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Merevale
Merevale maps
Historic maps of Merevale and the local area, hand-drawn by Ordnance Survey and Samuel Lewis. View all Merevale maps
Merevale area books
Displaying 1 of 6 books about Merevale and the local area. View all books for this area
You can read extracts and browse photos from these books.
Memories of Merevale
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Warwickshire memories
The White Horse Inn
From 1980/84 I was part owner of the pub, we had a brilliant football team at the time and were an important social centre for the village. The pub no longer exists as it closed soon after I sold my share, however I do still have contact with some of my old regulars. Today I manage a small guest house in Cornwall but still get visitors from Baddesely.
The White Horse
My Gt Gt Aunt Esther Parry and her husband Joseph kept it c1891 and my gt Aunt Annie who lived with them from a young age had it in 1901. She married Thomas Terry.
Little Jims Cottage
Does anyone have any information about John Guy who lived in Little Jims Cottage in the early 1960's? John was my fathers cousin and I understand that he was a musician.
Nursery School 1943-50
I spent some classic country living in Ansley Common during the later war years. Walking home from nursery school I would often be ducking for cover under hedges as low flying fighter planes would scream overhead. The nursery school was a happy place with then large playing fields reaching down to the pit railway line. The coal mine was the focus for most families in the area. Our family focus turned into a tragic loss of a father in 1951 in a massive pit fall. As a family then moved to London and eventually Australia. Some friends of that period George Parks. Christine Atkinson. Beryl Frost Graham Judge Les Warren Eileen Jones. Now living for past 43 years in Barwon Heads a small fishing town on the south coast of Victoria Australia. Playing piano. Swimming. Beach walking. Grandchildren. Now 69 and having a ball. All the best for your site - Brian Riggs
My Hurley
From the age of 48 hours until I was about 18yrs I lived and grew up in Hurley. I have done my fair share of moving around not only England but the world. From the busy, bright lights of London to spectacular, solitary mountains of New Zealand. Now all grown up at age 45, or as grown up as I'm probably ever going to get. Of all the places I've lived Hurley takes some beating. I now visit regularly to spend time with mum and dad and walk my dog, taking wonderful trips down memory lane as I clamber over stys and fields I played in as a child. Enjoying them all over again. As I leave Cheshire where I now live, I drive that last little bit of the M42 exiting along the lane telling me I'm heading for Kingsbury. I pass the vets at Dunton Island where Tiggy the cat got the snip. Past the Dug Outs now known as Kingsbury water park, memories of having a whale... Read more
GROWING UP WHEN CHILDREN WERE ALLOWED TO BE CHILDREN
I was born in Dordan, Warwickshire and moved to Hurley when I was 3 years old. From that point in my life I can honestly say I had a wonderful childhood whilst growing up in the village of Hurley. The most mermorable were the weekends and school holidays when we would spend our days walking down the many twisting, hedge lined country lanes. Even at the age of about 7 or 8 years old, we would gather a group of friends, get our mums to make us some sandwiches and head off down Dexter Lane for walk and end up having a picnic by a stream somewhere amongst the many fields and lanes around the village. We would be gone virtually all day, without a care in the world, only returning when it started to get dark. Sometimes we might even indulge in a bit of scrumping on the way home. Another fond memory was the time of the miners strike when there were power cuts because the... Read more
Growing up in Galley Common
Growing up in Galley Common was the best part of my life. Dad was the manager of the bus depot, Bunty Motors I think it was called, at the bottom of Hickman Road, I lived at 66 Hickman Road. In the summer a lot of us kids would go camping down the 'rec as we called it, another name for the recreation park. I made myself ill living on beans. In the winter we always seemed to have heavy snowfalls, gangs of kids, me as well, would wait at the bottom of Hickman Road waiting for the miners in their cars going home, when they tried to get up the hill the back wheels would spin, all the kids would push like mad to get them going and the miners would give us pocket money for our efforts. The mine is now gone, but the memories live on.
