Box in 1950s June Smith (nee Shannon) September 2017
The Upper and Lower Mead Fields showing hedge before the current tree-line (courtesy Eric Callaway)
Whenever my mind wanders back to when I was a child
I see fields of cows and corn and long walks in the wild,
A brook with bends that were shallow enough to paddle in,
To take home jam jars with swimming, creepy-crawly things
Up the steep hill and into the woods looking for bluebells, blackberries and fairy rings,
Collecting the leaf mould for the garden and wood for the fire.
Oh! How busy I seemed to have been.
The swings on the Rec seemed to go so high,
The slide, see-saw and roundabout gave hours of endless play,
The noise of the trains and the clouds of smoke,
The rumbling of the ground as they came out of the Tunnel,
The hours sat on the bridge collecting names and numbers,
Oh! How I remember the thrill of seeing Isambard Kingdom Brunel.
I see fields of cows and corn and long walks in the wild,
A brook with bends that were shallow enough to paddle in,
To take home jam jars with swimming, creepy-crawly things
Up the steep hill and into the woods looking for bluebells, blackberries and fairy rings,
Collecting the leaf mould for the garden and wood for the fire.
Oh! How busy I seemed to have been.
The swings on the Rec seemed to go so high,
The slide, see-saw and roundabout gave hours of endless play,
The noise of the trains and the clouds of smoke,
The rumbling of the ground as they came out of the Tunnel,
The hours sat on the bridge collecting names and numbers,
Oh! How I remember the thrill of seeing Isambard Kingdom Brunel.
Train entering Box Tunnel (courtesy Anna Grayson)
Going to school to learn how to read and write and doing PE on a raffia mat,
Eating delicious dinners and puddings served by dear Mrs Pinnock and Mrs Fletcher,
Buying sherbet from Fudges at the top of Mill Lane,
Mr Killick, our neighbour, who mended boots and shoes,
Mr Bence, whose shop was full of groceries, who gave tastes of cheese and even soup,
Jim, the butcher, next to the Chequers, who always had some tasty meats,
Mr Schofield, who sold so many different types of sweets.
Oh! How I remember visiting all of these shops.
Eating delicious dinners and puddings served by dear Mrs Pinnock and Mrs Fletcher,
Buying sherbet from Fudges at the top of Mill Lane,
Mr Killick, our neighbour, who mended boots and shoes,
Mr Bence, whose shop was full of groceries, who gave tastes of cheese and even soup,
Jim, the butcher, next to the Chequers, who always had some tasty meats,
Mr Schofield, who sold so many different types of sweets.
Oh! How I remember visiting all of these shops.
The Market Place with Chequers pub and Hills the butchers (courtesy Anna Grayson)
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Fudge's Post Office and shop (courtesy Eric Callaway)
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I even remember Mr Bawtree cutting my hair;
The days of unisex were already there!
Going on a coach trip with Mr Miller, travelling all over the land,
Watching the cricket team and helping to hang up the numbers on the scoreboard.
To see the football team run out of the Gents toilets,
Past the Queen's and onto the Rec to reach the bottom field.
The narrow pavement opposite the Queen's to reach Mr Swift and his wife.
Oh! How careful I had to be.
The days of unisex were already there!
Going on a coach trip with Mr Miller, travelling all over the land,
Watching the cricket team and helping to hang up the numbers on the scoreboard.
To see the football team run out of the Gents toilets,
Past the Queen's and onto the Rec to reach the bottom field.
The narrow pavement opposite the Queen's to reach Mr Swift and his wife.
Oh! How careful I had to be.
Bawtree's Hairdresser in the Market Place (courtesy Rose Ledbury)
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Swift's the Chemist (courtesy Rose Ledbury)
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Bonfire night was always exciting, walking from home to home.
Watching all the fires and fireworks lighting up the sky.
Prices' Rubber Factory, I remember so well
The night it caught fire and the awful smell.
Walking around the Ley and climbing the stile at Breakneck[1]
Running by Browning's Garage to catch the bus to Bath.
Oh! How fit I had to be.
The old Bingham Hall behind the Methodist Church,
Where I went to Flower Shows and also I learnt to rock-n-roll.
