A boy growing up in Wateringbury c. 1955 by Nick Bond

This is where I always sit when I take car numbers.  It’s right on the corner of Canon Lane and the main road.   I write down the car number, the make of the car and where it’s made.  Fords are made in Dagenham, Jaguars are made in Coventry and Austins are made in Longbridge.  I see other cars too, like Morrises, Rileys, Wolseleys, Hillmans and Humbers and motor-bikes like BSA and Norton.  They’re all English cars and bikes.  I don’t see any foreign cars but I wish I did. If I get stuck on a car I look it up in my Observer’s Book of Automobiles which I’ve always got it in my pocket.   One day in the Summer an MG sports car stopped and the driver asked me the way to the village. He had the roof down and there was a lady with him. She smiled at me.  She was nice.  I don’t do vans and lorries.  I put my bike against the seat.  It’s my sister’s blue two-wheeler and I’ve only been riding it a little while after I stopped using my trike which is green with white mudguards.  I’ve fallen off loads of times and grazed myself a bit but it’s all right.  Riding a two-wheeler is really good fun and a bit tricky but I love it.  When I’m finished taking numbers I ride home past the church.  That’s where we go from school at Christmas and Easter and some other times too.  I had to read the lesson from the Bible once standing up in front of everyone.  I was so scared but Mrs. Collins our Teacher said afterwards that I did very well.  l like Mrs. Collins she’s nice though I don’t like school much.  My school is called Wateringbury Primary School.  I don’t really like the men teachers because they get cross with you.  Mrs. Collins reads us stories when we’re in class.  I always want to look at the book Mrs. Collins reads from because it seems to have loads and loads of stories in it. Sometimes, when Mrs. Collins is reading to us some of the class go to sleep. It’s funny because you’re not supposed to wake them up.   Miss Kellam-Smith is the Headmistress. I’m scared of her but I do know that she’s got a Hillman Husky and keeps dogs called Chows, I think.   And she smokes cigarettes.  I sit next to Caroline who I like a lot and sometimes we are the milk monitors for our class.  We all get the same amount of milk in a small, glass bottle with a straw but some children have a small bottle of orange but I don’t know why.  We use a plastic thing to push down onto the bottle top to open it.  When everyone’s finished we have to put all the bottles back in the crate. We walk in twos from school to church and sometimes I walk with my friend Ida or my friend Michael and when we get to church we line up outside the porch and look at the big stones next to the path.  There are names and numbers on the stones and I think people are buried under them.  When we’re in church we sing hymns like “We plough the fields and scatter” and at Christmas “Oh, come all ye faithful” and listen to Canon Soar tell stories about Jesus. I quite like going to church but we have to be very quiet.  Then we all walk back to school.  We go right past the top of the lane where I live.  It’s called Mill Lane and I can just see the gate to our house if I look down the lane.  Sometimes I want to run across the road and go home but I know it’s not allowed. On the way back we go past Mr Bolt the newsagent where my Mum buys my comics like the Dandy and the Eagle.  I wouldn’t go into Mr Bolt’s on my own because it’s all dark inside and smells funny - I think it’s the newspapers.  We also pass Mr Furze the Grocer and over his shop front it says “Service with a smile”.  My mum taught me that.  And we pass Mr. Towns at the Post Office and opposite the Post Office is the Youth Club where my Mum serves drinks in the evenings on a Friday.  My sister goes there, she’s older than me and they do dancing to records sung by Buddy Holly and Elvis.  I can sing like Buddy Holly.  Then we walk a bit further and get to the cross-roads and turn left up the hill to school.  There’s a ladies clothes shop on the corner which has funny, orange plastic curtains in the window so you can’t really see the clothes and the orange makes them a funny colour anyway.  If you go straight on you come to Maidstone which is big town near us.  When we get to school it’s usually dinner time so we have to line up again after we’ve hung up our coats. Everyone has their own hook. Mine’s got a picture of a parrot on it.  Mrs. Long does the dinners and we have dinners like shepherd’s pie and apple and custard and sometimes Semolina that’s my favourite.  If you get strawberry jam and drop it into the Semolina and then whiz it round with your spoon really fast it goes all pink.  I love it.  We also have salad which I don’t really like.  