Rood Ashton

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War Memorial

I remember as a young boy sitting on the war memorial with my grandparents Elwin (Jim) Andrews and Mable (Olive) Andrews, watching the gliders from Keevil and talking to passersby on long sunny evenings. People would stop and talk for ages and it was fascinating to hear the village gossip. I remember in particular Mrs Scarborough would often stop for a chat.
A memory of Steeple Ashton contributed by Christopher Andrews

My Mother's Wartime Memories

Or it could be late 1930s. My mother Ivy Eaglestone, at the age of about 11, was evacuated from London with her brother Leslie to stay at The Black Horse with Mr and Mrs Hughes, Elizabeth and Joe. They had 4 children: Josephine, married to Eddie who sadly died, Bettie a sargeant in the ATS, Lloyd who taught my mother to tell the time, and Donald who she never met. My mother remembers her two and half years there very fondly. Her brother, however, could not settle and was sent back to London. My mother adored every second of her time in Trowbridge. She played with two young brothers, nephews of Mr and Mrs Hughes, Teddie and Leonnard Foster. She also ...read more here
A memory of Trowbridge contributed by Tamara Fagg

Faraway Castles

As a child playing on the allotments behind the Fire station in Trowbridge I used to see the white buildings gleaming in the sun of the Manor on the far hills. It was always so beautiful sitting majestically in the distance I longed to see it up close. My father once took us around the estate and lake when access was allowed and I was intrigued by the romance and wildness of the house and garden. Years later after time and destruction had taken their toll I did see it again but sadly it had lost much of the original beauty as well as size. I still think about it today even though I am far away. Whenever I am in ...read more here
A memory of Trowbridge contributed by Barbara Thompson

Summer Days

My Sister Carolynn and I practically lived at the pool in summer even before it was heated and was often a bit chilly. Walking through the park & over the waste ground with our costume rolled in a towel under our arm. Entering the gate and hearing the fountain splashing, children screaming with laughter and the smell of chlorine in our noses, it was magic.
A quick change & walk through the disinfectant pool and we were there with everyone else having fun. When after many happy hours of swimming and jumping in it was time to leave we would put our costume throught the mangle and head home exausted but happy and keen for the next day so we ...read more here
A memory of Trowbridge contributed by Barbara Thompson