Broadwindsor

Read and share memories of Broadwindsor and Dorset inspired by Frith photos

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My Dad

My Dad
The church at Whitchurch is a lovely place to wander and muse. My father died out shooting at Mapperton when I was 11, and what a terrible shock it was.

What is nice for me now, 25 years later, is to still be able to walk down through the village past the 5 Bells pub, or over the lovely rolling fields, to the church yard where his grave lies amongst the rustling of the trees, birds chatting to each other, gentle sunshine making patterns on the grass as it peeks through the trees, and a general sense of timelessness and peace that I have found over recent years to be so soothing.

What a special place!!

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Triggering memories.

We were clearing the last furniture from my mother's bungalow a few weeks ago. A heartbreaking task, having lost her in April. Behind the last set of drawers, on the floor, I found an old sepia photograph. It showed a group of children with some adults, outside a building which must have been a chapel or a school. From the clothes they wore, the photo would have been taken in the early 1920s.

Later, I searched the internet for clues, looking especially at the areas where my mother grew up - Salway Ash in particular. So I found the Francis Frith site.

There were no clues for Salway Ash, but I came to the Pymore site. One ...read more here
A memory of Pymore contributed by Veronica White

The Visitation Convent Bridport Dorset.

For unruly behaviour, I was delivered to boarding school at the age of 4, after enjoying wonderful times on a Devon farm. I was taken to the Convent by my parents in an Austin 7. I remember crying and staring at the red and yellow floor tiles while Mother Superior Sister Agnes Francis and my future form mistress, Sister Anne, promised punishment if I didn't stop. For high spirits, this turned out to be a long punishment, lasting until 1953.
The nuns ruled the boys with discipline that today would result in prosecution and school closure. After Mass, breakfast in winter was a sordid affair starting with a tablespoonful of Cod Liver Oil. If it made you vomit, you were very ...read more here
A memory of Bridport contributed by Rex Duffy

Boarding at the Visitation Convent

My brother and I attended the Convent as boarders from 1958 to 1961 after the death of our mother. We were pretty traumatised on our first day there but were gently looked after by the wonderful Sister Edith. I later remember serving at her funeral. The discipline could be quite harsh at times and I do recall the infants being forced to eat there own vomit at breakfast. Not being allowed to go to the loo when you needed to, especially at night, is a lasting memory.The education was very good and I did well there, having joined with English as my second language. I do remember the room with the strange creatures in jars, it was where we would go ...read more here
A memory of Bridport contributed by Emeric Molnar