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Anybody from Hackenthorpe?

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A lighthearted response

 

Well, I couldn't let this one pass without a reply, me being one of the 'aloof' an' all. My family moved from Mexborough to Hackenthorpe when I was 5 and we lived there for 13 years. I attended the old Village School near Brook Lane, then Rainbow Forge. I think I was a few years ahead of Zakesy and I doubt our paths ever crossed. I never had the 'pleasure' to meet him but I knew his ilk well (not his ink well, I doubt they had them at Birley).

I have thought long and hard about this 'us and them' situation and whilst you described your post as a 'light hearted view' it nevertheless contained many truisms. Birley School (and probably Carter Lodge) did have a large proportion of thugs, Barnsey, Sharpey, Smalley & Fewkesy to name a few, who proved their manhood by - apart from regularly beating up smaller, defenceless, outnumbered Thornbridge kids - climbing leafy trees, scaling tall walls and lassoing treestumps. They suffer from the Robin Hood Syndrome - the lovable rogue, living in some bloody greenwood wilderness, robbing the rich and believing he's performing a public duty.

On this basis, I can't deny the fact that yes, we are somehow different. Like many families who have one son a bricklayer and another son a brain surgeon. They are different but the same and one is no better than the other.

You went to Carter Lodge and became a literary legend. I went to Thornbridge, emigrated to Australia and took my Meccano set with me.

Cheers Zakesy, keep on entertaining us!!

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Read through this thread a few times. My own links to this thread are that Frank Bonnington was my dad (RIP) . Wouldn't mind seeing that picture of his old football team because i've

Never seen it. SYL please pass a copy on to Joanne when you see her.

 

I'm sure he'd be proud today. His Grandson (13) has just signed schoolboy forms with SWFC. I know we, his parents are.

 

Though it might be a nice contribution to a poignant thread.

 

Even though it is the OWLS. Lol.

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Read through this thread a few times. My own links to this thread are that Frank Bonnington was my dad (RIP) . Wouldn't mind seeing that picture of his old football team because i've

Never seen it. SYL please pass a copy on to Joanne when you see her.

 

I'm sure he'd be proud today. His Grandson (13) has just signed schoolboy forms with SWFC. I know we, his parents are.

 

Though it might be a nice contribution to a poignant thread.

 

Even though it is the OWLS. Lol.

 

hello there, this one got the old memory cells working. did your dad live at 22 spa view drive? I seem to remember a brother derek? and a sister sylvia? I lived across the road in the mid 1950s.

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Anyone from Jermyn Avenue, we lived there until 1990 ish, Collins family

 

Sorry Colly- dont know if you will see this as it is so late - Mum and Dad and sisters lived at no 20 for about 35 years upto mum dying in 2009

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Hi Buddy,

 

Yeah he did. SYL who posted above is Sylvia.

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Anybody from Hackenthorpe?

 

Hackenthorpe and Zakes Pt. 61.

 

I’ve mentioned Stephen George before in a post. I’d like to elaborate a bit further about him. Belo are 4 anecdotes involving Stephen. A fifth anecdote will follow later.

 

1. Stephen had white blond hair, was left-handed, and was a good sport, who was good at sport. He could also run very fast, because he could run faster then me. Stephen was born on the third day of March 1954, making him some weeks older than me. He lived at 19, Carr Forge Mount. His dad was called Albert, his mum, Lucy (or Lily). His eldest sister was called Linda, his other sister, Georgina. Georgina’s real Christian name was Elaine. Stephen and I were good mates at Birley Spa Junior School. I was told a fistful of years ago, that Stephen had passed away. Bless him. I last saw him when I was almost 12 years old in 1965.

 

2. I recall Stephen and I, with a host of other lads at Birley Spa Juniors, playing football in the school playground each morning before being called in for register and assembly. In the playground was a tall brick-wall that was staggered at the top (step-like, the centre of the wall at the top was the highest point).

 

Chalked on the wall was a depiction of a goal. There were no teams because each lad played for himself. The idea was to score a goal, with the other lads trying to prevent you from scoring, it was a free-for-all. The ‘football’ was at times a tatty tennis ball, sometimes a rubber ball, but often a large coloured glass marble. Football was played at playtime, and at dinner time too. The football playing was the highlight of the day for most of us. Regardless of weather, we played!

 

Some of the ‘footballers’ were:

 

Martin Wragg – Carter Lodge.

Terry Cosgrove – Dyke Vale

Tony Wharram – Carr Forge

Danny Spokes – Dyke Vale

Timothy Conroy – SpringWater

Ian Scandrett – Spa View

Andrew Morton – Occupation Lane

Robert Fowler –

Derek Beeley – Carr Forge?

Robert Evans – Spa View

Alan Fox – Cotleigh

Nigel West – Cotleigh

Martin Precious – Spa View

Gerald Dandy (later emigrated to Milwaukee, Wisconsin) – Carr Forge

Jimmy Sandford – Cotleigh

Chris Sherwood – Birley Spa Lane

Mark Sherwood – Birley Spa Lane

Martin Smith – Carr Forge

Paul Allison –

Stephen Coulson – Carter Lodge

Gary (Gus) Clifford – Carter Lodge

Paul Muscroft – Carter Lodge

 

And a few others. 1961 – 1965. Most of the above have been allowed to be my ‘Pal of the Day’ at one time or another.

 

3. I remember, having been called into school, we children would drink our free milk. A group of school mates, plus Stephen and I, would compete to see who could ‘sup up’ first. Even though we used straws, milk was often spilt all ovver t’show. Drinking milk in winter was interesting though, because there was often ice inside the bottles, making it almost impossible to swallow the milk. The milk was so cold, we wore gloves or mittens to hold the bottles. The crates of milk were stacked up outside, and it was the job of Monitors (stool pigeons) to bring the metal cage like crates indoors. The milk bottles were silver topped. The foil was saved to add to the collection for Guide Dogs for the Blind.

