North Hill Village
16t November 2010.
25 years of Memories
I left the village and my family in January 2002, thinking of a better life and new beginning, You can move forward in your life and be very happy, although that doesn’t mean you forget your past and the happy times you had.
North Hill will always be very important to me bringing up a family, in a village where you could get most things you require., although the shop has long gone, certainly not forgotten, it was one of the first places to be able to buy a lottery ticket!
Village neighbours soon turn into good friends and become people you never forget. Sadly I find myself mainly going back to the village for funerals! That will change in the future as I was “taught a lesson “when refusing to stay down the Race Horse as I was “too busy” to have another drink with Betty Bott whilst attending Cliff Reynolds funeral. How I now realise how precious time is with your friends and how you cannot by it back!
I will never forget how Betty supported Sheila and myself when our boys were small, she would look after them all in Sunday school, Play group, Youth Club, Village Hall, (it goes on and on) and they all generally got on very well. Now looking back, how it was a great privilege to be around her!
The Youth Club was a huge part of village life with myself, and other leaders: Peter Goodchild, Ann Randal, Betty Bott. (to name just a few) would spend most of our friday nights in the village hall looking after, in its hay day at least 40/50 youngsters’ all ages! and generally they all got on very well! We would very often finish the evening with a joint game of bulldog!! which they all loved!
Village Carnivals were very much is evidence in my early years in the village; they were times of great enjoyment and excitement to us all spending the whole day dressing a trailer after first removing all its contents! We would start at the Race Horse and process up the road to the Village hall where the evening was filled with entertainment. People would travel as far away as Plymouth to see the procession, I have been informed the procession would tail back as far as Waycross in its heydays of the 60s.
Life moves on, I don’t miss the village today, although I certainly miss the people who were all part of our family life together.
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