Live stream

We apologise for the poor quality of sound during this morning's live streamed service, please bear with us as we find out what works and what does not.

Scaling the rocks we face in life

This is a photograph of my Grandson on holiday in Italy, he was six years old at the time and I was amazed, both at his courage and his determination not to be defeated.  As I look at this photograph, I realise that his confidence came from the fact that he knew that his Father was right there with him.

The photograph below shows Robert starting a climb with his Father belaying for him.  Belaying is described as the cornerstone of climbing safety; it involves holding the climbing rope so that the climber is safe if they fall off the rock, it prevents them from hitting the ground.  

In life, we can find ourselves in some rocky places; we can find ourselves on an uphill climb; we can face problems that seem insurmountable.  It's at times like this that we have to take courage from the fact that our heavenly Father is right there with us, encouraging us to keep going and ready to catch if we fall.  It's as if He has an unseen belay rope, that may not prevent our foot from slipping, but will prevent a mighty fall.

Robert had confidence in his Father's care for him, let us show the same confidence in our heavenly Father's care for us when we are in rocky places.

Live streaming

Rev'd Lyn is starting to live stream, on YouTube, the Services of Holy Communion for those who are unable to attend, these take place at 10am on Wednesdays and 9:30 on Sundays.  At the top of this page there is a web link tab saying "YouTube", clicking on this will take you to Rev'd Lyn's YouTube Channel.  Below is a small portion of that page.

On a smart phone in order to see the tab scroll to the bottom of the page and select "view web version"

At the top right you will see "Subscribed" and a tinkling bell.  These show that I have selected to subscribe to the channel and have notifications of clips being posted.  If you would like to be informed of a new video you can select these for yourself.  This is not essential as you can click on the tab and watch the clips at the time of the services or at your leisure.

David Green

Monkey Business

Monkey Business

Last Thursday, a friend and I met up with my sister-in-law Judith, at Trentham Gardens. It was the first time I had seen her since before Christmas. Judith lives in Stroud In Gloucestershire, so Trentham was an ideal place to meet.

We visited the monkey forest which is part of the Trentham Estate. The forest is home to 180 Barbary Macaque monkeys which are an endangered species. There are less than 8000 left in their mountainous habitats in Morocco and Algeria. They live in the forest just as they would in their natural habitat. Of course, there were strict instructions about what we could and could not do and what we should do if a monkey came very close. We couldn’t eat or drink, shout or run and had to stand very still if one decided to cross our path. They often did this. It was surprisingly quiet in the forest despite the numerous children who had obviously listened to what they had been told.

I have never seen monkeys up close, only ever seeing them in a zoo. There was a woodland trail around the forest which allowed us to observe the monkeys at very close range. The monkeys were quite unconcerned about us being there and would walk across the path in front of us. There wasn’t much swinging from trees but a lot of lounging on the grass. There was the occasional fracas when the monkeys would screech and shout at each other, running up to the canopy of the trees. Quite often the fracas was caused by male monkeys trying to assert their parental rights (more about that next week). It was fascinating watching their antics and how they socialised with one another especially when they were grooming each other. This was a sign of friendship.

To be continued next week…….

Thank you, God, for all creatures, both great and small.

Non-Eucharistic worship 7th Sunday after Trinity

Hymn: O Lord my God (How great Thou art)

Rev'd Lyn's Sermon

Kathreen's Prayers of Intercession: Here

Hymn: All my hope on God is founded

Memories of a Verger

Having read the 3 part story by Kath Sellars, this note came from Carole Owen:

"My David will be thrilled to read this.  He was very fond of Bob.  He first met him as a pupil at St. Johns School in the 1940's.   

One story he has just told me is that Bob tried to drill holes in the bottom of the large candles for church (to save money, of course) but they broke so David got the job.  He was worried in case he also broke them.  Thankfully he did not.  A lot of the work was done at Owen Brothers across from church in the Old Schoolhouse building.

David was born on Turner Street but I am a Chadderton girl and that is where we lived when we got married.

We have only returned to the area to live in the last five years, but, of course, was in touch with Bob working across from St. Johns.

Carole"

Sun, sea and sand.

Didn't we have a lovely time the day we went to Fleetwood!

