HIGH PIT WILMA

Aye Norman,MY Mother did exactly the same thing.Quizzes and questions,why are you home,you just went away......! A think most Mothers would have reacted the same way! A can picture Geordie Hemming standing on stage,saying.."Now i bet you all wish you had another day's holiday....well...thaat is exactly what is going to happen!" He said that the stationer's hadn't completed their contract on time,that we had no books,pens,or paper,etc,so we would be sent home,with a veiw to starting the next day. As he was talking,a pleasant ginger-haired kid from another school,therefore a complete stranger to me,spoke to me in whispers...."Halloww killer".. were his exact words,which struck me as a really good way to strike up a friendship! We became good mates from that day,me going up to West Lea,to his house,then over the Netherton fields and pit-heaps! That friendship was struck within ten minutes of going into the hall with 488 other pupils,all from different schools in the area! Aye,sum canny memories of that lovely building!

Hi Norman! Many many thanks for saving my sanity! I have tossed this subject of Westridge's first day in my head for months now,even though I KNEW I was right,like,HOW can you forget your first day at a brand new school,mixing with pupils from all the other schools in the area,making new friends,bullied by new bullies,etc.......? Last night, I accessed the County Council's archives,for 1957,and it does say that Westridge was erected that year,which threw me into a turmoil,then I thought,yes,theoretically,for their purposes,being on budget etc,THAT date would be the finalising of all the handover paperwork,etc.... Still,my mind said this was wrong! I started the first day in 1956,just after my twelfth birthday,when the school holidays ended in August of that year. Like you,Norman,I left in 1959,and went down the pits,and stayed in the industry till thatcher-the-hatcheter destroyed our jobs and communities. I have vivid memories of my years at Westridge,mostly good,some bad. I would dearly love to see your class photo,although you were a year ahead of me at leaving. I would also love to go back for a visit to see what remains of our old abode,cos looking from the outside,driving past,it's almost unrecognisable now!! Maybe James will be convinced that WE were right! Thanks again Norman,I am trying to place you,but having difficulty,both the Normans who were in my class sadly passed away years ago,at a very young age.

When our queen was crowned,back in 1953....was it...?,correct me...i know i shud know,we under-12's got a lovely Coronation mug to keep, to commemorate the occasion. So my older Brother and me each got one,at the old Whitley Memorial. Now,the older pupils,of which i have two Sisters who fell into that category,each got a lovely gilt embossed book,entitled....."The History of Northumberland". An entry in that book stated that the old keep dated back to the reign of King John,who stayed at the keep,overnight,as he fled from the Barons,upon the return of His Brother King Richard,from the Crusades. When Richard found out about his evil Brother's nasty deeds,he went after him like a dog at broth...so ti speak. John fled from the old keep,down underground tunnels,which led from there to the site of the old original Post Office,beside Bache's ice-cream shop,in the market-place,then farther down to the river blyth,at the bottom left-hand side of Bedlington bank,where the cliffs overhang that part of the now riverside walk. ....onto a boat and away ti France.......but they catched him didn't they. Now,when I worked doon Bates pit, I related this story,to my marra's,just taaking aboot Bedlington's history,and of course you always get ONE ...don't you?!! Big Bill,the comedian,said..."Haddaway ti hell,a bet he had a game o snooker and an ice-cream,off aad Bache...did he?!...lads,hae yi hord wat Alli says here.........[Alli was my other nickname then...]..and so the pittle-tekkin' went on so much,a wished a hadn't tried to provide a cultured conversation,away from the usual "club-taak"....like who was gaan wi hoo's wife,and who had de'ed...and so on..!!! But seriously,this historical event has never seemed to be publicised in any other history book I have ever come across,in fact,on this very site,the date of the Keeps existence,seems to conflict with this story,so who is right? My philosophy is "believe nowt wat yi read,and ownly haaf wat yi hear!!" When we were kids ,we played down where the tunnel entrances were,but never got past the first few feet,due to deep stinking water. The tunnel entrance on the opposite side of the river can still be seen. John,hae yi any info on this subject? Me and my mates,one of whom lived in the Old Hall,adjacent to the Keep,used to try and dig our way into the little tunnel which was around the south facing wall of the Keep,and which was slightly below ground level,I have a vivid image of it in my head even now,it was only about three feet high,typical cathedral-arched and about two feet wide,just big enough for a body to squeeze through.....not forgetting that the generations were smaller in those days than they are now. When Bill,[the comedian marra of mine],got a colliery house at Doctor Terrace,in Bedlington top-end,many years ago,he drew my attention to his front door,when I asked what aboot ya front door,wat's a metta wi' it?,he said luk at the size o' it!....they musta been little blokes in them days,when these hooses were built! Ye knaa wat?....he was reet!..aam ownly five foot ten...an a bit,an' aa had ti stoop ti get in the doorway!....HE is six foot two,so yi get thi jist aboot this little tunnel?!! GONE NOO! Nae proof of existence is there? Shame! Nuff sed,HPW!

