Primrose Valley Convalescence Home

A Memory of Filey.

I have a vague memory, probably from the early sixties, of arriving at this home on a very grey, sad day. I don’t know to this day why we went there but the trauma of being with a group of let’s say disadvantaged boys was not our family’s finest hour. I seem to remember sleeping on a makeshift bed in the office because sharing a dormitory filled me with dread. I will speak to my mother to clarify why we went there ( we lived in Rotherham) but she has early Alzheimer’s so the purpose may be unknown all I know was I couldn’t wait to leave. Every time I drive past Primrose Valley I have flashbacks of the experience. Maybe I’m over-reacting to a childhood memory but other things have diminished this one hasn’t , I’m now 62 years old. Does anyone else have similar feelings ? I now can confirm that we went there to visit the couple who had moved from next door to us to run the home. Their names were Mr and Mrs Powell , I don’t know their first names as I was too young to call them anything else.