Oxshott In The 50s And 60s

A Memory of Oxshott.

My maiden name was Agnew. I was born in Great Bookham and moved to Oxshott in 1949 when I was 5. We lived in Lattice Cottage, Steels Lane, then Woodfield in the Ridgeway, finally The Spinney in Heath Road until 1970.
Have so enjoyed reading the other memories - the second doctor was Dr.Berridge who was also a surgeon and sewed up my knee when I burst a blood vessel in a fall in Sally Johnson's garden - they ran the village post office.
I went to Oxshott Primary (or The Royal Kent School, as it was called). Miss Brown was Headmistress - a rather sharp-tongued lady, then Miss Gladys Mayo who was young, blonde and pretty. She left to go as a missionary to Uganda. Classes were large (40 in top class) and only 3 teachers. I was an early and fluent reader but dreadful at arithmetic - Miss Mayo advised my parents, if funds permitted, to send me to a private school in order for me to pass the 11+. I went to Rowan Hill in Claygate for 2 years and hated it - full of bitchy, horse-mad nouveau-riche little girls who made my life miserable because I worked hard and did as I was told. But it did have benefits - small classes, extra coaching in the holidays - I passed the 11+ and spent 7 very happy years at Guildford County School. Plus Rowan Hill taught French and the early start helped me to develop a gift for languages that eventually led to a job as a bi-lingual PA in London.
But back to Oxshott - Brown's sweetshop - always seemed a magical place to me - full of big jars of proper sweets - peardrops, sherbet lemons, mint lumps - all weighed out in little paper bags. The Christmas Fair in St. Andrew's Hall, with the Rev. Herbert Evans, dressed up as Father Christmas, presiding over the bran tub - girls' presents wrapped in pink crepe paper, boys' in blue. Lots of village activities - I was in the Brownies and in my teens I sang in the church choir for a couple of years. Ballet lessons with Rosemary Miller and later, Margot Conrad. Ballroom dancing classes in the holidays run by Paddy Hackett. The Sports Club - my father was an ace tennis-player and won the triple crown many years in a row. My parents were into amateur dramatics - they founded and ran The Oxshott Players. They both acted and directed and my father designed and painted the sets and did everyone's stage make-up - stage lighting was quite harsh in those days (hired in from Strand Electric in London) and it was Leichner stick make-up - blending No.5 and No.9 took some skill. I had my first part with them in 1960 and have acted and directed ever since, until I was 67.
Although a small village, we had a good range of shops - I remember going under the archway next to the garage to the baker's and buying little Hovis rolls for 3d - and paying in farthings. Grimditch and Webb, the butcher's - run by Mr and Mrs Chowney. Cullens for groceries - though my mother rarely set foot in the shop itself. On Thursday afternoons Mr Parsons would arrive on his bike and, over a cup of tea in our kitchen, he and my mother would discuss her order for the week which was delivered by Douglas in his van the next day - the precursor to Internet shopping! We moved to Guildford in 1970, and after I married, to Wiltshire where we still live. I have never been back to Oxshott and was bemused to see it has become the most expensive "village" in England - I doubt I'd recognize it now - I prefer to keep my memories of a small, friendly community, where we knew almost everyone by name and where I spent a very happy childhood.


Added 12 May 2017

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A further (momentous) memory of my time at the village school - in 1952 the Headmistress announced at Morning Assembly that King George VI had died. This was greeted with shocked and disbelieving silence - some of us burst into tears. The King was an unseen but permanent presence in our young lives - we thought he'd go on for ever. When I got home, I decided to write to the Queen (Queen Mother as she became) on my best pink notepaper to say how sorry I was. I didn't expect a reply - but I got one! Black-edged envelope, black-edged paper with the Buckingham Palace crest - "Her Majesty is deeply touched at your kind thought in writing". Think how many letters they must have had (and from important people) but they took the trouble to reply to a little girl. Then in 1953, to mark the Coronation, each schoolchild was presented with a little yellow pottery mug, with the date and the head of the Queen. I kept mine for over 50 years, till it broke in a housemove - but I still have the letter.

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