Howw,a thowt it was just us lot from the aad Whitley who were masters of the hockle! Cum ti think of it,there was a lad caaled Bob Hutton,at Westridge,from Netherton,a lad who became one of me first new mates at Westridge,on first meeting him. Noo HE had mastered the art of projecting clean hockles,[not coughed up ones...just spit!....],from the end of his toungue! This was the most intriguing and unusual way of throwing a hockle...he could hit you from aboot 6 feet away....just by flicking his tongue oot in a peculiar manner. He was a great mate to be wandering owa the fields and pit heaps,as we kids did in them days,[mid-50's]. I often wonder if some of these characters are on this site and not sayin...! In the 1960's,I played in a pop group,and our singer was the funniest guy ever![sadly deceased at 46 yrs old,about 24 years ago..R.I.P. GEORDIE.] Noo HE used ti caal them.."bone jokes",referring to a hockle as a "bone",cos when they are fired they spin in the air and take on the shape of a dog's bone.......[this is a revolting conversation,by the way,hoo did aa get draaan inti this?....!!!!!!] One day,he related the story of a mate of his who came doon thi stairs from the club concert room,at Blyth,[Thi big club,which Blyth cooncil allowed ti be knocked doon ti mek a haaf-duzzen car park spaces.....for Morrison's....and AAM caalin Bedlington cooncil in an earlier post for the syem thing.....!] Anywheh!,he's marra came doon the forst few steps,threw a bone up ti thi ceiling,and it stuck,then slowly started ti hang,like a proppa bone...just waiting for sum poor unsuspecting bugga ti cum doon thi staors and be baptised again! Noo,as a responsible,sensible,supposedly respectable citizen,of average intelligence,this doesn't seem at all funny.................BUT IT SURE WAS HILARIOUS THI WAY POOR GEORDIE RELATED THE STORY TI US AT THE TIME![We were only aboot 18 yrs aad then..young and daft!]

Symptoms,gaanin' off ya brilliant crack,a wud be careful in case yi get ......hemmed.......in....by legalities........ahem.....hemmed in......!...[poor joke!!... ...just fishin'..!!] Tek nae notice o' me ramblin' on,a write like a taak!! More stories please!...it's bed-time again!

Er....Symptoms,I seem to have got you a bit confused by my bad phrasing....it wasn't the school hall being demolished ,I was refferring to a council who,in earlier years,didn't have the foresight to apply for listed building status,for "The Old Hall and Keep",where the bedlington council offices now stand. What did they do back then?.......demolished a centuries old building,a major part of Bedlington's history and heritage,and which should have been turned into a visitor's attraction.

Sad to hear that both Hancock,and Woodhorn, have been dumbed down,also the Science museum,THAT was the place to go with your kids on a rainy day before PS2 was invented! It was a proper scientific place,and i can remember the long plumb bob hanging from the dome,which demonstrated the rotation of the earth over the time the bob was swinging back and forth in an elliptical trajectory...can anybody else mind of this experiment?