When I was little I went home for dinner with two older girls called Hilary and Margaret who walked along with me. After dinner we go outside and play.  Sometimes we swap Whitbread Inn Sign cards.  I’ve got loads and some of them are metal which is interesting.   I love all the different colours and pictures on them.  Some of my friends skim the metal ones across the playground but I don’t because I think it’s a bit dangerous.  The boy’s toilets are in the playground and if you want a wee you go in and you have to stand outside and it doesn’t smell nice.  From our playground I can look across and see the hop garden. I think I’d like to be there.  I know my Dad’s there.  Anyway, sometimes on my way home I go into the Post Office and get an OrangeMaid lolly that I eat as I walk.  They’re fourpence.   I walk to school and back home on my own now.  Mum meets me at the top of Mill Lane when I get there and watches me cross the road.  At Christmas we have a party at school.  The main hall is laid out with long tables and everyone has a drink of orange and a hat and cake and ice-cream and there’s the smell of candles burning and glue from the streamers that go across the room and are stuck to the walls and there’s a big fire in the stove and sometimes we get presents.  And there’s a big Christmas tree. My Mum gives presents to the Dr.Barnado’s boys and girls who don’t have a Mum and Dad.  She gives the boys Dinky toys but I don’t know what she gives the girls.  They all live together in a big house.  Michael is one; he’s a friend of mine.  When there’s snow I get a lift to school sometimes with my Dad or one of the other Dads who’s got quite a big Austin car.  We pick up other children on the way and they all get in the back or the front.  I can sit in the front because I’m one of the first to be picked up.  Sometimes we have six or seven of us in the car.  We all squeeze in. It’s fun.  When we get to school we change out of our Wellingtons and put on our plimsolls.  Then the whole school goes into the main hall for assembly.  We sing a hymn like “Onward Christian Soldiers” and say “Our Father......” and one of the teachers talks to us and tells us things.  This happens every day.  Anyway, this is my house.  I live at Mill Lane House, Mill Farm, Wateringbury, Kent, England, the World.  My bedroom’s at the back and looks out over the tennis court which is really just a big, grass lawn with a tree called a Silver Birch right in the middle.   Sometimes I shoot arrows out of my bedroom window to see how far they go.  Once I got one all the way up to the greenhouse at the end of the lawn.  My Dad says I should watch out that I don’t hit Mum’s washing or I’ll “cop it”.   Our house has got a back-yard, garage, workshop, rockery, steps going up to what we call the tennis court, a Summerhouse with a thatched roof and a huge tree next to our gate.  It’s called a Yew tree and Dad says that its red berries are poisonous and not to touch them.  So I don’t.  Across the road from our house lives a man called Admiral Moore.  I see him sometimes and he says hello.  Once I threw my hat over his wall and he threw it back – it was funny.  An Admiral is someone who is in charge of a big ship.  My Dad’s manager of Mill Farm.  He grows apples and hops.  He says he’s a pomologist.  He taught me that word.  He’s got an office down in the yard.  It’s a really big farm and I’ve never been to the end of it.  I go down to the yard quite a lot on my bike though you have to dodge the spray if they are spraying the apples in the orchard next to Mill Lane. The spray is all yellow and doesn’t smell nice and you don’t want to breathe it in or get it your mouth.  It’s used to kill aphids and red spider, my Dad says.  Aphids are tiny insects that get into the apples and my Dad showed me a red spider once.  They’re little too.  Sometimes I take my cart which our gardener, old Vic, made for me.  It’s got pram wheels and you steer with your feet on the front axle.  The axle is the part which the wheels are fixed to at each end.  I get a good run-up and then go as fast as I can down Mill Lane to see if I can get from home to the yard without stopping.  Down Mill Lane it’s a bit narrow. Once I crashed into the hedge but that was alright really.  I go fast and I have to steer round puddles and use the hand brake which got stuck under the cart once and turned it over.  I fell out and cut my knees but it wasn’t much.  The cart was alright and that was the main thing.  When you pass the pond you go left round the mill and the track goes down so you can pick up speed.  One day I met my Dad coming the other way in his car and I had to go straight into the stinging nettles.  That was a bit bad and I had to rub Dock leaves into the stings which helped but my legs were covered in stings.  