The Parish Magazine September 2022

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22 The Parish Magazine - September 2022 feature — 3 Tales of a Sonning lad from the It started, with coffee after the Wednesday communion in The Ark. I was talking to Bob Peters about how Sonning used to be years ago. He asked if I lived in the village and that was his big mistake! I usually can't remember what I did yesterday but then various flashbacks came to me and the more we talked, the more I remembered about the church, the choir, the village shops, the river and village life. He asked me to write it down . . . CHURCH AFFAIRS As an 11 year old lad, I joined St Andrew's Church choir. There were not many village lads so, in term time, we were supplemented with boys from Bluecoat School. Joining the choir was quite an ordeal! It was rumoured recruits were initiated by being thrown into a bush by the path to the church entrance. I don't remember being thrown into it — I was lucky! The bush is not there now so new recruits are safe from this ordeal. There was, however, another daunting obstacle — the scary choirmaster and organist, who I shall call Mr L. Friday night was choir practice. If you missed it you were in deep trouble from Mr L when you arrived for the service on Sunday. My word he was fierce! We would try to sneak into the vestry without being seen and escape at the end of the service without being caught and hope he would forget about it by the following Friday! We left our bikes in the old mortuary (now the St Sarik Room which is used as the choir vestry). The mortuary table, where the bodies of people drowned in the river were laid, was still there. This was spooky enough. It was also dark! One Friday someone found a bust of Cannon Pearson in the mortuary and hung it by the neck from the rafters. When we arrived with our bikes, there it was hanging in the dark! Needless to say we never put our bikes there again and the culprit was never discovered. Another scary tale involved a large yew tree. It was said if you closed your eyes and ran round it seven times you would see the face of the devil! Enough to scare anyone! Sadly, that yew tree is no longer there, it was a casualty of the 1987 'Michael Fish, there will not be a hurricane' storm. The wood was used to make some splendid church furniture. HIGH STREET LIFE The High Street was a sleepy place, except for the cars that cut through to Thames Street. However, it wasn't always that way. There was once a thriving commercial life with Mrs Edward's shop, Bert Huggins' butchers, Adams Grocery, which later became the Thrift Shop, the parttime Midland Bank and even Mrs Prior's front room from where she sold sweets on Sunday after church. As a teenager I worked at Mrs Edwards' general store on a Saturday morning delivering groceries to people in the village, one of which was Robert Beatty, a very famous actor in those days. I delivered groceries on a bike with a basket on the front — strangely, it was the same bike my dad, Bob, had used when he was young. It was a bit rickety but it did the job until one Saturday a large lorry changed the shape of it outside the shop! lt was completely crushed — thankfully I was not on it! Mrs Edwards was unimpressed as it meant the purchase of a new delivery bike, but I was delighted because it was a considerably upgraded model that was far less squeaky and rickety. The highlight of my morning was when I had my break and always enjoyed a Lyons individual fruit pie. Yes, they do stilI make them! I also nipped into my house in Pound Lane for a second 'unofficial' break, which I hope Mrs Edwards never found out about! Opposite Mrs Edwards' shop was Bert Huggins butchers. It was a small, quiet shop yet Bert had an assistant whose sole job was to sit in a little kiosk taking the customers' money. Surely a case of overstaffing! At the bottom of the hill was Mrs Edwards' competition — Pembroke's grocery shop. Imagine, two grocery shops in one village. Pembroke's was taken over by the Adams family and later became the thrift shop, an antique/curio establishment. There was not a parking problem in those days and I could glide down the High Street on my new delivery bike and come to rest against the shop front where a convenient groove under the window was where the frame of the front basket fitted. The highlight of my delivery boy days was asking Mrs Edwards for a pay increase, to my shock and delight I received one, which meant that I earned the princely sum of 10 shillings — I was quite wealthy! In the quieter moments I would go to the shed at the back of the shop where the stock was stored and unpack some of the boxes. Needless to say it was a good hiding place which always had the overriding smell of soap powder. I always wondered if Mrs Edwards suspected that I was taking rather a long time to unpack the boxes. Eventually, I would be found and had to get back on the delivery bicycle. I was 19 years old when I retired from this job — well passed a lad's retirement age! VILLAGE SCHOOL DAYS My school days seem a very long time ago, over 60 years in fact. Some memories are very vivid. The village school was in Thames Street — it's now a private house, although it looks the same, except a large leaded window at the front has been replaced. I remember clearly the day Christopher (no surname to protect the guilty) was being disruptive, as usual, and threw a black plimsoll — an item we all wore. It missed its intended target but hit the leaded window shattering one of the panes. We all went very Images (from the top down): Ian Clarke today Ian Clarke by one of Ben the Boa Sonning Lock in the 1960's from Sonning High Street in the early Magazine archives
