Turvey memories
Here are memories of Turvey and the local area. You can start now: Add your own Memory of Turvey or a Turvey photo.
The War Years And Just Afterwards
Turvey Abbey was owned in those days by Rupert Allen who owned an engineering factory in Bedford. My father was employed on the estate as gardener/general factotum (and was paid a pittance for the privilege). The Abbey had a few cows, pigs, geese and chickens. It was often my job to go out at dusk to shut up the chickens to stop the foxes getting them. I remember it was quite spooky as it got dark (I was only 10 or 11 at the time) and I used to run as fast as I could to get the job done. When I think back to those times I wonder what the Health and Safety people of today would have said about some of the things I helped Dad do - like operating the big chaff-cutter or the machine that chopped up mangle-wurzels for the cattle. We always had a goose for Christmas and whenever a pig was killed we had the offal (chitterlings etc). My favourite thing was after a... Read more
Fishing in The Great Ouse
I remember fishing for endless hours just about the spot shown in the photograph. There were many perch there and on one occasion I caught a fair sized pike. Just upstream from this location was a sort of peninsular accessed by climbing down steps set in the wall of Turvey Bridge. This was called Sam's Island for some reason. Brings back many happy memories of over half a century ago!!
Memories of Bedfordshire
The Village Policeman
My father was the village policeman in the late 30s. My first memories was the police house next door to the garage, and the sweet shop with a lot of steps, (is it still there) the bridge sticks in my mind. The time dad chopped his leg badly and we were shipped off to Grandma's and we had a car accident we made the papers that day (would love a copy of that). My first school teacher Miss Negus, and going to Sunday school and collecting my stamps for attending. I have an old photo of our policehouse taken by my brother on one of his vists.
I now reside in Australia but I still feel a touch of nostalgia for my home country.
Small Prison Cell Where John Bunyon Stayed
I was born in Tithe Barn Road in 1953. When I was about 9 and 12 some mates and me noticed this small building that looked like a small house. A pointed house with no windows, just a solid oak door with 3 bars at top of door, always very dark inside & nobody told us nothing - only it was a jail. As it had woodern beams we could see writing carved in the wood, so after a lot of work and time we managed to make a hole though one corner. After we got the courage to enter, we noticed the poems carved out on the beams were written by John Bunyon. I would love to see some photos of the prison, it went many years ago. It was in Hall End Road, next to church, in the corner, under trees.
Swimming in The River at Kempston
Great times were had at the river at the bend as we children called it, we would make mud slides down the banks. What fun we had. There was always a good crowd there on a Sunday afternoon, but now its all quiet, no swimmers, the bend has long since gone.
Up The Overs
Walking free through the wet grass leaving dark trails. Ahead the meadow rises to the mill bank where we stand in silence. Silent and smooth the deep mill race slides towards the wheel. Turning away we follow the bank upstream to the New Overs. Standing on the wooden sluice walk we look down the slide to the deep pool below. No water over the spillways in summer, the shutters are down and slides are dry. Later in the day the children will come to swim in the sluice pool and splash along through the shallows to the eyot. The girls will sit on the slide lip and the boys, lifting the shutters from the sluice walk, will send a wave down the slide to wash them into the pool. No-one will play on the second Over with its dark tree shaded pool. Strong swimmers drown among the tangled roots.
On along the mill steam bank, walking on the cracked dry clay, to the old Overs. The duck... Read more
Happy Days
I was just Two when I moved to Souldrop with my parents in 1949,we lived at 18 High Street,just opposit the green and the large tree what in those days was a mere twig! we lived there for 5 years before moving on to Colworth estate. I was Barbara Smith then,Mr Prigmore still lives next door although sadley he could not remember me, those were such happy earthy days filled with the spirit of every one working together after war time and although hard it is my pleasure to have been part of it. Best Wishes to Souldrop and all who live there>
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