Many thanks for your kind comments and support,folks,a hevn't been ti hancocks for years,last time a was there was ti tek an exibit which a found in a strange place!.....naa,aav been since then,wi another exibit from a different strange place!! The first exibit story... Place? Bedlington A pit...High Main Seam...time: approx. 9-0pm one night in night shift,starting at 5-0pm....date: mid 1960's. We were sitting having our baits,my marra's and me,and as i finished my bait,i rested my arms over bent knees,and put my head down on my arms,closing my tired eyes for a few minutes.[not sleeping..against the law..sackable offence...just resting tired eyes.] I felt an irritating urge to scratch at my leg over my pit pants.... This happened a few times,and cursing to myself,i looked to see what was making me itch......... The biggest black cockroach you ever saw was crawling up my leg! I said to the old-timer sitting next to me to look here....he nearly jumped out of his skin,and thumped my leg,trying to kill it. I cursed at him,as miners did in them days,and picked the roach up,and put him in my pocket-watch tin,[smiths pocket watch was standard pit watch in those days] My intention was to take it to the Hancock Museum,cos you didn't get cockroaches doon the pit,mice...yes...but not roaches. Well,i totally forgot about him and it was three days later that I actually went to the Hancock. The curator took one look,and said it was a middle-eastern species,as the "feathers" [stunted wings]on his rear-end were shorter than our native species. He asked where I found it,and when I told him it was about three miles inbye in a high coal seam,dusty dry,he wasn't surprised,and explained as the roach was most likely transported,in lava form,in the pit props,that came from abroad,usually from Norway and Scandinavia,but from other places in times of problems with shipping,rough seas etc. It probably hatched from lava stage in the warmth of the district where I was working,cos mind,it WAS warm![unlike the Three-Quarter seam at Bates Pit!] So I asked how was it still alive,after being kept in a small airtight tin,in my pit clothes pocket,for three days? He told me that if I had left it in the tin for a fortnight,it would still have survived ,such was the resilience of these creatures,which survived the ice-age! He said he would mount it and put it on display,with the story of where it was found,and he did just that,cos I checked it out a week or two later. A year or two later,same thing exactly,co-incidentally,bait-time,but now it was in the Beaumont seam at Bates pit,around 1971-ish. In the Tail-gate,[return airway...and very humid and warm],the timber laddies had just brought a set of trams and tubs,with timber and other supplies for the coalface. They no sooner cast the set [unloaded] when the lads off the coalface,and me,were being dive-bombed by huge flying insects. When one lad killed one,we saw it was a giant wood-wasp,but I knew that this wasn't a native tree wasp,by it's sheer size! I told the lads to "scone" their lights,[switch off],and wait till the insects landed,as they navigate using light rays to guide their flight path. They did this,waiting five minutes till the buzzing stopped,and switched back on their headlamps. This time they were ready for the onslaught,with swatters in hand,and as the bees lifted they were all killed,which me,being a nature boy,was very sad about,but couldn't do much about it. The rest of the story is a carbon copy of the first one.....Hancocks...related story to Curator....got mounted,nice letters on both exibits,from the tech team at the museum,explaining all about them,their origin,etc. The bee was a far-eastern species,again in timber in lava stage,and twice the size of our native tree wasp...very intimidating to be attacked by a dozen of these little beasties,but fascinating to find out how they drill a hole an inch deep,into hard wood,lay their eggs,and fill the hole with beeswax! Last part was at Ashington pit,in 1986,My Marra and Me were sent into a VERY old roadway,to see if we could recover a small hauler winch. Problem?.....NO rails laid,and NOmeans of transporting anything in or out of this mile-long road. Nobody had set foot in this old roadway for years,we were told,and as soon as we entered into it....we knew this to true! Again,it was a return airway,VERY,VERY,hot,and humid. Every girder in the roadway had huge balls of fungus,of all colours,hanging...ghostily from them,gently moving in the very slight air movement. We had only walked inbye a few yards,when every step we took,something dropped from the roof above our heads,hitting our helmets with a light thud. Naturally thinking it was small bits of stone,which was usual,we looked up together,and were stunned by the sight that greeted us both! HUGE,and mind,I mean HUUUGGGE......red centipedes,five times bigger than the garden ones,were crawling all over the whole of the roadway,up the girders ,across the roof area and all over the floor.....just like hoards of ants do....obviously disturbed by our caplamps. These creatures had been living and breeding in this black hole for years without interference from man. It was a hell of a task just getting inbye to where we wanted to be!They occupied the whole of that road,throughout its length! We knew that the rest of the pit was infested by millions of woodlice,another unusual creature underground,and they were in droves,under every bit uf stone or timber you shifted!...in every district,but these centipedes took the biscuit! Mind,they were gorgeous to see,great big wide bodies,huge legs,and massive antennae,but it never struck me to bring one out for the museum... maybe cos thatcher the hatcheter was at the forefront of all the miner's minds,after the strike,and we knew this pit was next...and it was...a few months later. Sorry to go on a bit....again!!

