Anne from Hartford

I remember a girl named Ann or Anne McLellan from Bedlington who was in my class at the camp school. She used to take the bus home every day. Dorothy Davidson who lived at the farm across the road from Hartford Hall was another attendee from outside the Camp. As a child this always puzzled me. It certainly is curious, isn't it?

Many thanks, Malcolm, for the Journal link. I phoned the number posted in the article and left my contact details with great hopes that I'll hear from the author of the book. It appears that the author and I lived at Hartford Camp at about the same time although his name isn't familiar. I lived at Camp 1 (Camps 1 & 2 were at one side of the road and Camp 3 and the school were at the other) and I'm betting he lived at Camp 3. This is so exciting for me!

I used to love hard-boiled egg mashed up with tomato between two slices of well-buttered bread. My mom used to call it mock crab. There was another sandwich I loved that had sliced tinned corned beef covered with sliced pickled onions. I still make them today. None of my Canadian friends has ever heard of anything like those. They think of pickled onions being those tiny white cocktail onions instead of the 'real' English ones.

My mother had a pair of shoes like the ones the lady on the far left is wearing. Hers were grey leather and she loved them. Mom died in 2001 and had kept those shoes all those years after we emigrated in 1957. In fact, because they meant so much to her I still have them. Who'd have guessed!

I don't recognize anybody and I'm not sure about the building either. It might have been where the Salvation Army held services once in a while. If so, it would have been near what we called the Black Garage, a large building in the shape of a half cylinder and covered with what I assume was a pitch-like substance. We never saw anyone enter or leave that particular building. We used to believe they had kept a plane in there during the war. We had vivid imaginations!

There's a picture somewhere of a single, derelict brick structure which is apparently all that remains of Hartford Camp. I'm fairly certain that's where we lived and there should have been a portion at one side that must have been torn down. There were three families in the front part and one at the side, the Charltons. They had one child at the time. His name was Alan. I happened upon a post at one time by 'alanc' stating he lived at 54 Netherton Moor but I can't seem to find it again. Can anyone help, please?

Orloff, which camp did you live in? I was in Camp 1 near the piggery with the stream and the woods in front of us.

No, Maggie, your memory is not playing tricks. We used to call it the 'Woods Shop' and it was only open for a few hours a day and only on certain days when I lived at Hartford. It was a small place made of huge blocks and seemed to be built into the side of a wall near the bridge. We used to buy pop (a very limited variety at the time) and crisps. I'm surprised anyone would remember it.

I went to the school just down from Camp #3 which was across the road from Camps 1 and 2. The headmistress was Miss McKay who lived in Bedlington. We had a cook called Mrs. Bowl whose scorn I earned after remarking how well her name matched her job. There was a Mrs. Brown whose spelling lessons are etched in my brain and a Mrs. Reid whom I adored. Would that be the school you mentioned?

Hello to everyone. I'm Anne who lived at 52 Netherton Moor, Hartford Camp #1 until October of 1957 when my family emigrated to Canada. It's locked in my memory as it existed then. It was a magical place to be a child. My mother used to take us to Beadnell's in Bedlington and hand over her ration book and stamps while we waited for everything to be brought forward. I loved taking the bus from Hartford Hall to Bedlington and back again all by myself. I used to go into the greengrocer's shop and buy a green apple and a piece of licorice root then cross the street and look at the shoes in the shoe shop. It was such an adventure. How trusting we all were then and how times have changed. I keep coming back to this site periodically and decided to join you since the pull of memories won't let go. We can't know what the future holds in store and there's such joy in remembering the past.