August 2010

Your letters

Flying Club Days

Your article ‘Memories of historic gliding club’ (June) brought back many of my own memories.

I first came across the then Newcastle and Teesside Gliding Club on Carlton Moor in 1961 at the age of sixteen when I was tramping across the moors with my father one weekend. The whole family ended up joining the club. My father, Tom Shepherd, eventually became secretary, and my mother Rita became treasurer for a while.

I learnt to fly mainly on the Slingsby T21 you pictured, although the T31 tandem glider was purchased by the club later on. I went solo aged sixteen on a Kirby Tutor – an open cockpit single seater.

I spent many happy times soaring up and down the edge of Carlton Bank, sometimes as far as Hasty Bank and the ridge above Ingleby Greenhow. Launches were by winch (usually a converted single deck bus engine).

I well remember the road maintenance – which involved rock breaking with heavy hammers. I was also there when the hangar was delivered – at least as far as the bottom of the club road – where our tractor and trailer stepped in to help.

The original clubhouse was a long wooden hut with three derigged gliders stored at one end, with sleeping quarters in the middle and living room/kitchen/womens ‘dorm’ at the other end.
One memorable night as we all prepared to go home someone came running back into the clubhouse to say there was a “celestial phenomenon” visible outside.

It was an aurora – beautiful sheer folds of green voile hanging in the night sky. We watched for ages. When we got back down to Carlton village all we could see was a greenish tinge above the glare of the street lights.

My parents continued gliding until my father’s job moved in the early 1970s. I still have my flying log book.

Carol Hunter, Canterbury

Missing out on a great book

Thank you for the very interesting article, ‘Memories of RAF Danby Beacon’ (July).

At the end of April we paid our annual visit to the area and on the Monday visited the Moors Centre at Danby.

When it was time to leave we could not find my wife. We eventually discovered her part of the way through reading the book of memories and I think she would have spent the rest of the holiday finishing it if she could.

It is a great pity that this interesting collection is not available in printed form, on CD or on a website.

John Fisher, Peterborough

Old times in poet’s corner

When I was a little boy, I was brought up in an area of Bradford called Poet’s Corner.

Our family lived in Southey Place. We called our dustbin enclosures ‘middens’. They were usually sited between the outside toilets.

When I was sent out to the midden, I was usually getting the job of putting the rubbish out. When my wife Gloria sent me out with some rubbish this morning, I cast my mind back to those times in the 1940s. But believe me, the old midden looked nothing like our pretty bin store.

I’ve never read anything about Poet’s Corner in your magazine and I have been a loyal reader for many years.

I can remember some of the names of the streets: Butler Street, Wordsworth Street, Shakespeare Street, Byron Street, Browning Street, Cowper Place, Coleridge Street, Fryston Place, De Gray Street. I wonder if any readers can remember any others, or indeed those middens.

Thanks for a great magazine.

Brian Gott, by email

Our coat of arms

I first came across this description of a Yorkshireman (July, p71) on the Sykora coat of arms (a copy of which I have framed hanging on my kitchen wall).

This was, I believe, drawn up by an offcumden – possibly a Lancastrian – attempting Yorkshire humour. Also linked to this was the true definition of a Yorkshire man:

See all, Hear all, Say nowt!
Eat all, Sup all, Pay nowt!
And if tha dus owt for nowt do it for thi sen!

The revival of this coat of arms (pictured below) was the result of a collaboration between businessman Fritz Sykora and illustrator Caroline Miekina. Mr Sykora is not a Yorkshireman but claims honorary status after living here for over thirty years.

He found this coat of arms on an old postcard and Caroline improved the artwork and turned it into a proper article. The article goes on to say: “It is fitting that such global acclaim should have been caused by only an honorary member of the county, as the Yorkshireman’s greatest qualities, as everyone knows, are honesty and modesty.
We are honest enough to admit we are the best, and modest enough not to shout about it. Too often.”

I have owned this Yorkshire coat of arms for over thirty years now – it must have been done in or around the 1950s. Writs should be issued in the name of our poor brethren from without, Mr Sykora.

John Ison, by email

If it ain’t broke…

We are told that film-makers are working on a brand new TV series, The Dales. I would like to ask why?

We had a very good series already in Dales Diary with Luke Casey. Why this very watchable programme was taken off TV I will never understand. It was easy to follow and presented superbly.

Anyone wanting to know about Yorkshire and the Dales only had to watch this. Don’t waste time and money, just bring it back.

