Multifunctional Or What?

A Memory of Daventry.

Reading some of the uses that this grand old building has been put to over the decades, brought back memories of my earlier years in the 1960's where the Abbey buildings frequently featured. Probably the first visit I was not aware of, because in the late '50's the post natal clinic was held there. I do remember tagging along with my mum and new baby brother to pick up the tins of powered baby milk. I've still got one of those tins full of rusty nuts and bolts somewhere.
The town Cub 'pack?" met there on a Monday night. I went once and it seemed that the main activity involved small boys running around shouting as loudly as possible. I didn't go again, but I do recall 'Akeyla?' was a large bearded man who I later knew as the guy who swung the frankincense burner in church on a Sunday.
On most Friday afternoons and in the school holidays there were often activities for schoolchildren taking place in one of the upstairs rooms. The room was also used for the frequent jumble sales that used to take place on Saturdays. You could get a cake and a glass of pop if you were lucky.
In the mid sixties, my brother and I sang in the church choir. Well, he sang, I’m not sure there’s a definition for what I did. That allowed us to attend the parish breakfast held in the Abby building after communion on Sunday morning. The choir got it’s own table. It was the one with no marmalade and an empty marmite jar. I still remember scraping around that jar trying to get the last trace of marmite to put on my toast. Once, a kind lady noticed this and passed us the marmite from her table. Ken Ward, the rector pounced on it and removed it before we got anywhere near it.
As a result of being in the choir we developed a friendship with Steve and Andrew Ward, the rectors twin sons. We spent much of our weekends and holidays hatching all manner of schemes in the garden of the rectory. No social media in those days, and the only ones with access to computers were International Rescue. On one occasion the Rector agreed to do some typing for us and took us to his office in, yes you guessed, the Abby building. On another occasion we wanted some wood to build a tree house. The Rector told us to look in the room opposite his office which could have passed for the town dump. It had to be seen to be believed.
Well that was the Abby building from this childs perspective. You knew bits of it but never got the full picture. The last time I was in the building must be 20 years ago now, when I was invited into the ex-servicemen’s club.
Not bad for a building where at one time or another, each part had been condemned as unsafe for public access.
Dave Cairns 2017