Aye, Symptoms,thanks for your advice,a wudn't mind seeing yours,gaan off wat you've telt us!!!

Maggie,it's a gud job we aal see things wor way,it wud be a queer world if we aal thought the same!!

Heh heh! Vic,i was sat in church behind you on your big day,Doreen was lovely,tell her from me!! Mind, a cud nivvor remember what year it was,me being a glaaky aad sod!! Happy new year to you all over there! Hope your weather gets a bit better soon. Oh,and yor lass was reet!

Hmm.....Merlin....21 aug 2010,.......Me,....14th Nov. 2013,.....methinks interest on History Hollow is waning faster than the moon...... Seems to be that no-one is interested in our mining heritage,Merlin!

St Cuthberts church was originally built in the year 611 AD by the Monks who carried his body to that resting place.It would have been a wooden structure then. The Saxons came and built the stone church,which was later destroyed and rebuilt by the Normans. The original Saxon Chancel arch still stands as strong as the day it was built! A stone plaque inset on the north wall reads "Watson's wake". The story goes that the caretaker ,Mr Watson, was a known sleep-walker,and one night he was awakened by a passer-by,as he was climbing the face of the building, and ultimately fell to his death. I was told this story when I was about seven years old,by my class teacher,who was taking the whole class around the church,she told us about the origins of the church,the Saxons,Normans,and the gothic east wing,etc. The vicar was Mr Osgathorpe,and he always terrified the lives out of us kids,as I remember....he wasn't a particularly nice-natured person towards kids,and the fat cigar he always chewed when he was outside his duties,plus his massive Humber hawk car,didn't endear him to many of the old-time hard-up low-paid miner's that I knew,as I went through the growing-up stages in life.[none of whom could barely afford a push-bike..let alone a massive car like a Humber Hawk![in 1950's] The only other person that I knew,in those horse-and -cart-days,who ran a Humber Hawk car,was the local business man called Cyril Nealan,and he used to come around Hollymount Square,once a week,to sell his clothing wares,and collect his "ticky-money". The point is,it was often the talking point,whenever the Vicar was visiting anyone,why did he have to have such a big expensive car,when no-one except business folk had cars at all,and why not run a smaller car anyway..... In a mining community,where lots of families didn't have an inside toilet,or hot running water,it must have been seen as an un-necessary luxury,nay,a lavish breach of the use of church funds,in the eyes of the hard-working miner! ...and they named the gates after him...!

Symtoms,I would love to se that file if it still exists in the archives,just to see how much the reports were twisted in favour of the police for their inadequacies! How would I find out?

I have a thin booklet called.."The pit village and the store",given to me by a very good old neighbour who is now deceased [R.I.P.] It might be available in the library..it's interesting!