Sun, sea and sand, in my dreams. That was my wish for Saturday's weather. There was sea, there was sand, but there was definitely no sun. For the first time since lockdown two of my grandchildren stayed with me for the weekend. I decided that whatever the weather we were going to the seaside. When we left it was raining, it rained the whole journey and when we arrived in Fleetwood, it was still raining. As Peter Kay has joked " it was the kind of rain that wets you through, you know the fine stuff".

The sea front was almost deserted, but there were a few hardy souls walking their dogs. The sea was quite wild with plenty of white horses. My grandchildren enjoyed the zip wire even though they looked like drowned rats afterwards.  Fortunately the beach log cabin was opened and although we couldn't go inside, we got a very welcome cup of tea.
We decided to go in search of fish and chips because you can't possibly go to the seaside without doing this. We set off again and journeyed down the coast to Blackpool where there were crowds galore. Not what we were expecting at all. So, we drove on to Lytham which wasn't as crowded. We went in searh of fish and chips but was disappointed. However, there were several cafes open and  we did have scrumptious meal. By this time it had stopped raining and we wandered to the seafront. With great joy we spotted an ice cream van and we all enjoyed a cone with a flake and raspberry and chocolate sauce. A good day was had by all.

Thank you, God, for the joy of children who whatever the weather put a smile on our face.


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Non Eucharistic worship 6th Sunday after Trinity

Hymn: Fight the good fight

Rev's Christine's intercessions here

Hymn: Lord of all hopefulness

Flowers

Add caption

At the beginning of lockdown, which seems like such a long time ago, I decided to make sure that were signs of hope around the house. I did this through having flowers in the house. Every week I’d place new blooms on the dining table where my children study, on my desk in my study, and in the lounge. It might seem like a strange thing to do but through the week I’d watch the flowers open up and show their beautiful colours, and smell their fresh fragrance. 

As the weeks trudged by I clung onto the day that I would take my weekly trip to the shops and pick out a different bunch. There is something calming and stilling looking at flowers. Each petal is unique, each stalk a different shape, each leaf a different shade of green. 

Once I spent a day watching a bulbous peony open up. Hour by hour the petals shifted and opened slightly in the spotlight of the sun. My children and I huddled around this flower just waiting for it to open. And by the end of the afternoon it popped open, petals opening like the final bow of a stage performer. 

Flowers are a sign of hope. In bud they seem unknown and silent yet inside much is going on. Once I had a bunch of lilies that seemed like they would not open at all. Two weeks passed by and they remained fully closed. Then as I was just about to replace them they opened up in their perfumed glory, how happy I felt seeing what felt like a small miracle.

Eventually all of my flowers were ready for the garden waste, and as I said goodbye I remembered this passage from Isaiah 40:8 “The grass withers, the flower fades: but the word of our God will stand forever.” 

This is the hope that we can cling onto, that the word of God, Jesus Christ never fades or withers. Jesus is the same yesterday, and today, and forever. He holds onto us tightly as we bloom and flourish. And like my lilies sometimes it takes longer for us to open up, but Jesus loves us with a patient love who keeps calling us back to him over and over again.

Lockdown and the virus will have changed us all in some way, for some in unimaginable ways. For myself I saw my theological college life end, my placement in my previous church finish, and then ordination was postponed. All of it was like turning off a light switch, one minute it was on and then it was off. I’m sure many of you will have reflections of lockdown like this, and some still carrying the pain of losses that cannot be replaced.

Jesus comes to us with a sweet fragrance of hope bursting through into whatever situation we are in now. I pray that over these coming weeks we can find hope and a little bit of joy in the gift of the flowers we see in the world around us, the signs of hope even in the long grass.

Things children say.

The day finally arrived. Yesterday my grandaughter, Brooklynne and I had the birthday shopping trip that we had been planning since her birthday at the beginning of June. We arrived at the White Rose shopping centre near Leeds as the shops were beginning to open for the day. This worked well as we hardly had to queue to go into any of the shops and social distancing wasn't a problem.
Although my Brooklynne is 12 years old, she is still immensely fond of cuddlies. Even though she could set up shop herself with all the cuddlies she has, she wanted to add to her collection. Not such an easy decision when there are so many to choose from.  It was a little like the advert on the TV where the little girl repeatedly says  to herself daddy or chips, daddy or chips,  as she is on her way home. Only it was squishmallow or stitch. For the uninitiated squishmallow is a supersoft cuddly  (see below) and stitch is a character from a Disney film
In Brooklynne's words,"they were  both sick !!!!!" Apparently, that means very good