The Parish Magazine - September 2022 23 'Fifties and Sixties' By Ian Clarke tman's boats in 1958 the Hoyle collection 1900's from the Parish quiet and I'm not sure how long it was before Mr C, the head teacher, discovered it. He was furious! On another occasion, the same miscreant was accused of taking money from the blind stocking. He was sent to the bottom of the school field, where a stream ran, to choose a stick with which he would be punished. Times were different then. We watched in horror as the dust rose from Christopher's trousers in the ray of sunlight which streamed through the large leaded window. These punishments were common and were designed to help us develop real 'character'! A mass 'slippering' occurred when a group were caught stuffing grass down the outside toilets. I was falsely accused and also got 'the slipper'. It still burns to this day. Ah! Those toilets, the scene of much misbehaviour and more than a few naughty pranks. Lunchtimes saw us walk, crocodile style along Thames Street and into Pearson Road to the infant school — also now a private house — where we would have lunch. The smell of cabbage still hangs heavily in the air for me, and whatever was sago and the awful synthetic mashed potato we had to endure? Village school life then was very different to today's education system, with small classes, everyone learning the recorder, or not in my case, and desks where you could lift the lid and graffiti inside to make them your own. Whatever happened to those desks? Probably costing a fortune in a trendy antique shop! HAPPY RIVER HOURS As it is now, the river was an integral part of village life. We spent many happy hours breaking today's health and safety rules and probably alarming our parents — if they found out. The front of the White Hart — now the Great House — was filled with beautifully varnished wooden punts. These were our playground, much to the annoyance of Ben the boatman from the White Hart boathouse. When Ben was not around we played on the punts, running across them. When he appeared we were in real trouble! He could be a real tyrant, although we probably deserved it. There was an ice cream kiosk near where the boats were kept, and another one by the, then, wooden horse bridge. We were well catered for then. The mill was a working flour mill and not a theatre restaurant. I have vivid memories of my brother being terrified of the ventilation cowls on top of the mill. It was very busy until 1969 when Huntley & Palmers stopped making biscuits in Reading. One of the fun activities was watching the steamers going under the 1775 built brick bridge. Their chimney had to be lowered to get under the bridge and we always mischievously hoped that they would get the timing wrong and the chimney would strike the brick arch. It may have happened but we never managed to witness it. We weren't always up to mischief and could at times be helpful. We loved going to the lock which had wooden gates that had to be opened manually by pushing on long wooden bars. We would line up along the bar to give a big push to open the gates and then run round to the other end to let the boats out again. Again, disregarding today's health and safety rules, we would swim in the river, particularly at Stoney Bay, further along the tow path on the White Hart side. It was a great place to swim and we thought little about pollution, currents and other dangers associated with rivers. It was safer than swimming by the bridge where a number of serious incidents occurred over the years. The river was, and is, a very attractive place to relax and have fun. Picnics were common and it was a great place to while away a sunny afternoon and to see how many cygnets were produced by the swans on the island situated in the middle of the bridge — and to see how many boats failed to navigate cleanly through the arch of the bridge without hitting the sides! TRAVELLING SALESMEN Sonning was a hive of activity in the late 50's and 60's. There was no Asda, Tesco, or Waitrose, however, a number of visiting tradesmen plied their wares around the village. We eagerly waited for the Corona man, not to be confused with coronavirus! His vehicle was laden with fizzy drinks in those unique ceramictopped reusable bottles. What happened to them? We also had visits from the rag and bone man, the fish and chip van, and the Baylis grocery van. I vaguely remember the muffin man walking around with a tray of muffins on his head, or did I imagine it? My brother, Terry, and I were also involved in this plethora of activities. In 1966 a coloured newspaper, the Evening Post, was launched and we both had paper rounds in the village. The bags could be really heavy and there was nothing worse than completing your round and finding you still had one paper left. Who had been missed? We usually found out when we collected the money! A highlight of the week was when Eddie, the Job's milkman, allowed us to help. I can still smell the diesel fumes of his van and the smell of sour milk as we made our way through the village and up to Sonning Eye. The milk was in glass bottles and they only held one pint. No plastic then. RECREATIONAL TIMES Much of our time in the 5o's and 60's was spent playing in the St George's Field recreation ground in Pound Lane, which was directly opposite the house where we lived. At the edge of the road was a wooded area called the copse. This really was an adventure playground, a dense jungle of trees and bushes with slopes and hills. It looks different these days. Then the hills seemed much steeper and the trees turn to page 25
Page 1 and 2: The Parish Magazine - September 202
Page 3 and 4: Serving the communities of Charvil,
Page 5 and 6: The vicar's letter The Parish Magaz
Page 7 and 8: the parish noticeboard — 1 If you
Page 9 and 10: the parish noticeboard — 2 Christ
Page 13 and 14: the parish noticeboard — 5 On Ref
Page 15 and 16: PLATINUM JUBILEE MEMORIES The Paris
Page 17 and 18: PLATINUM JUBILEE MEMORIES — 2 Pen
Page 19 and 20: feature — 1 Your Sonning Show & F
Page 21: feature — 2 The Parish Magazine -
Page 25 and 26: from page 23 Ian Clarke remembers m
Page 27 and 28: around the villages — 2 The Paris
Page 29 and 30: HOME AND GARDEN — 1 The Parish Ma
Page 31 and 32: HOME AND GARDEN — 2 Recipes of th
Page 33 and 34: THE ARTS Beauty in the ordinary Rev
Page 35 and 36: HEALTH — 1 Dr Simon Ruffle writes
Page 39 and 40: CROSSWORD 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 1
Page 41 and 42: CHILDREN'S PAGE The Parish Magazine
Page 43 and 44: Please mention The Parish Magazine

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