Memories of Warminster

Race you to the water

I am ordering a copy of this picture to send to my dear childhood friend, Peta Fenner. Peta celebrates her 50th birthday soon and it is quite possible that both her and I are in the photo. We would spend many days of our summer holidays playing in the paddling pool. The big pool was always cold and swamped with older children and we would have to build up courage to venture there. Our childhood was filled with laughter. We would giggle at anything and everything. From peering through the holes in the wood partitions separating the cubicles at the end of the pool. To laughing at how courting teenagers behaved. I remember us nearly wetting ourselves laughing at dog ends and kinky boots. We once dared each other to wear our swimming hats through the town on our homeward journey from the park. Not a good idea as we both had long hair and removing the rubber hats later was very painful but oh so hilarious. Even now all these years later I think of Peta when I walk down Weymouth Street and I can still hear the noise coming through the hedge where the pool used to be. The pool has been turned into a sunken garden and is a delightful place to have a picnic surrounded by plants and waterfalls and so peaceful until you let your memories reappear. The paddling pool has been revamped and is surrounded by rubber matting and there is a huge blue dolphin that fills the pool. Children of my generation would queue up to sit astride the water jet that use to trickle into the pool. The bottom of the pool was concrete and worn in places so slipping over was a doddle and many bottoms got bruised sliding on the slabs surrounding the pool. We even had one of our friends fall from the top of the slide onto concrete. Thankfully she survived unharmed apart from a broken arm. The park had a resident park keeper with many full time staff back then. Flower borders were planted up twice or three time a year. On either side of the lake there were borders all beautifully kept. Not any more. Most have been grassed over which is a great shame.

Warminster is Home!

I was born in Warminster, in 1972, in what was known at the time as The Strawberry House! My Dad had painted it quite a deep pink, when he bought it.
44 Boreham Rd, that's where I was actually born, my lovely family home.
My Dad was a well known painter and decorator, Bob 'The Brush' Woollard, and my Mum, Peg, worked in Luxfords Fruit & Veg shop. I went to St. John's School, where my teacher when I started, was Sybil Fuller who lived next door to me in no. 46.
One of my favourite places was Warminster Park, where in the winter, when it snowed, my friends and I would sledge down the hill, on black bin liners, and go home soaked and frozen!
I remember Paynes, the newsagent, where I used to get the Twinkle magazine, and some sweets from my Mum, on Saturdays.
I remember Pleasures toy shop, where I loved to walk around and pick out what Santa could bring me if I was good! Talking of Santa, does anyone remember Santa coming through Warminster, on his sledge (one of Gibbs lorries!) and he would throw sweets into the street for any children coming out. My Dad would take me out, in pyjamas and slippers, and he'd go into the road to collect as many sweets as he could!
Since leaving Warminster, I've lived in Leicester and now in Bournemouth, but my heart will always belong back in Warminster...

The town park

As a child in the late 1950's and early 1960's, I and a whole bunch of mates used to go to the Regal cinema on Saturday mornings. We went through the town park as the most direct route and would often stop off on the way back to fish for minnows and sticklebacks in the lake.

During the winter of the big freeze (1963 I think) the lake froze over and the sight of all that frozen water acted like a magnet. Before long we were out in the middle, completely ignoring the ominous creaking noises all around us. When the creaking started to sound more like cracking we finally started to take notice. It's strange how ice only seems to become slippery when you are frantically trying to get off it. Fortunately we all made it to the other side unscathed and dry.

Great Meal & lovely Landlord

The Tea Rooms are charming and re thatching has taken place (every 10 years), the food served by the charming lady was superb and affordable. I glanced into the lovers nook and it is very cosy, afterwards a pleasant walk around Shearwater which is but a few yards out of the front door.  Food for the soul and eye !!

Warminster Community Website  (  www.warminster-forum.co.uk  )

The Old Bell Hotel

Well not my memories exactly, but those from my father's diaries. He was John Welch and married a Peggie Richens who had grown up in Warminster. They married in the Minster Church and he left immediately for the war. When he came back he was stationed in Westbury for a while and wanted to make the area his home. He spoke of having tea and going to dances at the Old Bell. The entries stopped and in his next diary he was back in Essex, but we stayed at the Old Bell in the early 50's and although small I can remember coming out of the door and walking through the colums, which seemed huge then. We visited the Jeffries, Audrey Jeffries still lives there and an Aunty Biddy came to see us and we visited The Frazers who ran a small school in the area. She had married and remarried but we still called them by that name. They had a small girl called Nicola but I don't know what happened to all these people. Some moved on and some left us for good. They seemed good times, they were holidays and the weather always seemed sunny.

Crickets & Formaldehyde

My mother lived in Warminster as a child and had lots of friends in the area. One worked at Longleat and she lived in what was called 'The Inkwell House' in the grounds. We went for tea. There were lots of very strange things pickled in jars & they weren't onions! The long grass outside was full of crickets. What happened to crickets in England and what happened to my mother's friend and the ink well house?