Fond Memories Of My Childhood In Holywood

A Memory of Holywood.

One of my first memories was hiding underneath the sideboard in the dining room with silver ornaments on our heads; my sisters Judy, baby Michele and myself, Deirdre, listening to the bombs falling quite close to us. We wanted to go and see the 'fireworks', my Mother must have been petrified for our safety. Luckily they fell on the golf course across the road. We lived on the Demesne Road, in front was the golf links with grazing sheep and in the back field, cows. We played a lot in the back field, when there were no cows. Cowboys and Indians among the rushes, we collected frog spawn and we had small bonfires to be able to roast potatoes (sneaked out of the house) the best were the ones without tin foil. The back field is now a housing estate - 'white city'
We also took short cuts over that field to Sullivan Upper School, when too late to cycle the road along and down My Ladies Mile....
Along the road towards Jacksons Road, there was a spinney, with lots of birds nests; we only counted the eggs and admired the different colours. Across the road, as well, at the edge of the golf links, another spinney and road leading up to the golf club. The original golf club had burnt down, my mother told us it was because someone cut down the Hawthorne tree on the links, which caused very bad luck! She also said a lot of people took their old clubs up and threw them in the fire! The golf course, Mum said 'only a one legged man or a mountain goat could play on it' The 'new' golf club was Redburn House I think, a huge lovely old building. We spent most of our time in the 'woods' and fields above the golf links - the water reservoir we named lake Africa because of its shape. We saw foxes, badgers, rabbits, squirrels and more.. and enjoyed swinging across the ravine, climbing trees, exploring and having barbecues and parties in the woods.
There was another old house in Redburn park, as it is today, with an amazing driveway lined with Rhododendrons of all colours. It had a wonderful back garden with a pretty wee house, just the right size. I used to brush it clean, fix up the roof inside and find scraps of material for the windows. I'd bring my dolls to have a tea party - it was my little house, no one else knew about it...... I used to collect arms full of bluebells, posies of primroses and wild roses to bring home. I once brought some lovely white blossom home and was sent packing with my Hawthorne bunch of bad luck!
Mum had a school bell she used to clang when it was meal time, at least she knew we were within hearing range.... though in those days no one had to worry.
We loved collecting blackberries along the Old Holywood road and fields, then enjoy the jams and jellies Mum made from them. In our garden; raspberries, strawberries, red and white currants, gooseberries, loganberries and apples if there were enough left after we'd shared them with the birds, they were so sweet. My favourite picnic sandwich was of our home grown tomatoes... My father, Francis Raymond (MIckey) Moore, joined the RAF and was sent to Singapore about 1940 (he took his golf clubs) and ended his days in a Japanese prisoner of war camp. I will always remember the day The Telegram arrived, it was devastating for my mother, we didn't know what to do apart from calling Aunty Ena, her friend and neighbour, down the road....
Before Christmas we all; Mum, Ena, Judy, Michele and I went in to the spinney to collect holly and ivy to decorate the house, singing carols and competing with each other to find the white holly and the one with berries on. If we went walking at night Ena and Mum would wear hats or berets and Mum would have a pepper pot and a hat pin in her pocket, just in case. The hats were to protect from the bats that were under the trees at the end of the road..... Also they had heard of some man flasher in that area as well! We always had a dog, whether it had followed us home or what - Dad used to breed Lakeland terriers, so we always had lovely puppies to play with. We once had a collie, RobRoy, who loved to round up the cows in the back field and the sheep on the golf links. He also took the bus at the bottom of Jacksons Road on the main road to Belfast, he was then put on the next bus back to Holywood, and the police used to phone and say, "your dog is back from Belfast Mrs. Moore, will you come and get him?".....
We had a pony and trap, the first pony was called Dolly, she must have been quite old and was sort of slow, she did fine for a couple of years, then Mum had to trade her in for a younger one and we got Joey, he was a black beauty with a white star on his forehead, Mum used to ride him and taught Judy to ride. She was able to exercise him in a field on the Knocknagoney road. The Blacksmith was out there as well, when Joey needed re shod we all went to watch. Judy had been told to get rid of the warts on her hands to put them in the water that the horses shoe was cooled down in. So she did and I put my hands in just to find out how hot the water was - well, Judy got rid of her warts and believe it or not, I got them....
