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On returning from the Middle East, my family holed up across the water at Fawley. A big city was very exciting for me and after getting off the Hythe Ferry it was all bomb craters up to about the Dolphin. Above Bar was ...Read more

A memory of Southampton in 1954 by Jeannette Lomas

This was 1958 the time when I seriously got into drainpipes, drapes and rock 'n roll music. I was at Walbottle Secondary Modern School. I used to take in the leg width of my jeans by hand using a needle and thread to ...Read more

A memory of Newburn in 1958 by Jimmy Burrows

My wife and I were staying in Middleham Cottages that night and escaped to the schoolhouse with other survivers. We escaped the village the next day, after a terrifying night, through the Lynmouth Hotel to the bridge by ladder across ...Read more

A memory of Lynmouth in 1952 by Ray Little

I have been trying to remember the exact dates when we lived in Dovercourt but I think it was something like 1953-57, while my father worked for the railway at Parkeston Quay. We first rented a place in Shaftesbury Avenue ...Read more

A memory of Dovercourt in 1955 by Robert Dingwall

We moved to Park Farm Kettlethorpe when I was 7. The family at this time was reduced to Mum and Dad, Eileen, Brian, Maureen and Gillian. At first we lived in a semi detatched house at the top of the ...Read more

A memory of Kettlethorpe in 1955 by Gillian Emerton

This is a picture of the house I lived in as a 8year old boy, I used to catch trout and eels by hand in the stream/creek. It was called the old mill house, to the left was the old bobbin mill. The driveway was directly opposite to the Bayley Arms.

A memory of Hurst Green in 1959 by Rick Procter

Good times. No electric, log fires, paraffin lamps, everything cooked on the old faithful black lead grate which I had to clean every week. No running water - my job every night when I got home from school was to get the ...Read more

A memory of Four Ashes in 1954 by Michael Jones

Memories are the garnish of our later years... During my extreme youth, the closest we ever got to a summer holiday was a week spent with our maternal grandparents. My father would trundle us through to their ...Read more

A memory of Felixstowe in 1957 by Mo Haarhoff