The rush to St Thomas à Becket Church when a wedding was on
To see a bride in a lovely dress, plenty of confetti to take home and play with.
To hear the cows crying in Collier's field when the calves were gone.
To slide down the same field on snowy winter's day; so cold but ever ready to play.
To walk the road to Colerne when all the aircraft had their special day.
Oh! How I enjoyed those days.
Watching all the fires and fireworks lighting up the sky.
Prices' Rubber Factory, I remember so well
The night it caught fire and the awful smell.
Walking around the Ley and climbing the stile at Breakneck[1]
Running by Browning's Garage to catch the bus to Bath.
Oh! How fit I had to be.
The old Bingham Hall behind the Methodist Church,
Where I went to Flower Shows and also I learnt to rock-n-roll.
The rush to St Thomas à Becket Church when a wedding was on
To see a bride in a lovely dress, plenty of confetti to take home and play with.
To hear the cows crying in Collier's field when the calves were gone.
To slide down the same field on snowy winter's day; so cold but ever ready to play.
To walk the road to Colerne when all the aircraft had their special day.
Oh! How I enjoyed those days.
The centre of the village (courtesy Rose Ledbury)
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Miller Coaches entrance on the High Street (courtesy Rose Ledbury)
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The long summer holiday and the sun shone so hot.
We played outside in Brunel Way, where there were no cars to get in our way.
Long skipping ropes and lots of chanted rhymes gave us endless fun.
The Hula-hoop became a craze and gave great joy, followed by marbles, jacks,
And two-ball played against our shed wall.
Long games of cricket with grown-ups joining in, and football as well.
Then, when the evening came, we would play Moonlight, Starlight, Bogie Won't Come Out Tonight
All along Brunel Way, hiding behind people's gates.
We would play Tracking, which took us all over Box, as far as Box Station,
Then past the Northey Arms and back home along the main road.
Another day we would go up Quarry Hill, over by the Quarryman's and down the main road to Box
Under very tall trees which gave us so many conkers to play with.
Oh! How I remember days of endless play.
We played outside in Brunel Way, where there were no cars to get in our way.
Long skipping ropes and lots of chanted rhymes gave us endless fun.
The Hula-hoop became a craze and gave great joy, followed by marbles, jacks,
And two-ball played against our shed wall.
Long games of cricket with grown-ups joining in, and football as well.
Then, when the evening came, we would play Moonlight, Starlight, Bogie Won't Come Out Tonight
All along Brunel Way, hiding behind people's gates.
We would play Tracking, which took us all over Box, as far as Box Station,
Then past the Northey Arms and back home along the main road.
Another day we would go up Quarry Hill, over by the Quarryman's and down the main road to Box
Under very tall trees which gave us so many conkers to play with.
Oh! How I remember days of endless play.
The Upper Rec with the old Cricket Club Pavilion behind the school (courtesy Rose Ledbury)
My memories now are rushing back to me:
The ice-cream van, Mr Gage delivering the milk,
Looking forward to Mr Thresher's bread and doughnuts, a special Thursday treat.
Bert and Fred Smith's delivery vans with lots of fruit and veg and bags of crisps with salt inside.
All the fields and neighbours I remember so well.
They wouldn't believe the impact they had on me as a girl.
My mum, dad and Mike, my brother, who shared so much with me.
Oh! Thank you for giving me my wonderful memories of Box.
The ice-cream van, Mr Gage delivering the milk,
Looking forward to Mr Thresher's bread and doughnuts, a special Thursday treat.
Bert and Fred Smith's delivery vans with lots of fruit and veg and bags of crisps with salt inside.
All the fields and neighbours I remember so well.
They wouldn't believe the impact they had on me as a girl.
My mum, dad and Mike, my brother, who shared so much with me.
Oh! Thank you for giving me my wonderful memories of Box.
Note
[1] Breakneck was a local name at the time that we gave to the stile and steep, windy path that was a short cut to Browning’s Garage, Devizes Road.
[1] Breakneck was a local name at the time that we gave to the stile and steep, windy path that was a short cut to Browning’s Garage, Devizes Road.