Mr K Challenger, Goole

Name that tune

While Ian McMillan’s ‘Old Feller’ may have been brought up to believe that “there was nothing Christmassy about ‘Ilkla Moor Baht ’at’” (June), I would have thought Mr McMillan would have known better.

As every true Yorkshireman and -woman knows, even those of us exiled in the Red Rose county, the tune to which the Yorkshire National Anthem is set is ‘Cranbrook’, written by Thomas Clarke in 1805, and that this is the tune to which the carol ‘While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks By Night’ used to be sung as an alternative to the more familiar ‘Winchester Old’.

Nah then, Ian lad, tha surely couldn’t get anything more Christmassy than that!

Kenneth Akroyd, Bolton

Ed – Thanks to all the other readers who wrote in to put Ian right.

Nearly a water birth

I have just paid a subscription for the Dalesman and in the April edition imagine my delight on reading the ‘Waterton’s War’ article by Sheila Williams with the photograph of Waterton Park Hotel, as this is where my son was born in 1956.

It was not a hotel then but was Waterton Hall Maternity Home. I particularly remember a patient arriving by ambulance and then having to be carried by stretcher for admittance, due to the moat.

I have lived in Leicester for many years but at heart I am still a Yorkshire lass. Thank you for happy hours of reading.

Mrs Joan Smith, Leicester

A different language

Many years ago I found myself standing on the Barrack Square at the Guards Depot in Caterham, and the only man out of twenty-five without a rifle.

Along came the inspecting officer, fresh out of Sandhurst, to give us the once over. When he got to me he saw I had no rifle and in a very posh Surrey accent, he said “Where is your rifle my man?” I replied in my West Yorkshire accent, “Nivver been ge’en wun su.”

The officer was taken aback, “What part of our fair land do you hail from?” he asked. “Huddersfield, West Yorkshire”, I replied. Now this man was no fool, he put his training into first gear and appealed to the squad, “Does anyone understand what this man is trying to tell me?”

A voice from the rear rank came to his aid, it was guardsman Chambers. “What part of the Kingdom are you from?” the officer asked. “South Yorkshire su, a village between Doncaster and Barnsley su.”

“Come on then, tell me what he is saying?” “What ’e is trying to tell tha su, is that ’e’s baht.”

With that the officer looked to the heavens for a moment then with an icy glare turned to the drill instructor and said, “Drill them Sergeant, drill them”.

Robert Craven, Huddersfield

Family Quest

I am currently researching my family history and trying to contact relatives far and wide.

My grandfather, Joseph Blackburn (1885-1955), married Florence E Blackburn neé Franklin (1890-1975).

I believe I have a connection to the Franklin mill owners in Bradford, and there is also a link to the mining community in the Rotherham area.

I would be grateful for any information or advice on how to find out more.

Philip Blackburn,
email: blackburn814@btinternet.com

The Dalesman website contains a comprehensive alphabetical section on people searching for their Yorkshire roots. Please click here.

Can you help?

I am urgently trying to find any information regarding a war time plane crash in Pudsey, at an area known locally as Dawson’s Corner, around 1941/42.

I was a lad of ten then and remember it well as, with a lot of other lads, I was fishing in a mill dam for tiddlers when the plane crashed.

Being lads, we dropped our homemade fishing gear and ran to Dawson’s Corner only to be held back by the police.

I seek this information for research work on Pudsey and would so appreciate any information, and if possible, photographs or newspaper cuttings of this event.

John Middleditch,
49 Pembroke Road, Pudsey, Leeds LS28 7NE

We are an informal group of old boys and girls (orphans) all of whom spent time in St George’s House, sometimes known as the Northern Police Orphanage, on Otley Road, Harrogate.

Up to its closure in 1956 it cared for over 600 children, all of whom came from Police families, mainly from the North East of England.

We are keen to hear from and make contact with anyone who either went to St George’s, has family members who attended, or may have had some connection with the institution.

For those interested, our group has developed a website which records the life and times we experienced, visit: www.stgeorgesharrogate.org.
Peter Taylor, St George’s old boy number 560.
Email: stgeorgesharrogate@gmail.com

We welcome readers' letters, which should be sent to:
Dalesman, The Water Mill, Broughton Hall, Skipton, North Yorkshire BD23 3AG
Or email: paul@dalesman.co.uk

The editor reserves the right to edit letters for length and clarity.