This got me thinking about some of the other things my children and grandchildren have said;
My eldest daughter Rachael, when she was little, once asked me for a Clump from the buggared. What she actually wanted was a plum from the cupboard.
Rachael, again when she was little would sing head, shoulders cheese-on-toast! Of course, it should have been head, shoulders, knees and toes. May have had something to do her love of cheese.
Archie can recognise a heart-shaped shape and knows his hearbeat goes Lub Dub. He dropped the heart-shaped shape that he had in his hand and very loudly said, Oh no, I have dropped my heartbeat.
Archie's daddy is now back working in his office and Archie told me " Daddy go work, daddy play golf. If only, was daddies reply. My grandchildren brighten my day and make smile. I hope your grandchildren brighten your day and make you smile.
Jesus said many things but one of His famous sayings is  "Let the little children come to me"  Matthew 19:14)  God bless children everywhere.

Non-Eucharistic worship 5th Sunday after Trinity

Hymn: Lord Thy word abideth

Rev'd Lyn's Sermon

 Hymn: God is working His purpose out

Memories of a verger part 3

A Verger’s memories of St. John the Baptist Part 3

Bob then spoke about his family and his early life

My mother was one of ten, I was born there and spent a vast amount of time with Grandparents.  I had good parents mind you, but I always seemed to be drawn to them somehow or another.  And she was born in 1849, both of them, a very devout woman was the old lady.  She wore a bonnet and cape, and there was always grace before meals.  Bob talked about her handwriting – she used to write with two fingers on the pen, the old man he could read but could not write and had to sign with the cross.

He was a carter, two horses at sixteen years old, they used to travel from Oldham to Manchester in those days with goods, and he was also born in 1849.  My grandmother lost her husband very quick, he was a foundry worker, five foot nothing, but had full command of the lot of them.

The store, Dixons was at one corner of Church Street and the co-op at the other, and she used to shop at lot but the house was at Newbank, top of the school gates, she used to come up with both hands full, and a dozen of flour on her head, and she used to go through the institute ground and through the playground of the school.  The school master used to say take those off your grandmother and get home, but back right away.  Aye, flour on her head and she was five foot nothing, but it was hard going.

When asked about his brother and sisters

They all survived, but Edith died before her twenties, but the rest, Aunt Alice retired to Fleetwood and then they are buried in St. Annes, oh, she couldn’t do with cremation.  Get away, I said, it’s only proper way now. 

You could do anything in those days, have a few pigeons or rabbits in your back yard there, but today they want it in triplicate and it wouldn’t be allowed anyway, no matter who signed it. 

There used to be a short distance union, not homing pigeons, they used to throw them up on Highmoor, Brighton Road there, and with a tail wind a good pigeon could do it in one minute.   The stop watches were synchronised and then UP -You had to throw up the birds at the synchronised time.  There used to be different lofts and pubs in particular.  It was big money, the Christmas Sweep was £5.00!  The old stopwatches were synchronised. (There followed a little conversation about homing pigeons and the Devonshire Pub in Lees which lead Bob on to another recollection) 

There was an old war veteran of the 1914-18 war who lived in Den Lane there and he used to walk from Hey to the Pots and Pans Memorial Service every Armistice Day and I hardly ever saw that chap (John Swan) without something in his lapel almost throughout the year even if it was only a spring flower.  His last journey was from the Devonshire pub, they thought that much of him, the lads.

Bob spoke about Dr. Grundy being buried in the old graveyard, by the dividing wall between the old part and the new part, and if you go down towards the middle of the old part there’s a gap that lets you into the new part, and he’s buried there under the black flag.  It mentions his maidservant on the gravestone, she came from down south somewhere.  His wife is there was well.  There’s an interesting photograph in the vestry – he’s there with his dog!  After he had done fifty years the window near the Stamford Road gates was installed and the bosses are carved out GDG and the date, and then of course he went on thirty years after that and the floor tablet was put down.  My grandfather used to say he had an umbrella as big as a bell tent! 

