Lowestoft, Punch and Judy, Children's Corner 1952

Living at Gunton

My family and I lived in the cottage to the left of the picture from 1944 to 1951 although we retained connections with the Fowler family until the last surviving member, Georgina Fowler, died early in 1960. I was in the choir at the church from 1948 until 1952 and was organist for three years from 1956. My sisters and I have many happy memories of our time at Gunton.

June 1958 a frightening experience!!!!

It was my 4th birthday and we were staying in Caister at the Sycamore Camp in a caravan that my Parents had hired for a 2 week holiday.
So the date 13th June 1958 and we took a trip in Dad's old car up to Lowestoft.
After the usual cup of tea or bottle of Fanta and a Ham roll  in the Fisherman's Cafe on Whaplode Road we continued to get on with the business in hand.
Primarily to order some Bloaters to be sent home for my Granddad.
Whilst there we went and sat on the beach close to the old Punch and Judy booth and waited for the show to begin.
Suddenly the show began and all the kids and might I say some of the parents were totally transfixed by the antics in the brightly coloured booth.
It was at this time that I had the shock of my short life when Mr.Punch announced that a kid from Sheffield called Brian had a birthday that day and that he was all of 4 years old.
Being a very shy kid I ran the full length of the beach and when my Dad caught up with me I had filled my new pair of khaki shorts!!!!!!!
Since finding this site I have been in contact with the Punch and Judy Professor Bryan Clarke who has given me the name of the Professor in those days.
So the name of Franklin Spence will live with me for the rest of my life   boy did he give me the most frightening day of my life.
Not only that but memories of those holidays will last with me forever.

Rogerson Hall Holiday Camp, Corton, Suffolk

I was just putting in "Rogerson Hall" on search and came across this site. Wonderful. I went to Rogerson Hall with my Mum and Dad in 1956 and 1957. In 1956, when I was 6, Dad booked the holiday and within one day of being there I developed chicken pox and we had to come home to London. I was heartbroken but to help console me, my wonderful Mum took my tin bucket on to the beach and brought me a bucket of sand to take home to London on the train; can you imagine that? I played with it for days and days. The following year, my Dad made up for the disappointment and we went back there for 2 weeks. I remember so many things as if it was yesterday. Two things I remember more than anything are: the chalets didn't have hot water so we had to go to the standpipes in the middle of the pathways each morning to get hot water and the sandmartins who made their nests in the holes at the side of the beach. I have wonderful photos of the camp with my Dad in the fancy hat competition and doing a tug of war competition. Also there are some of me in the fancy dress competition. Mum and Dad hired a tandem bike with a child's seat in the middle and peddled to Blundestone and back which wore them out but I enjoyed it and I know my teddy did too as he is in the photo. Last month, my husband and I went back to the site. Of course it isn't like the old days at all but it was nice to be there....but to be honest, my heart felt quite choked. Lovely times; lovely memories of a wonderful place.