Didn't realise I have repeated my stories from the previous page,it's a while since I have been on! I said previously that I saw Mr Marley at a funeral,in St Cuthbert's church,but remembered now that it was a concert we were at.

Norman,just to try and establish who you are,discreetly,was Dave Lees your mate in the upper remove,who they named the Lees trophy after?[and you wouldn't have a ginger-haired Son called David?....an old workmate of mine....] I was in the Upper Remove class,[a daft name i always thought!],and I remember Mr Marley very well indeed! Short and stocky,close curly hair,and didn't need to raise his voice to command attention. We put the Shakespeare "Julius Caesar" play on,and He directed it. It was a great success,to the parents and general public who attended the evening production. I last saw him in St Cuthbert's church,a few years ago,as we were coming up the aisle,at the end of a concert,he was in front of me,and I knew him straight away by his voice,before even seeing him face-on!![This is about 50 years after leaving school!!] I spoke to him,and he was very nice in his manner,and I thanked him belatedly,for making a man out me...as you do.... I would love to see the photo of the class of 1957. Malcolm Straker I knew very well,as an ex-nephew in-law,but haven't seen for years. Ian Cambell,should be on that class photo,if it is the same lad, who was cricket mad,and good at it,even in 1957!! If anyone knew of the bartender-doorkeeper at the cricket club,over the last twenty years at least,they would know how i came to have my present avatar!!! Wilma was given to me by Keith Cooney[deceased..R.I.P.],who was that same guy![we were only 15 years old young miners in 1959 at the time!!] The Manager's clerk at Choppington high pit was called Jimmy Marley. Noo,thinking back,a always thought my form teacher in the upper remove was called Bill,but you say it was George.... Please post the pic! Did Malcolm Humble originally live at Hollymount Square as a young child...?...if so,i know him very well,but not seen him for a year or two either...real nice family,the Humbles. If any of the commitee members are on this forum,then I extend my long lost greetings to those of you that I knew,but haven't seen for years,that you might not know me now...all except Malcolm Straker...who SHOULD remember me!! Cheers,!! Bill.

When I started down Choppington high pit,the lad who was in charge of me for my twenty days "close personal supervision",[which was the law],used ti drive for Dixon Jordan,part-time,and he picked me up at my door once or twice to go with him for a bit of company,usually when he was taking local schoolkids to Gateshead swimming baths,[the kids were under -14's so I was more of an adult.....at 16-17yrs old!! I remember the coaches being really well kept,cleaned before every outing,and living up to the name of being "luxury"coaches. We as kids,used to laugh when we saw the Bedlington & District Luxury coaches,picking the miners up to take them to the various pits in the area.. Because pithead baths hadn't arrived,the miners travelled both on private[laid on],and public[united buses],with their dirty clothes on,after the end of their shift,and this must have created havoc with the coach upholstery! We used to compare the Bed. and Distr. "luxury" coaches with Jordan's coaches,every time one passed us!! They were generally mucky,and,it seemed to us,badly looked after.[the B. and D.ones.. that is.....!]

Heh heh!!Ilove an honest guy!Nice one Adam!

I was just telling my next door neighbour yesterday,[a retired woodwork teacher..],about how we,as ten year old kids,used to go down Bedlington bank,next to the river Blyth bridge,and watch all the floodlit action,as the joiner's sawed through twenty or thirty foot long Greenheart beams,to make the wooden trestles,with a long four-handled saw...and i mean about seven or eight foot long!! There were two men at each side of the beam,each man holding his respective handle on the saw,and it took ages,probably more than an hour,or even two hours,to saw through one beam. The beams were about two-feet square,and so dense,that the off-cuts just sank in the river ,they didn't float!! There were no power saws capable of handling that capacity of timber,out by the riverside. I can vividly remember the laying of the concrete foundations,on each river bank side,which,if i remember rightly,are still there. Watching the beams being put together to form the huge trestles for the bridge,was fascinating,especially as all the activity we witnessed was under powerful floodlighting,with big generators running,through the night to carry out the work 24 hours a day.[after school was when we would go down]. The first time we saw euclids going over the bridge,making the centre section bounce up and down like a yo-yo,was amazing,until we watched the 42 -ton coal-haulers go over.......it was frightening to watch at first,cos we thought for sure that the bridge would collapse under the load....it bounced so much!! Now,with the benefit of the dvd which six townships has produced,there is evidence that,60 years on....there is proof that my old grey matter isn't letting me down!! There is a scene of a few seconds ,showing the coal-haulers going over the bridge,and yes.....the bridge DID bounce like a yo-yo.....a credit to the engineers who designed the Bailey bridge!! It was a blast from the past to see the construction of a Bailey bridge in Rothbury,last year,while repairs were carried out to the old stone bridge,and it all came back to me..........1954....meccano type sections,clevis-pins,washers,split-pins,cross-beams,wood decking.....simple but very effective!!

