Nostalgic memories of Glasbury's local history

Share your own memories of Glasbury and read what others have said

For many years now, we've been inviting visitors to our web site to add their own memories to share their experiences of life as it was when the photographs in our archive were taken. From brief one-liners explaining a little bit more about the image depicted, to great, in-depth accounts of a childhood when things were rather different than today (and everything inbetween!). We've had many contributors recognising themselves or loved ones in our photographs.

Why not add your memory today and become part of our Memories Community to help others in the future delve back into their past.

Add a Memory!

It's easy to add your own memories and reconnect with your shared local history. Search for your favourite places and look for the 'Add Your Memory' buttons to begin

Displaying all 3 Memories

I first came to Glasbury when my father - Fred Whitchurch - became head gardener at the Maesllwch Castle Gardens. This was 1945, when I was but six years old. I went to Coedybolen School, where at that time there were many evacuees who, like us, were from the London area. However, we stayed on, and all of my schooling was either the result of efforts by Gwyn Evans at Coedybolen, or E.V.Howells and staff ...see more
Fred took Allan fishing some time in the 1950's, when Allan was in his twenties. He had just married Norah (Nina) - (her mother used to call her No). Allan remembers wading out in Fred's waders and standing in The River Wye until the moon came up. Then Nina came and called him in. There was a shed, where they kept tea and a kettle, and when they went down, they would have tea. Alli always forgot time when he was ...see more
When I was about 12 years old, with feet as thick as young, strong leather, my father, who was a pilot (Allan Dyson) and Nina (my mum, Nina actually) took us all from our home on a plot of land in Halfway House in the Transvaal (some distance from a town or city) to Glasbury on Wye. There, in the blacksmith's house, the farrier was beating iron.  We stood to watch and then the farrier asked 'What's burning?'.  We all ...see more