 

4. I’ve briefly mentioned this next little anecdote from 1963 – ‘64ish afore. I’ve had a think about it, and this version explains it better.

 

In those days, at week-ends or during school holidays, you could call on your mates. I rarely promised to meet anybody, the next day or whenever. With me, it was a spontaneous thing. I really liked to adventure alone, and would often travel (on foot, bike, trolley or scooter) far, and sometimes wide. If I wanted to play football I knew who I could call upon. If I wanted to swing from the trees shouting Ungawa at Shirebrook River, I knew who to call upon. If I wanted a session of mutual mankin’, I knew which girl(s) to call upon. It was the same with scromping, conker collecting, birds egg collecting, and attention seeking at the shopping parade on Birley Spa Lane, etc.

 

If I wanted somebody who was an all-rounder, someone who didn’t specialize in the above activities, I would generally call upon either, Nigel West, John Fairey or Stephen George. Those three also called on me from time to time. When anybody came a’knockin at the door mi mum would call (yell) to me I had a visitor. You see, one of mi mums many tasks was to answer the door. I would there and then decide if I was going out (it depended on who was calling).

 

Anyrooad, I went to call on Stephen George one particular day. Having left home at Carter Lodge Drive, I hiked up the second part of Carter Lodge Rise. On reaching the top of the Rise, I turned right onto Carter Lodge Avenue. At the end of Carter Lodge Avenue I came out onto Carr Forge Lane. I then turned right, strode a baker’s dozen paces downwards, then crossed across the road, to enter the gennel that led to Carr Forge Mount. Coming to the end of the gennel, I had already passed the Dandy household on the left, and to my right was the Leigh household. A few houses further on, on the right, was the Corporation red doored residence of the George Family.

 

I always preferred to call on Stephen than he on me. The reason for this is because it increased my chances of seeing his lovely looking sisters… they were absolutely G(e)orgeous. Stephen’s mum always gave me a nice glass of cold water. At my house, we drank water from chipped cups, nicked from the Rainbow Room Café, at Blanchards.

 

Oh yeh, back to the short anecdote… On that particular day, I had a gigantic stroke of luck. Having come out of the gennel, and having passed the Leigh household, my attention was caught by something wedged between the flagging stones of the pathway. On crouching down, I astoundingly discovered two half-crowns, side by side, stood on their edges. The coins were just below the height of the flagging stones. It was only a slight glint that had caught my eye.

 

I needed those coins, I needed them badly, and quickly too. I had to get them before anyone came by to claim them as their’s. I was shaking with excitement and with panic. I reached into the right-hand pocket of my khaki coloured shorts and withdrew my penknife (made by George Beatson-Gleadless), then with the long blade (the only blade) I worked the haif-crowns out from their hiding place. I was rich, comics and spice for a fortneet at least!

Finder’s keepers, Losers weepers!

 

Minutes later, I was in the George household. I received my usual glass of cold water from Mrs. George, and Stephen was getting changed to come out to play. I was disappointed to discover his sisters weren’t at home. Drat.

 

I was aching to announce my good fortune with a fanfare of trumpets, but I was worried I might be told to hand the half-crowns over to the Feds.

 

Having come out of the house, I told Stephen about my miraculous stroke of good fortune. He was pleased for me. A moment later, I was pleased for him too, when I saw the look (luck) on his face. He had just become 2/6 richer. I had been brought up to always share. A true story this.

 

Footnote. Well over 50 years later, I am still mystified as to why somebody would push two half-crowns down into a crack between two flagstones on a pathway. It was a lot of money for a chabby like me.

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I wonder if anyone on here can help. On a friend's behalf ( Surprise for them) I am trying to find the whereabouts/ contact details of their old friend, Barry Grayson. I only have an idea that he lived opposite the "Top Shops", a road down to the right as you go up Birley Spa Lane. If anyone can help, it would be amazing to reunite these two old mates from way back when.

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Hi I'm Ian Sands and I went to birley spa school around 1966 t0 1970 and I have some great memories of that school, the kids I remember most are Steven Dicks with who I was pals with all the way through my school years. Mark Ashton, Andrew Hull, Andrew Pridmore, Ian Steel, Ian Wood, William Simpson, Vicky Bates, Jaqueline Griffith, Ann Round and Catherine Grayson. The teachers I remember most are Miss Maxfield, I thought she was a bitch. Mr Kennedy, he was a nutcase, Mr August, great teacher. Mr Jephson, another good teacher. and the head teacher who all the kids seemed to love, Mr Rawlings. Another name I remember is Mrs Dyson but she wasn't a teacher.

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Hi just a bit off the track but does anyone know someone with the name of yan from birley or hackenthorpe in the late 60s ,was waiting for the last bus at birley terminal one night and he came up to me and smacked in the mouth for no reason ,lwas 16 he would have been about 18 well im ready to repay him hed be about 68 now and i reckon i could take him now,ps i now live in oz:

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For those on FACEBOOK, don't forget there is a site dedicated to Old Hackenthorpe called HACKENTHORPE REMEMBERED which now has 2,236 members with thousands of photographs. Why not join and share yore memories, photos & videos. Click on the link below::

 

Hackenthorpe Remembered

Edited by Lostrider

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I didn@t live in Hackenthorpe but had a friend called Martin Lawler who lived on Jermyn and I played in the under 18's league I think for Drakehouse Celtic(mid to late 60's). He went to Silver Blades ice rink and had a friend called Kenny I am Derek Yeardley.

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