frecknall, taught woodwork at the local school and was an air raid warden during the war. My mother remembers being in the cinema and when she came out she heard the planes overhead; often they were on their way to Chelmsford to bomb the Marconi factory. My grandmother, Lynette Frecknall, started a local group that held talks above the Co-op shop. She was interested in politics and stood for the local Council. There was a cobbler who was disabled in the town, who was a Justice of the Peace, Claud Frecknall talked to him every day, his name was Arthur Lowe. My grandfather, Claud,was stopped for speeding one day when the family was coming back from holiday.This would have been about 1934. As he was a teacher they would go long holidays,and... Read more
Living at 5 New St Great Dunmow
I lived at this address from when I was about 11 years old, my mother (Charlotte (Lottie) married Charlie Childs around that time, he was the village baker and I have wonderful memories of him teaching me the business, and also eating his wonderful bread, especially the 'Huffers', a kind of roll, and of course the cottage loaves. After Charlie died the actual bakery was transformed into another house, my sister Madeline and her husband lived there for years until they both died. I have wonderful memories there, and I am sure everyone who knew Charlie's Bread was sad to see him go the way he did, he was in his 90's and one morning down in the kitchen he put the kettle on for a 'cup of tea' when his sleeve caught fire on the gas ring, it was an awful way for that wonderful old man to go. I live in Victoria Canada B C now with my family, but my daughter who is married to an American... Read more
My grandfather Cecil Welch, who was the local estate agent and auctioneer based at the Old Town Hall in the High Street, bought several old cottages next to the blacksmiths in Church End for his son John and wife Peggy, at the vast cost of £600. She came from Wiltshire and changed the name from Jackman's to Longleat. They had been living with their in-laws at Kasama on the Stortford Road and they needed their own home as they had just adopted a baby - that being me - Pene. They had married just before he left for the Second World War in 1942 but had never really lived together. My father kept a diary and wrote of the many hours he spent at his new house finding blocked off windows and hidden fireplaces, and what had been a near hovel with rats in the back garden and drunken brawling at night became a family home for myself and my parents. I remember picking at bits of plaster between the... Read more
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