Worstead, St Mary's Church c1955

My Family from Sloley

Hi, my name is Mel and my grandad was the landlord of the Maid's Head in Sloley in 1955, his name was Alfred Faulkes. If anyone has pictures of him (my father is Alfred and Rose's son Brian) it would be great to hear, as I am doing my family tree.
Thanks

Looking For Help To Create Memories Of Westwick

Let me introduce myself. My name is Stewart Addley and I live in London, Ontario, Canada and I’m a descendant of John Berney Petre, Esq. of Westwick, born 1806, died 1882.
My great grandfather is Berney Seymour (Petre) and he was a photographer in Aylsham and lived on Commercial Road,  with his own business, born 1852, died 1904.

With that being said I'm looking for any help from persons that would have known the family or have pictures handed down from family members or would know who lives in Westwick House at the present day,or a phone number.

My grandmother came to Canada in June of 1912 and I have some information listed on my website http://www.starsplace.com/life_stores.htm

I would be most grateful for any information.
Stewart,   email   star@starsplace.com

westwick

I was born in a farm estate cottage amongst the fields at Westwick. My father had been born in 1919 just up the road on the edge of Swanton in a small cottage , two up,two down , his father had lost a leg in the great war and had been set up as a shoe maker there ,during the fifties we had moved away but even now i think of that little house where my grand mother lived,as home,Dad went to school in a small weatherboard place up near what the locals still called , the high road , or the turnpike, My father alledgedly shot the hands of the school clock, it made a change from poaching! When i was small there was still people getting around with a pony and trap, and horses were still commen, There neighbour was a mister Rump , a shepherd on the estate , The thing that stays with me is the silence, on a sunday ritual visiting nanny, i remember the silence, people could be heard speaking several hundred yards away, indeed most people spoke in whispers, the local saying was that "These walls have ears" and was almost true, the odd motorcycle could be heard up on the "pike"usually a B.S.A. or Norton single, popping away, sometimes a train whistle, but almost nothing else, how times have changed, In my dads youth the road to Nth Walsham went past "the seat"and the road was called "many corners" for obvious reasons, and in winter sometimes almost impassable,as were most of the villages, I remember Mr and Mrs Howlett , a gentleman farmer ,he had the first lovely old Riley car i had seen , Sadly memories are slowly fading.But i still think of the fields of grain and beet , the chickens, wandering free range , and locked in little mobile sheds at night ,The horse and carts spreading the muck from the cows in early spring , clods of it along the laneways, Pheasants and rabbits scattering as i rode along on my bicycle on a sunday morning, the almost total lack of traffic once off the main roads, The smell of a flower garden drifting in the warm air, roses and wallflowers, hollyhocks, and apple and pear trees in spring blossom, and my grandmother leaning over the garden gate waving goodbye, that will always be the westwick of my youthfull memory.

Faulkes Family

Hi, I'm Mel and I am loooking for information on my family the Faulkes. My dad was born in Scottow Row, my grandad and nanny were Rose and Alfred and my great grandparents were William, known as Old Billy, and his wife was Elizabeth Kidd from Cotishall. My grandad planted a holly tree when my dad was born in 1938 and I went back a few weeks ago and it is still there! If anybody has any information, also for my grandad's siblings Reggie, William and Edith, it would be great.
Thanks.

Canon Peter Nicholson

I was a pupil at the Paston Grammar School from 1936-42. It was a wonderful school where boys from all over N.E. Norfolk made many friends so that when they left school and started work in the area, they co-operated in so many ways. Major Percy Pickford D.S.O., M.C. (Oxford and Bucks Light Infantry) was the headmaster. He had served with great distinction in the First World War and was very keen that we should all join the school Cadet Corps. During the war, the East Lancashire Regiment drilled in the playground and we all stood around and watched and looked forward to the day when we could join the Forces. On the playing field, the soldiers would carry out signalling practice with Aldis lamps so I leaned the Morse Code so I could note down what they were saying. This served me in good stead when at seventeen and a half I joined the Royal Corps of Signals and served in Italy and India. I bought my first foreign stamp album at Leeders shop for the princely sum of one shilling. I think stamp hinges were a penny a packet. We had some very good teachers: Mr P. B. Birkinshaw gave us a solid grounding in English; Mr N. S. Lachlan taught Latin; Mr Norman Cutting, organist of Cromer Parish Church, taught music; Mr S. G. Hare taught science; Mr S. Hare taught History and Geography and always gave a special lecture on Empire Day; Miss Emma Limb taught art; Mr C. G. V. Couper taught History and P.T. and Captain Brown taught wood and metalwork; Mr H. Grantham-Hill taught Maths. During the war three senior boys took turns to firewatch each night. We would sit in our two-hour shift in the staff room window and watch for "enemy action"  One evening, a farmer's son was on duty with me. He brought in several eggs from the farm and so we crept down to the science laboratory late in the evening and started to cook the eggs over a bunsen burner. The door opened after a while and Mrs Pickford walked in and said: "I don't really think you should be doing this in  here". We felt sure we would receive the cane from her husband the next day but, no, she did not tell him. However, when I became precentor of Peterborough Cathedral, a party of ladies from Norfolk came for a tour of the cathedral and the Dean told me that as I, too, came from Norfolk, I had better take them round. The last lady through the door was none other than Mrs Pickford. She recognised me at once and said "I'm sure they don't let you fry eggs in here". Happy, happy days. Thank you! North Walsham.