I did cry a bit, I suppose. When I got home Mum put pink stuff called Calamine lotion on the stings which was cold but it sort of helped.   After I’ve had a run down Mill Lane I have to pull the cart all the way back home again.  I love my cart and when I’m driving it I pretend I’m Stirling Moss in his racing car.  One day my sister fell into the pond.  We were there with some friends and they said she went down under the water, came up and went down under again and then came up again.  She was all wet and had green bits in her hair.  I didn’t know what to do really and I sort of cried a bit but we walked her back up Mill Lane to home.  My Mum came out and took her straight indoors.  On a Friday the fish-man parks outside our house.  He’s got a green Bedford van but when he opens the rear doors it’s all white inside and there’s large lumps of ice all smoking and loads and loads of fish in trays and a fishy smell.  My Mum gets kippers for my Dad and plaice for me.  A plaice is a flat fish sort of grey colour with pink spots.  The fish-man slices it up and gives it to Mum in newspaper and he throws bits of fish to our cat Misty.  If Mum gets some I know we’re going to have plaice and chips for tea.  It’s my favourite.   On Saturdays and in the holidays my friends and I play around the farm.  In the orchards we build forts out of apple boxes.  We make a square of boxes and then build them up really high so when you climb to the top you can see a long way and the boxes sway about so you have to be careful not to make them tip over.  The boxes smell a lot of apples.  Sometimes we might take an apple off the tree to eat.  You’ve got to make sure you’re taking an eater and not a cooker because they’re not sweet like an eater.  Then you’ve got to give it a good wipe on your shirt or something in case it’s just been sprayed.  Sometimes the fort does tip over which is a bit dangerous I suppose but really funny.  Anyway, we have knife-throwing games because we’ve all got some sort of knife like pen-knives or ex-army knives or sheath-knives.  Mine’s got a horn handle and five inch blade.  I wear it on my belt in a sheath.  We use our knives to sharpen straight sticks to make arrows and cut thin, straight branches to make bows.  You cut a notch in each end of the branch and fit your string and tighten it and you’ve got a bow.  With arrows, you strip off the bark, sharpen one end to a point and cut a notch in the other to fit the string of the bow.  We never cut ourselves or anything with our knives because we’re using them every day and know how to use them the right way.  There’s always loads of string around because they use it for the hops.  My Dad is in charge of the hops and the hop gardens.   Our hop garden is really big; you can’t see the end of it.  To get there you go past the Mill and carry on up past Canon Key’s house along a narrow track with a wall on one side and suddenly you come out into the hop garden.  There’s rows and rows of hops and hundreds and hundreds of hop poles.  Sometimes I go into a row and take a handful of hops and put my face in it.  I love the smell of hops.  I know that our hops are called Goldings.  In September loads of hop-pickers come to pick the hops.  There’s hundreds of them and they arrive riding on the backs of lorries with their tables and chairs or in old cars all the way from London. They bring their children with them too but they aren’t like us, they look as though they want to fight you and they’re a bit dirty too.  My Mum won’t let me play with them – I’m not sure I want to anyway.  The ‘pickers live in huts around the farm but they don’t have electric light or water.  Well, there is a tap outside the huts which they use.  And they build fires and sit round them.    They have fights too so my Dad said.  He says it’s because they drink too much beer.  One night the policeman came to speak to them – and there was a fight so my Mum said.   It’s always the end of Summer at hop-picking time and near the end of the holidays too and me and my friends are outside all day and right up until teatime and sometimes after tea and our arms and legs and hands and faces go all brown in the sun.  It looks really funny ‘cos the rest of you is white.  I really like that time of year when the hops are being picked.  What we do is we wait for a trailer to come by on its way to the kiln really piled up high with hop pokes full of hops and then we climb right to the top when the trailer’s moving and the driver can’t see us.  When you get to the top of the trailer you can look down on the tractor driver or you can lie on top of the pokes and have a ride down to the oast house.  When we do that I just want to go to sleep because the tractor and trailer is going really slowly and it’s hot and sunny and I feel sleepy.  