Can anyone remember Miss Maize? She was lovely,and Mr Dodds thought so too! They were courting,when i was only about ten years old,and when they did playground duty,they walked around the yard,holding hands. Us laddies used to gang up,a whole mass of us,and follow them around,singing......"Maizy dotes on quaker oats and semolina pudding....." I have vivid memories of Miss Maize turning around,with the lovely smile she had,and just laughing at us all,no reprimanding,she took it in good fun all the time.[Mind,a canna say the same for Doddsy....he was a bit on the serious side....but a canny teacher,even though he was strict...a canna mind him giving me the strap or owt...]

This tale reminds me of another antique find! We used to play in the graveyard behind St Cuthbert's church,at Bedlington Market place. The infant's school field was next to the graveyard,down Church Lane,where Towers estate is now. One day,we were all in the field,playing games,[only about ten years old],when my older Brother and me came across an old gun lying in the long grass beside the wooden fence. The gun had a massively long barrel,and had two "legs" underneath it,to support it. We played with that gun for what seems like donkey's ages,always replacing it where we found it. One day,we were down church lane,going on the road to Humford ,when the two "Broonies" twins walked past us,carrying this massive gun between them! They lived at Millfield,and we presumed they were taking the gun home,well to us it was as if they were stealing it....[but from who?] Later on,we were told by somebody that it was an old goose-gun,but mind,it was a rusty old thing,only worthy of a kid's plaything.....so we thought at that time!!! I often wonder what happened to it,and if the twinnies can remember it also! Maybe it was worth a small fortune as an antique!

My Wife was friendly with Bill and his Wife ,Veda,in the '60's,when she was just a bit lassie,and we were courting. Any relation?

Symptoms,I remember Mr Johnson,science teacher,[my electronics mentor in the evenings,like a friend,but strict teacher by day!], showing the class a jar of Phosphorous lumps,in liquid,[oil?],which stopped them from spontaneous combusting. He had a pair of long tongs,lifted a lump out of the jar,about three feet away from all of us crowding around to watch,and within ten seconds,the Phosphorous began sparking and fizzling,as it started to catch fire...to which he quickly plunged it back into the jar of liquid,which extinguished it. One school open day,he arranged us onto pairs,and each pair of pupils had to demonstrate an experiment,to the visitors. Me and Martin,my friend,had to demonstrate how water is composed of Hydrogen and Oxygen. The experiment showed how we mixed the correct proportion of Oxygen,and Hydrogen,in a gas jar,then putting a lighted taper into the inverted jar,causing a controlled explosion,which left deposits of moisture on the inside walls of the jar. The small explosion was enough to frighten the lives out of the unexpecting visitors!! 'Elf n safety would have had Mr Johnson jailed nooadays! We used to play with Mercury,when Mr Johnson wasn't looking!!....PLAY with it in the palm of our hands,then drop it onto the hard floor,watching loads of little Mercury marbles rolling around!![bloody poison!...and very expensive...but we didn't know!] Tame stuff compared to our good marra,Mr Symptoms though!

