Below is Anne Barber’s written history of her recollection of living in Egglescliffe. You can follow what she says in her oral history by simply clicking on the above link and sitting back and enjoying what she says.
Anne Barber was interviewed by Ruth Greenwood 28thJanuary 2017.
I am 81 years old. I have lived in Egglescliffe for 16 years but I was born in Yarm. When I was 5 I went to Preston School in Eaglescliffe, and this is during the war. I didn’t stay there very long, but I do remember during the Air Raids I would run home, and when the all clear went I would run back. My father used to get us up to see the planes coming in to Goosepool. My one worry was my father getting called up, but he never had to be because he used to go out with the police – if a house was unsteady they had to blow it up and he was in to that type of thing. He had a wonderful sense of humour. If the police came for him he used to say, ‘get hold of my arm and push me in the van’, which the neighbours would all be peeping! But my mother did NOT have a sense of humour! She did NOT!
There was an accident with a child and she was killed – it was due to mattresses that were stored at the entrance of the school. I don’t know why they were there, but this child came in late and must have touched them and she was suffocated. So my mother thought that school wasn’t good enough for me, they didn’t take care of their children, so I was sent to Egglescliffe School. My father had lived in Egglescliffe, had cousins in Egglescliffe, and he was in the choir in Egglescliffe. It was an antiquated school and the toilets were at the bottom of the yard with wooden seats. My mother always told me ‘don’t sit on toilet seats’ so I would stand but after morning prayers the headmaster said ‘someone was standing on the toilet seats and they MUST NOT! I had to go home and tell my mother that! But it was a nice school and Mr Grey was the headmaster at the time. I would catch a bus from Eaglescliffe to Egglescliffe and at lunch time I would run down Stoney Bank to my grandma, have lunch and run back again. I’m not quite sure how long I stayed at Egglescliffe, but I really enjoyed Egglescliffe school and I think my mother was wrong moving me. But then I went to a private school in Yarm called Miss Burton’s. From then on I went to Queen Victoria High School, where there were bags of homework, which I wasn’t fond of.
We lived in Beechwood Road, Eaglescliffe, which was damp. My father had made one of the bedrooms into a bathroom, which was big, cold, and he also used to put our canary in a cage there; I don’t know why but it always sat in the bathroom. We had to have an RAF man and his wife to live with us and during the time they lived with us his wife dropped a full teapot of tea, which hit my sister, and we thought she had been blinded. Eventually we found she was fine, but because of that, they left. It was just an accident, not deliberate at all. It was a happy house. We used to get presents for Christmas, probably second hand. ‘Please can I have a bike, dad?’ and I hunted the house on Christmas Eve, but nothing there. And the next morning the bike was there. I said ‘where did you hide it, dad?’ and he said ‘I hung it in the cupboard with all the clothes on top of it.’ We were really happy there, but then we moved to one of the new council houses – the very last one and being the last one it was very cold. Ice on the inside of the bedroom windows. My sister and I had twin beds and we had this one rather pretty rug on the floor between us. Every other night it was one of our turns to have it on the bed, we were so cold! 1947 was a terrible, terrible winter.
We roamed anywhere, went anywhere. We weren’t worried about anything, ever. It was lovely, we were so free. The Egglescliffe Garden Party was absolutely wonderful. When I took my little boys to it, it was the highlight of the year. The train was there. There were wonderful teas, Maypole dancing, Punch & Judy, the ankle competition, and during the film we saw at St John’s I recognised Joy Barker, who I went to school with – she was one of the daughters of the garage man, where the Art Nouveau house used to be, which was wonderful for parties. And Gordon Rigg, who was in the little play they showed on the film. I went to work with him on the bus every day. And then this lovely lady in a big hat, on the screen, and she was the lady whose house we bought.
I was in the Brownies and I did take Cubs for a while. I didn’t dance, though my sister did, every night, I think. I was a reader, I loved to read. So much so that I would pick up the News of the World when I was small, but my father would make me get rid of it! But I read everything I could. I had friends and we went to the pictures, to the Odeon, where the organ used to rise up. Then we went to the little cinema which is now a carpet place, I think. I remember going in there and ordering afternoon tea, so you had your afternoon tea while you watched the film. And I have to mention the Pot & Glass, because my husband had his bachelor night there 60 years ago! Then we celebrated our Diamond Wedding there. I did meals on wheels in the village and I remember the shop and the post office and I remember the funny little passageways between the houses. People sitting with roaring fires in cold and damp cottages. I think houses have improved because people look after them better. Very few have deteriorated and been left.
One of the people quite famous here – I’m not 100% sure – was Dick Clark. He was an artist and he lived in the village and I went to work with him. Someone told me that when the illustrator that did Rupert Bear died, he was one of the people that filled in. Everybody I know has one of his pictures but me! I would really have liked one.
Two children died in Teapot Cottage, I think it would be during the war, my mother would tell me it. It was the first house. I think what happened – and this is not gospel – the mother popped out for a chat with someone and the house went up, a house fire, and the two children died. And Daphne says that when her son was ill one night he looked out of the window and he saw this little girl walking across the Green, and she just disappeared. So maybe we have a ghost in the village. But this was very sad. But I remember their mother – I think she worked in the fish shop in Yarm.
When I first came here I knew two or three families, that my father had known, but now I don’t know anyone in the village. I think the answer is to have a dog or a baby, then you can go round and talk to everybody. But people have to work, and they just don’t have time.
Agriculture was and still is very important to the village. I love that we have a farm and I don’t mind at all the things that go past me. It’s a little rural treasure, this village. If I had my time again I would stay in this area. I haven’t moved far from Yarm – the furthest I lived was Hartburn for about 12 years, but then I came back. And my husband was born in Stockton, so he hasn’t gone far. I just love it. I have nice friends, I’m handy for Yarm, I’m in the WI and the Garden Club. I can’t think of anywhere better.