But you’ve got to still make sure you’re hanging on tight but it’s like lying in a bed.  When we get to the oast house we have to climb down really quickly so we don’t get seen.  Sometimes we go into the Oast house which smells really strong and shuffle amongst the hops.  We kick them up and cover ourselves in them and rub our hands with them.  If you rub your hands with green hops they go all brown and smell funny - your hands, I mean, not the hops.   You’ve got to be careful in the oast because there’s a hole in the floor where they fit the pocket.  The dried hops are pushed into the pocket by the men and then when it’s full the pocket is sown up.  I’ve watched them doing it loads of times.  Sometimes the driver leaves the tractor’s engine running.  I like to stand and watch the tractor – it shudders and blows out smoke and it’s like it’s alive.  It’s blue and a Fordson tractor.  In the hop field my Mum does the tallying.  Tallying is when baskets of hops are emptied into a big round metal bin. She does that all day and makes notes in a notebook.  At the end of each week my Mum and Dad pay the pickers.  The pickers line up outside my Dad’s office window which has got bars and they get paid their money.  In the office is where my Dad keeps his shotgun.  He says it’s a 4/10. I don’t know what that means but he let me shoot with it one day. I fired at a metal drum.  When I pulled the trigger there was a bang and the drum went flying and I went backwards.  Afterwards I looked at the drum and it was full of little holes.  I asked my Dad if I could have another go but he said no.  I used to go with my Mum sometimes when she was tallying but there’s not much to do except watching the men cut the hop bine or ride on the mudguard of the tractor.  It’s really bumpy and you have to hold on really tight because the driver sometimes goes fast and it’s really noisy and smoky.  Or you ride right at the back of the trailer and let your legs dangle over the end.  It hurts a bit because you’re bouncing around and hanging on tight at the same time but it’s really good fun.  After tea I ride my bike round past my Dad’s office when he’s there.  I go past his office, up the slope, go right past the hop dryers - that’s the best bit because as you pass the open door of the dryer you get a hot blast of air, then you hit the cold air, then you get a blast of hot air from the next dryer then you hit cold air again and then you’re at the top where you go down and go right, along and then past my Dad’s office again.  I go round and round making lots of wheel tracks.  When I get home in the evening my Mum takes me and puts me in the bath and then bed.  She says a little prayer which I listen to but I’m sometimes asleep before she finishes.  Then it’s morning again but straight away.  It’s funny.  Sometimes I stay in bed for a while listening to the Rooks in their nests quite a long way away.  A Rook is a black bird – quite big and goes “caw, caw, caw” and builds its nest at the top of tall trees.  As well, I love to watch the Swallows swooping and diving and building their nests right outside my bedroom window and listen to them tweeting.  They fly so fast.  At the end of the hop-picking my Dad gives me a 10 shilling note for being really good.  Sometimes my Dad drives me round the hop field in our car which is an Austin Somerset.  It’s a bit bumpy as we drive round and sometimes my Dad stops to talk to someone and he can be gone ages.  Our car is black and it’s got column-change.  That means that the gear lever is just under the steering wheel and not on the floor.  Also, the hand-brake comes out under the dashboard.  I know what all the switches and knobs do on the dashboard but I’m not really allowed to touch them.  Dad says he’s going to teach me to drive when I’m a bit older – I can’t wait.  Sometimes, if I’ve got my bike I go into the orchard where it’s easier to ride.  I’ve got some tracks I’ve made for riding round really fast.  Once a tractor and sprayer slid down into a ditch - a long way down.  I went to see it and it was a bit scary as the driver was hurt so my Dad said.  The tractor and sprayer were on their side still joined together.  It did look funny.   When I’m not with my friends I like to lie on the grass in our garden and watch the clouds go by and listen to the birds singing and watch the trees blowing in the wind and feel the warm sun on my face.  Sometimes I might read a book like The Wind in the Willows which I’m reading right now or I chase Butterflies – there are so many around with so many colours.  I wish it could be like this for ever but I sort of know it won’t be.  Anyway, that’s what I do when I’m not collecting car numbers.