Noo,ti continue on about me traumatic event,which I started a few days ago..........regarding a letter which I had found,in the cloakroom.... Thi next morning aad nicky,thi headmaster,came to my class,which Matty Hall was taking,and told me to come to his office.....to which I started shaking with fear,not knowing what I had done wrong. When I followed him into his office,I nearly passed out with fear,there were two men in "Macs"..[caped raincoats],and trilby hats on,sitting behind his desk.[smoking as well..] Well I knew from the top-end pictures,on saturday matinees,that these two men looked like detectives..[straight from "the third man" movie] They systematically cross-examined me about the pound note,which was missing,and blatantly ,to my face,asked me what had I done with the money... Had i bought sweets?...had I shared it with my friends?...had I hidden it under my rabbit hutch?....it went on and on,asking me to recount my story over and over,from going to the toilet,and going home with this letter in my pants pocket.. They made me stand outside,in the cold corridor,[it was in the middle of winter]to think over carefully,and then took me back into the office,again to recount my story. They kept saying,"Come on William,you are lying,now tell us the truth..." I was nearly in tears,after about two hours,then they sent me back to my class. When I got home,I told my Mother i had been questioned by two detectives,and she hit the roof! She grabbed me by the neck,shoved my coat and boots on,[we used to wear tackety boots,like small pit boots..with metal studs along the heel and soles..],and she dragged me faster than I could walk,up to Bedlington Police station. Well,she knew Jimmy Mann,the constable,[everybody knew Jimmy,!],and she started tearing strips off him,wanting to know who had questioned her Son without her permission,and called him a liar... Jimmy tried to calm her down,then the two detectives,came out into the street,at the station doors,and asked my Mother to bring me in for further questioning. After about two hours,typical movie scene,low lamp over table,smoke-filled room,one of them said"the boy's definitely lying.." THAT was a red rag to a bull!! I vividly remember my Mother jumping up from her chair and grabbing the detective by the throat..shouting in a blind rage...and crying...."Aal throttle ye,ye bugga,if yi accuse my kid o' being a liar and a thief...!!" Make no mistake,here,this has lived with me all my life.... The detective musn't have expected it,cos he fell back,wi me Mother still gripping his throat,and me standing crying,and terrified with all the shouting... Jimmy Mann got hold of my Mother and sat her down,calming her,and said "Jean,tek ya laddie doon yem,and calm yasell doon...." We went doon home,and aa was just a lump of jelly,shaking like hell. The next afternoon,when I got in from school,it was a repeat,straight up to the station again! Another two hours examination,and sent home,this time in a quieter fashion,maybe Jimmy Mann told them My Mother acted out of passion,and totally out of character,in defence of her son. The lad who had lost the letter,bullied me in the playground,telling everybody that I was a thief,he was about four years older than me,nearly ready to leave school,same age as my oldest sister,and She got hold of him telling him to leave me alone. The situation just seemed to get more nightmarish,as each day passed. Then it went quiet,and I never heard another thing about it. A few weeks later,my Mother found out that the real thief had been found,and we never got an apology from aad nicky,or the Police, it was like it had never happened.... Nowadays,folks in that situation,would be suing them all for wrongful arrest etc....... I was just left completely traumatised by the whole affair,so much,that every time I saw a policeman,which was every day,in those days, i just started feeling sick,and would shake uncontrollably..... I was about 18 years old before I overcame that fear of the Police. In 1971,I related this story,word for word,to another pit Deputy,while getting our bait,underground,and he called me a liar,and said there was no way the Police would spend that amount of time on a case,for a measly pound.....[a pound was a lot of money in 1955,but he just wasn't going to listen.............then he showed me his "card I.D."......Special Constabulary....] I found out that he was one of the nastiest men in the pit...as time went by...it figured why he didn't want to listen to me.... He didn't half bring my hackles up,calling me a liar.....after what I had went through as an 11 year old child.. End of story....only real bad memory of the old Whitley,cos apart from that,and aad nicky I liked the school. Thanks to all who might spend the time reading my story!!