My First 21 Years

A Memory of Queensbury.

I was born on 5th July 1948, we lived in one of the houses behind the Wheatsheaf hotel. Our neighbours there were the Wilcocks and the Browns. My Dad, worked as a driver for a furniture company and a coalman and I remember he used to ride a motor bike. We eventually moved to Hillcrest Drive and the Browns and Wilcocks were still our neighbours. Bobby Brown was my best friend right through primary school at Queensbury and middle school at Fox Hill. Bobby was cock of the school, so was a good mate to have. I served my apprenticeship as a blacksmith/welder with F Carter and Sons at Ford Hill. In the day, my cousin Terry and I were I think, the only Mods in Queensbury. All the other guys had motorbikes, but Terry and I rode our scooters. But as we had grown up with all the rockers in town we got by without any major dramas. I emigrated to Australia shortly after finishing my apprenticeship in 1969. I did not return until 19 years later when my family threw a party for my 40th birthday at the Conservative club. I have been back twice more since that. I went for a walk through the village on google maps road view the other day and was sad to see that Carter and Sons building is gone and there have been a few other changes - but the place is still recognisable. I remember fondly places others have mentioned in these pages; Littlemoor Park, Shibden Heads, Mountain and Shelf, I could tell some stories about these places but they are probably best kept betwen the participants. Someone mentioned the Medway Fish shop - I was the first customer in there when they first opened and a regular at least once a week. I remember a simpler time when my friend Gordon and myself would head out to shoot a few rabbits. We had to walk past the police house at the end of Wridgeway with shotguns under our arms, I was 14 and Gordon was 13. Sgt Thrower would often be in his garden as we walked by and would just ask where we were going (usually just behind Littlemoor Park) and tell us to be careful. Sometimes we would take our guns on the bus down to Boothtown where my uncle had some land and nobody worried about a couple of lads carrying guns. Yes, I have many fond memories of Queensbury but have never regretted moving to Australia as the place has been good to me, and I am now quite comfortably retired.