As written and sent to us by Nick Bond

       

The War Memorial and Church Hall

 

The War Memorial and Church Hall.

This was how I remember the corner of the Cross Roads, Bow Road and Tonbridge Road to be in the 1950's & 60's before the War Memorial was relocated to the grounds of the Church.

The Church Hall was then often used for Jumble sales and was also the venue for regular meetings of the Youth Club. Inside the hall there were two separate areas, the main hall with a stage and a room that was the kitchen.

Annual visit to Wateringbury

 Hi John,

It's been a while since I communicated with you - too long!

I visited Wateringbury last week and after parking in the church lay-by went for my usual walk: down Mill Lane past Mill Lane House where I lived until December 1959, down to the pond (into which my sister fell and was pulled out soaked and covered in weeds), passed the Mill in which we were specifically told not to play - but did anyway (naturally) then turned left into the yard passing what was my Dad's office on the left and then climbed Love Lane, with the gushing stream coming down from the left bank as it always has, then up to the main road. Then turned right towards the village.  Incredibly, I passed by a Pillbox which I'd never seen before but must have been there all the time I walked back and forth to school!  I assume it was completely overgrown until recently. Then to the crossroads and left up Red Hill and stopped at the top opposite where my school used to be. I crossed over and found the outline of the school lay-by now filled in.  Then down Red Hill to the crossroads (there used to be a double trap-door in the pavement that led down into the basement of "Where Memories Meet" (only it wasn't called that then). Then right at the crossroads and forward to the Church and on my way trying to see over the long wall on the right hand side.  I couldn't when I was 5 and still can't now!  The church was open and I paused for a while therein.  I can still remember being asked to read the lesson one day in front of the whole school: a terrifying experience.  

I return every year or when I'm passing by.  I have so many happy memories of growing up in Wateringbury - precious memories I'm trying to retain.       

 

Thanks and a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

 

Nick Bond        

The Pickett Family - Wateringbury

Another fine donation by Brian & Ann Skinner which reads as follows:-

Have attached the next batch of pics which relate to the Picketts. My wife Ann is the youngest of three daughters of Bert and Mabel Pickett.

Pic. No. 1 Shows Westbury Cottage ( On the Mereworth Road just passed David's nursery - Bijou Nurseries) where the three girls were born and it is thought the family lived there until 1936 when they moved to 1 Hoyfield Villas, Station Road. We recall that a few years ago the Kent Messenger included an article headed something like 'The Manor Born' showing that the cottage has now grown beyond all recognition.

Pic. No. 2 Shows an article about Bert which appeared in the 'House of Whitbread' spring issue 1938.

Pic. No. 3 We believe shows the Wateringbury cricket team and Bert 4th from the right in the back row. Judging from his apparent age we think this might date to the late 1930 s.

Pic. No. 4 Shows the Wateringbury football team and Bert 5th from the right in the back row and again judging from his age think this might date to the late 1920 s

Words & Photos Courtesy of Brian & Ann Skinner

Janet Whitlock (nee Barden) saw this entry and responded as follows:-

The Pickett’s featured a lot in my life.  Mrs Pickett and my mum Daisy Barden were very good friends and were very involved in the church activities at Nettlestead.  Mrs Pickett’s daughter Molly was the organist and choir mistress when I was in the church choir.  I have a photo of the choir with Molly outside Nettlestead church on her wedding day.  My mum and Mrs. Pickett both lived to a ripe old age and I remember calling to see Mrs Pickett when she was around 96 years old and living in a retirement apartment where the Telegraph used to be.  My mum was lucky enough to reach her 100th birthday and we celebrated this at the Wateringbury Hotel in 2004.

