In the middle of The East Riding of Yorkshire is the village where I was born. As my father was the headmaster of the village primary school, I was born in the school house which came with his job. That is the school house above. My mother had already cracked out two baby boys so she felt she didn't need to attend a hospital in order to push her third and biggest baby into the world. It was behind the right-hand window where I first appeared, weighing in at a healthy ten pounds and ten ounces. Reportedly, my mother said, "Phew! That hurt ever so slightly!"
As Dad contemplated retirement, he realised that there would have to be some action with regard to housing. The school house belonged to the local council so it was effectively a council house and when Dad retired he knew we would have to get out. So in his mid fifties, savings were scraped together and the house below was duly purchased. It was on one of the residential estates that were developed in the village in the late sixties. We moved in in 1970.
Dad only had one year of retirement before he died. That was back in September 1979. Mum hung on there for a year or two before selling up and moving to smaller house on the village's Barley Gate estate. It had two dormer bedrooms upstairs and was rather pokey inside. I never liked that house but of course I never had to live there, having flown the nest in 1972.
Mum died in 2007. My younger brother was still living in the house and her death happened to co-incide with a plunge in the housing market. So a house that had been valued at £165,000 found a much smaller price ticket attached. What is more, the fish were just not biting. It has taken a few years, but finally the house has been sold.
Split four ways, the money is of course handy but it is kind of sad that I now have no physical or family links with the village. It's a sixty one year old connection that is forever gone, unless in the course of time my younger brother moves back into the village. So many memories.
What brought that on, I wonder? Was it an anniversary today? I like this post, in spite of it being rather melancholical.
ReplyDeleteThe building where I was born does not exist anymore. The old Ludwigsburg hospital was replaced by a modern structure in the 1970s, I believe. All the other houses where I lived so far (7, not counting the current ine) are still there but I am not sure I have pictures of them all - otherwise I'd like to do a similar post.
What brought it on? Simply the fact that the last house has just been sold. My children were born in Nether Edge Hospital, Sheffield but that maternity hospital was demolished several years ago so they'll also never see again the place where they were born.
DeleteThe end of an era is always sad. It's not too far for a day trip if you fancy a run that way.
ReplyDeleteYes Adrian - just sixty miles. But with no family there any more, the motivation to go is hugely reduced.
DeleteI was born in Liverpool in a hospital that is still there and in which, at the age of 16, I received life-saving surgery (although I didn't know that at the time). My parents' house is still there although they are both dead. As a child I was proud of being a Liverpudlian. Despite family and friends living there (none of whom now do) I had absolutely no connection with the city after my mid twenties. Now all I have is memories and a certain pride in being part of that once great city of Liverpool at an interesting and exciting time.
ReplyDeleteYou must have been a lad in Liverpool during the height of the Mersey Sound. I bet you met or had some connection with one or more of those legendary musical figures. Was Cilla Black your first girlfriend? Did Ringo live next door? Perhaps Gerry Marsden and the Pacemakers burgle your family home?
DeleteThey were interesting times in many ways Neil. Yes I did go to the Cavern. Yes I went to the same school as John Lennon (and even had his maths text book - if only I'd known then that that wacky Quarryman would become that famous). Yes I knew someone who knew Priscilla White. Yes I went to the same prep school as the Liddel twins. Liverpool was a big city but a small place.
DeleteWhat a lovely house in which to be born!
ReplyDeleteI was born in a house at 51 Merrick St. in Pawtucket, Rhode Island, so I am a true Yankee's Yankee, hailing from east of the Connecticut River (in spite of the fact that most of my life has been spent in Texas, Florida, and Georgia with brief sojourns in Nebraska and New York). I left Rhode Island at the age of six and have never returned. I do not know whether the house still stands. The house in Texas in which I spent the years from age 7 to 17 has long since been razed.
I can understand how you feel, YP. When Dad moved, it meant the house where I had lived since the age of 10 was sold and that was a bit sad. I keep thinking though, that I would love to be able to go back and see what the new owners have done to it. :)
ReplyDeleteWhenever I pass the house where my grandparents lived I feel quite sad. I spent a lot of time there with them being the oldest grandchild and now it looks run down and sad. It's not always a good thing to go back.
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