Too Short A Stay!

A Memory of Kirby Hill.

I lived in Kirby Hill for one year from 1965 to 66, I was a 13 year old boy. I absolutely  loved my time there and have many happy memories. My Mother and Father bought the Shoulder of Mutton in 1965 taking myself and brother Frank ( then aged 7) to live in this fantastic area of North Yorkshire. My Father in fact was responsible for creating the restaurant area from what was then the beer store. I remember waiting on tables in the restaurant (at that time it was known as the Grill Room).
The Shoulder of Mutton was a favourite with the Army who used to call on their way back from the shooting range on the Moors, it was quite a regular occurance to see two or three green canvassed  backed lorries in the pub car park having deposited their cargo into the pub for a couple of pints and pie and peas.  I remember that two brothers from Whashton were regulars in the Bar, one of them was blind and was known as "Albo" and was a real character with a very dry sense of humour, my Father said he was very fond of large quantities of Newcastle Exhibition. Another great memory I have was the winter of 1965, due to heavy snow I did not go to school for two weeks, I recall JCBs clearing the roads only for the wind to blow all the snow back in again, happy days! I attended the Secondary School in Richmond and although I only spent a year there it was the best year of my school days. I played for the school under 14s football team and what I especially liked was that occasionally we used to play matches against other schools in lesson time, brilliant.
Back to Kirby Hill, I remember that the Church Warden was called Reg and that he used to come into the pub to buy chocolate and lemonade (not the demon drink for Reg). I used to be friends with Keith Walker whose Father had a farm at the back of the village green. Keith had an older brother called Brian who at that time worked on a farm in the south of England. I believe that another farm in the village  was owned by the Fenwick family. When my Father sold the pub in 1966, I believe he sold it to a couple from Scotland, if my memory serves me well they came from Dingwall.  I understand that after a relatively short time the husband died. The reason our stay was so short was that my Mother did not really take to the pub life, so shortly after England won the World Cup in 1966 we left (I remember watching the game upstairs in the pub sitting room). To this day I wondered what would have happened if we had stayed, I really did not want to move but at the age I was I had no say in the matter, too short a stay by far, great memories, great people and a great place to live.

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