  

WW1 & WW2 Memorial - Wateringbury Church

In response to Pauline Sellars enquiry on the message board relating to the family of Bowles.
I'm not sure how they are related to Pauline, but there were a family of Bowles who almost certainly lived in the first of a row of cottages, known as Boorman’s Cottages, which still stand on the east end of Old Road. Later, in the 1950s, there were two women with the surname Bowles who lived in a cottage in Pizien Well. This cottage is also still there.

Regarding Pauline’s relatives Thomas and Eliza Bowles' sons:
The name of their son Thomas Richard Bowles, who was born in Wateringbury in 1884, is on the 1914-1918 War Memorial inside Wateringbury church (see 1st attached photo). I don’t know which year he died, but he served on H.M.S. Lion as a Wardroom Messman.
Thomas’s younger brother John Bowles (known as Jack), who was born in Wateringbury in 1896, was in the Merchant Navy. He was unmarried and lived with his sister in the family home at Boorman’s Cottages. John was a Chief Cook on M.V. Melbourne Star (London). He died on Friday 2nd April, 1943, aged 47. His name is on the Tower Hill Memorial in London, panel 69, and also on the 1939-1945 War Memorial in Wateringbury church (see 2nd attached photo).
Hope this is helpful,
Dail W.

Photographs courtesy of Dail Whiting

Wateringbury Village Hall

Wateringbury Village Hall or Church Rooms as it was known then.

I took these photographs on the 2nd May 2005 just before the hall was demolished to make way for the new hall. This hall was opened in 1901.

I remember the church rooms being used regularly on Saturday afternoons for jumble sales. I always found something to take home and specifically remember buying an album to store 78 rpm records in, took it home and put all my mums records in it closed it up and broke most of the records!!

When I was a little older the village hall became the youth club which in my day was run by Tony Powney from upper mill (Tony had a daughter Vanessa) with the help from Tony ???? the local bobby.

Several of us would run a disco and we raised enough money to buy a Marshall amp and speaker and I made the lights out of old TV sets that I got from work.

Do you remember any activity in the old Village Hall?

The above photo was taken on the day the War Memorial was unveiled.

Cutting from The Church Magazine relating to November 1959

 

A Cutting from the Church Magazine

 15th November 1959

Ernie Morgan was my Grandfather who lived in New Cottages on Bow Road

Here I am with My Grandad Ernie in my neighbours garden at New Cottages not long before he passed.

Reader AE Stephens writes

We received a short email from what seems to be from Australia which reads as follows:-

--<>--

I lived in Wateringbury Station House from 1956-1957 'My father Leslie Mayes was Station Master.  Dad had Teston Halt  and either East or West Farleigh under his control also. Ken Philpott was one of the two porters. I would be happy to see more history of the area. AE Stephens (Mayes)

Regards,
AE Stephens( Nee Mayes) 

 --<>--

Additional mail from Anne:-

Thank you for your prompt reply to my email. I only came across your site
yesterday and I am not overly cluey with computers so this will be trial and
error. I now live in Adelaide South Australia (since 1960) My brother Malcolm
went to Wateringbury primary school I attended Maidstone Technical Girls
high School. Because of the position of the station we were more involved in
St Mary the Virgin Church Nettlestead where I was in the choir and other
activities. Our Rector was Reverend Barton There was a long yard up to the
actual station with a bank and huge blackberry hedge between the yard and
the brewery. ( Where the school is now.) Our house was part of the actual
station buildings with our lounge window below the level of the platform. We
could only see the passengers feet. The rest of the house was further along
over the booking office and porters room. My father had an office near the
new foot bridge. We were very lucky because the railway embankment protected
us when the river flooded. One other thing I remember was the numbers of the
Buses I caught. The number 7 ran through Wateringbury and the Number33 ran
down past the station.
About 10 years ago my older brother obtained a DVD from the cab of an
electric train from Maidstone West to Paddock Wood along the former steam
line and then through Tonbridge to London Bridge. I see that the old Station
House still stands but nothing else is the same. Sadly just after we left a
young boy was killed crossing the line after getting off the train. I
believe his name was Jones and his Father was Lay Reader at St Mary's
Church.
Lastly for now I remember when a beer tanker over turned just up the hill at
Teston. I was on the bus coming home from school and we were held up
briefly. All of the kids on the buses were joking about drunken fish in the
river because the beer drained down the hill. Will try and send some
memories later. Many thanks Anne Stephens.
P.S. We were in Wateringbury   from 1956-57 to May 1960 ( not clear last
time)

