The Village Was Small And Beautiful.The Families United.

A Memory of Chobham.

I was sent to Chobham to stay with my Aunt Dolly Mitchell, and her quiet and kindly daughters. 3 hot weeks. I watched Land Army girls ride on top of a hay rick through Chobham High Street. The girls laughed and sang as they passed by. There was the smell of new mown hay in the air, and the village felt alive.
8.1947

In 1960, I gave birth to my daughter Karen in Chobham, on Nov 1st. The baby was born naturally at home, and it was such a happy time in that lovely village. The midwife came on her bike. The Benhams grocer would deliver. The laundry was picked up. The baker delivered the bread. The insurance man would call in. The cake shop in Chobham made the best cakes and bread. Their malt loaves the best. A passing bus would pick up an old lady aged 90,and take her for a free ride about.

There was not much trafic on the road, and with farms surrounding it, Chobham was a little piece of heaven. Its wonderful church and church bells added to the feeling of belonging to a village of special people. Their accents, their own...! And proud of it. Their families honest and trustworthy.

At 19, I joined the Chobham Red Cross, we would meet in the little hut at the back of the church. How wonderful, as teachers were, Mrs Day, then in her 80s,and Miss Win Smith. I cycled down the High Street in my highly starched uniform, to attend pony shows. We had our stalls in the Church Hall to raise funds for the RC. I sold rhubarb jam, made by an 80-years-old gentleman, who had placed pepper instead of ginger in his jam...there were no complaints, because the people of Chobham knew this gentleman, and would not complain. That is the character that people had then, way back in time.

The High Street is almost as it was then, but take away the traffic first to envisage it. Memory is a precious thing as time passes. Chobham High Street - I stand there after many years away, travelling 1300 miles, and simply remember... Happy Days...
Maureen