Turnford A Peaceful Place
A Memory of Turnford.
I was born and grew up in a happy, peaceful village where everyone knew everyone else. My memories are of long walks in a beautiful countryside which could have been a million miles from London instead of an hour on a greenline bus. Of thick fogs in November when traffic crawled at walking pace; indeed, one night my grandfather was leading the crocodile of vehicles and they all followed him up his drive and there was great difficulty in turning everyone around and getting them back onto the road. I remember my father saying he was going mushrooming one morning as there were some beauties at the end of the field which would be just ready at daybreak. The mushrooms grew just below the railway and when my father arrived at 6am a train had stopped, and the driver was picking the mushrooms! I remember many happy Saturday and Sunday afternoons watching cricket and the excitement of being allowed to score for the Rochford's 2nd XII (such lovely boys) and going to the away games in the back of an old lorry. Memories of Prince and Jolly, the two huge carthorses who worked for Rochford's and tramped backwards and forwards pulling cart loads of tomato waste. Fishing in the stream for sticklebacks. Climbing the banks of the New River and walking for miles along the footpaths. Watching the barge horses pulling barges along the River Lea; crossing over the river on the lock gates - I go cold thinking about that one. Racing up and down the hills on the islands created in the gravel works. The village shop and being relieved when Mrs Newbury retired as we were scared stiff of her; Ken was much easier to manipulate! A time of growing your own vegetables and eating your own fruit. The AA man who parked in front of the New River Arms and saluted members of AA as they drove past. Of climbing onto our gate and onto the public telephone box roof when someone was in it. The time a pony got loose and was leading a convoy of traffic along the arterial road. I lived there until I got married and felt happy, safe and part of a large village family. On a trip back to England a couple of years ago I was driven through Turnford, Cheshunt and Waltham Cross and was hard put to recognise anything. But I still have wonderful memories and thank the people I grew up among for helping to make the first 20 years of my life so happy.
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Wow happy days, happy memories,