St John's Church Wateringbury

I was Christened at St John's Church Wateringbury on the 2nd August 1953 on the same day as Thomas Frederick McKirdy published in the above magazine.

The Old School on Red Hill

This was the painting I did in about 1963

By a strange coincidence over Christmas I was invited to a private event at the present Primary School in Bow Road Wateringbury, which I had never visited in its 40+ years of existence.

Whilst there I was very keen to see if there was anything of the old school still in use and in particular any photographs of the old school.

In the main lobby outside the Headmistress office there were several photographs on the wall. Some were of the old railway station next door but most were group pupil photos, the earliest of which was 1994. There was one line drawing of the old school which was drawn by a ‘manager’ at the school for a calendar, I have asked if I can have a photo copy and will publish it here when I get it. With one exception all the photographs were after 1994 and relevant to the new school. That one photo was stood next to the trophy cabinet and was of the Wateringbury C of E Primary School Nativity play of Christmas 1961 in which was myself; I could hardly believe that of all the years the old school stood the only photo in the new school included myself. 

 

 

 

This is the Photo taken Christmas 1961 by the Kent Messenger at Wateringbury Church.

Let me know if you are in the photo, I am the boy in the sweater with dark hair third from the left at the bottom, to the right of the girl holding the baby Jesus (Jane Chapman). Dawn Shippey is the shepherd at the very front right, only her head is visible, to Dawn immediate left is Gladys Haskett, Dawns sister Valerie is the dark haired girl in the front of the second row from the right of the choir stalls, next to Valerie is Angela Seamark. Angela's brother John Seamark is Joseph, right of the central three. Farthest right, the girl in the button up sweater is Jennifer Shrubsole. Gillian Apps is also in the photo.

Teachers at the school over the years:-

Mr Peter Reid was Head Master from 1958 ish and all the time I was at the school 1958 to 1964.
Mrs Duffy who had a large spotty dog and lived in the village next to the garden shop in Tonbridge road (her daughter also went to the school) also there 1958 to 1964.
Mrs Bennet took the infants when I was there and I think some years before.
Mrs Drake took the 6 year old's class before 1958 (her son Julian also went to the school .
Miss Kellam-Smith was the Head Mistress 1947 - 1953 and Sherry Apps remembers that she brought her 2 dogs to school with her and she smoked DuMaurier cigarettes and she used to send Sherry to the post office (run by Mr & Mrs Town) to get them for her.
Mr Robinson, Miss Simmonite.

I remember being in Mrs Bennets class when about six and sitting listening to a regular afternoon programme on the radio. The radio was obviously government issue and was about two foot square and a foot deep sloping towards the top which had a handle on it. a large round grill in the center protected the speaker. The radio was on a shelf above the heater which was a large round cast iron coke burner with a lid on the top which was opened with a metal tool and the burner was filled using a long scuttle. In the winter the milk crate (as we all had a third of a pint of milk a day) full of bottles of milk, often it would be frozen from standing outside, would be stood next to the stove to thaw out. Around the stove was a horseshoe shaped guard which had a black crossed mesh with a brass rail around the top. Often the children's wet shoes and socks would be dried around this heater.

Wedding Reception at Wateringbury Working Mens Club in 1954

Colin Brotherwood kindly sent us the below:

My Mother and Father ; Jean and Lionel Brotherwood got married at Wateringbury church on 6th November 1954.
Looks like they had their reception at Wateringbury Club. Here is a copy of the bill for the drinks. Just over £12. Amazing.