Recently, I was amazed to see an old barn there with straw bales outside where we once held a barn dance - it is just the same as it was all those years ago... There used to be a horse trough along that road where - it had a name plaque on to a Dunville estate owner (Mum said he wouldn't have touched a drop of water - too fond of the whiskey!) The Holywood House down Jacksons Road was billeted out to officers and soldiers; they allowed Mum to graze Joey in their fields and used to encourage him to queue up for breakfast with them to watch him chew toast and marmalade. We would take down his oats and bran later in the day. Otherwise he was stabled in the garage, when he needed fresh hay we would go along and up Whinney Hill to a farm to fetch it. We enjoyed riding and singing to the swish of his tail and the sound of trotting hooves. Once we went in to Holywood with pony and trap, Mum dressed in a red Chinese outfit complete with coolie hat, that Dad had sent from Singapore. We had red Chinese slippers and were in fancy dress, not sure what festival it was..... but was great fun. We used to go to a hall down Church Road for our ration of cod liver oil, malt and orange juice, we even looked through some clothing one time and got lovely coats. Mum made all her own clothes and ours, we had some beautiful dresses, she also made lovely toy cloth animals (one Christmas I got a 'Susan Rabbit' complete with organdie apron and carrot) which she made to order to make some extra cash...
She was able to go to the NAFI stores in the Palace Barracks (army barracks) down Jacksons Road for rations as well. We went to the fishmonger in Downshire Road and the butcher in the High Street, also the ice cream parlour and Mr Allen's chemist shop. Otherwise everything was delivered. The bread man called with the best bread I have ever had - lovely white, Vida, soda and anything else you fancied. The man with pony and trap to sharpen the scissors and shears. The 'herrings alive' man also with pony and trap - we had fish every Friday, the milk man, the coal man who carried it all in to the back yard and coal house. The rag and bone men with their horse and cart, the chimney sweep and the gypsies. If the milk bottles were left on the kitchen windowsill the blue tits would peck through the foil and drink half the cream. We helped Mum make butter, she had a special large bottle that we took turns shaking until it became butter...
We had German prisoners of war in an old part of a monastery in the back field, they used to be marched along our road and we would call out 'achtung' to them and whatever else we could think of. We all had a bit of a scare when one escaped. For the first time I can remember we had to make sure the doors were locked! The Americans also marched by, we called out 'any gum chum' and would be handed some long packets wrapped in paper and foil, which we all shared....
Later on after the back field had been cleared, Judy and I explored the ruins and found some old German bibles and tunnels, which led to a Nunnery towards Bangor, through the woods. Judy wrote about it to a Mickey Mouse comic competition which she won and the article was published. She was inundated with letters from around the world wanting to know more about Holywood.
Every Christmas we would go carol singing, we had a group of around 7. Judy and Frankie decided that any monies would be put towards a holiday fund to Europe. We were very well received around Holywood and brought in to lots of homes to do encores. We were rewarded with cakes, biscuits fruit and money. The barn dance in Knocknagoney was also a good money raiser..
At Halloween we did knock on doors, but only for a few sweets, we would rather watch all the different fireworks going around and burn the witch on the bonfire.. which, for months we had piled up in the back field.
We all went to Sullivan Upper, I was one of the girls that danced round the Maypole trying desperately not to cross the ribbon the wrong way. We had a very good under 14 hockey team around 1948/9 we did very well that year. We also had great Easter hostelling breaks with Mr Hawthorn each year. We had lots of teachers, most we had nicknames for, they were really very apt and comical....
Summertime was spent on the beaches around Holywood, along the shores and cycling to Cultra and Helens Bay for a picnic and swim. Sometimes going to Granny Moore in Bangor to stay, she let us bake scones and rock buns, we played on the swings and beach at Ballyhome. Our Uncle Ken also let us stay in his caravan at Bundoran, parked right on the beach.... When it started to snow in Wintertime, school would come to a standstill, we couldn't wait to get home, slide up and down the road as it froze and snowball everyone. A kind neighbour, Mr Maxwell, had made us a toboggan, so when there was enough snow, out it came and we all pulled each other along the road and into the golf links by the spinney, we trundled up the slope and had lots of rides down, we would be there all day and at weekends would be allowed to go out in the moonlight.... We seemed to have an Idyllic childhood and very fortunate to have lived in the time and place we did.
I would love to hear from anyone who remembers the Moore family in Demesne Road and often wonder what happened to childhood friends - and to hear their memories as well....
My mother Peggy and I left in 1962 for Central Africa. She was killed in a car crash 1964 in Lusaka, Zambia. Judi is still in Durban, Natal. Michele in Halifax Canada, and I have just come back from Cape Town. Now in Co. Fermanagh

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