Wateringbury School Nativity Play 1968

My brother Brian Gilham is Joseph in this photo which was taken in the old school hall. When I was at the school, the nativity play always took place in the church.

The clock features again in this photo, is this now in the new school does anyone know?

Can you add some names to the photo?

Tonbridge Road Wateringbury

Who were the ladies in the Church Rooms entrance porch ?

6th June 1960 - an Invoice for a Wedding Reception at The Kings Head Hotel

A very good friend recently passed away and in the Wedding Photo album was a copy of the receipt for the Wedding Reception. He and his wife were married at Wateringbury Church on the 6th June 1960 and after had their Wedding Reception at The Kings Head Hotel Wateringbury.

This is a copy of the invoice for the reception.

I was surprised to see that 10% had been added for staff gratuities and a charge for the Solicitor's and court fees for the extension. I am sure £121 was a lot of money in 1960

RIP DAIL WHITING 13/10/1943 - 15/04/2025

RIP  DAIL WHITING   13/10/1943 - 15/04/2025

A Very Sad post indeed. The following is a copy of the post in this months Wateringbury Rostrum but I just wanted to add a personal note as I will miss Dail so much.  We had regular chats on the phone or exchanged emails whenever someone asked me a question about the village or its people.  Dail was so helpful to me with her invaluable knowledgeable of Wateringbury and its people but was always cautious not to publish anything that may offend families even very many years after the event.  We are so lucky to have so much of her knowledge on the website where hopefully it will remain for others to find in many years to come.  My thoughts are with Mike and her family and friends. 

From the Wateringbury Rostrum May Edition

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            Dail Whiting was a true daughter of Wateringbury. She was born here in 1943, and after a few years away returned with her new husband Mike in late 1976. They have lived here ever since.

            Dail's vast knowledge of Wateringbury people from her childhood, together with a passion for history, led her to engage in some extensive research and write two editions of her book substantially building on George Newman’s recollections of Wateringbury in the 1840’s. The second edition was titled “Wateringbury In the Steps Of George Newman, and Beyond.” From her book, her three essays on the Wateringbury breweries were reproduced in the Summer 2002 edition of the journal “Brewery History”.  She was also a regular contributor to John Gilham's “Wateringbury Remembered” and became the 'go to' person for anyone enquiring about Wateringbury and its inhabitants.  Dail's research abilities were also used to produce booklets on Wateringbury’s WWI, and later WWII soldiers, which she then donated to our church.  Dail will be remembered as one of the most significant Wateringbury historians of recent years, and for her outgoing and captivating personality.

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The Mill Pond and Church

Then & Again

The Tonbridge Rd from the cross roads looking towards Tonbridge with the post office on the right by the man and his cycle. The War Memorial was located on the corner and later moved to the Church grounds.

The road sign is now on the opposite side of the road 

but it has lost the top circular section.
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As it was

March 2011

Canon Reginald Herbert Soar Wateringbury 1961/62

 

Recently being asked for a photo of Canon Soar, I found this in my family album. 

It was taken by my father of my brother Brian's Christening at St John the Baptist Church Wateringbury circa 1961/62

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The below article courtesy of Dail Whiting

Article courtesy of Dail Whiting

Boys of Wateringbury Church Choir 1905

Courtesy of David Alchin

Some really well known village family names in this photo

Aerial Shots taken around 1985

 Photo Courtesy of Dail Whiting

A view of the west side of the village which includes St John the Baptist Church, Wateringbury Place at the bottom of Canon Lane, Bijou Nurseries on the Tonbridge Road, and the eastern end of Old Road. The photograph also includes the Upper Mill and pond towards the top right, and Allington Gardens just visible top left.

Photo Courtesy of Dail Whiting

This shot focuses more on the south east side of the village, and apart from the various estates off the Bow Road, it shows the area around the crossroads,  Wateringbury C of E Primary School, Wateringbury Station and the River Medway. The playing fields are in the foreground, and interestingly West Malling Airfield, now Kings Hill, can be seen at the top of the picture.