Bob asked Margaret Shelmerdine if she remembered Old Vic the Red Setter, he used to stand in front of the Ice Cream Van and he wouldn’t budge until he had had his cornet.  Bob said Margaret’s Dad showed him one day – just watch this he said, he pulled his pipe out of his mouth and put it in Vic’s mouth and there was Vic the dog walking about with the pipe.  He was a grand ‘un, he would stop the Ice Cream Van and he wouldn’t stir until he got his cornet. 

Bob spoke about the Football team, the Cricket team and the Hockey team.  You had to make your own amusement in those days he said.  There used to be a billiard league, one place we used to go to was a little cottage with the upstairs broken through and it housed a three-quarters table and if the ball got under what they called the dip, you were up against the wall and you had to use the poker to play with instead of a cue.  On one occasion when we went and we had to open the door to get a particular shot in – aye all sorts went on.

There then followed a lot of general conversation after which the tape ran out.  Listening to it again was a real joy, you could imagine Bob was in the room with you.  He was interesting and amusing and, above all, a real gentleman.  I hope you have all enjoyed reading about Bob’s reminiscences as much as I enjoyed transcribing them.

Kath Sellars

Doors 2

I spoke last Wednesday about doors, I intend to continue with my musings on different aspects of doors, and what they might mean to us.  I cannot produce a video today because, after often wondering how anyone can manage to drop their mobile phone down the toilet – today I found out!  (So if you’re trying to contact me, I haven’t turned my phone off, it died from drowning.)

Back to doors:

Doors open and close.  When open, they provide passageways from A to B.  If you’re on the outside, an open door can convey a sense of welcome;an invitation to enter. If you’re on the inside, an open door can convey a sense of release, freedom or adventure.  When closed, doors offer protection and privacy, but they can also make you feel imprisoned.  There is a potential power to doors.  We can use them as barriers, they can give us a sense of control as we shut people or things out.   But we can feel like the powerless one, the one who is excluded, rejected, shut out.  If any one of these strikes a chord with you, perhaps that is something to talk to God about.  If a long forgotten memory surfaces, even if it is painful or shaming, talk to God, He will help you to get a different perspective on you memory, He will bring comfort, healing or forgiveness, calming whatever emotion arises.  Maybe your memory is a happy one - give thanks to God as He causes you to recall it.

Last week we thought about a hidden door.  Over the next week or two, we’ll be thinking on Wednesdays about the key that locks or unlocks the door, we’ll be thinking about the hinges that may or may not need oiling.  We’ll consider walls pretending to be doors (any JK Rowling fans will detect a reference to Harry Potter there).  We’ll be thinking about listening for the knock, the different types of knock, and about our knocking on the door.  We’ll be thinking about opening doors and how doors lead to changes. 

My prayer is that at least one aspect of all this will lead you into a deep conversation with God about something that He reveals to you as you take time to become vulnerable in the presence of our loving, heavenly Father.

May God continue to bless us as we seek to deepen our relationship with Him and with each other.

Rai, Rain and more Rain.

Be Thankful for the rain.

I have to admit to feeling a little jealous this week. Louise and Lee, my daughter and son-in-law were speaking to Lee's mum who lives in Snodland in Kent. Yes, it is the name of a town, hard to believe but it is.  It was glorious sunshine whilst it was raining cats and dogs here. This week has certainly been very wet. Archie and I have had some very wet walks including one to the supermarket. Archie doesn't mind being wet and loves to splash and Jump in the puddles as I have said more than once on this blog. You can imagine his delight when we got out of the car and there was the most enormous puddle covering a car park next to the supermarket. He had a wonderful time running through the puddle and yet again he went home a very soggy little chap.

Later that day as I was joining in with evening prayer from the Cathedral, a prayer request appeared on the screen. It was to pray for rain in Lahore, which is Manchester's link diocese in Pakistan. The temperature was 43 degrees centigrade with not a drop of rain in sight. It sort of put things into perspective and that night I did remember to thank God for the rain. 

Non Eucharistic service 4th Sunday after Trinity

Hymn: The Strife is O'er

Rev'd Christine's Sermon is here

Prayer of Intercession here

Hymn: Just as I am

Updated notices

Notices

After a thorough risk assessment (8 pages long) I have decided to have a trial run of a Communion service this Sunday.  Unfortunately, this has to be by invitation only as I can only safely accommodate 30 people (sitting 2 metres apart).  At the suggestion of a church member, I am working through my contacts list alphabetically.  The service will be very different with a one way traffic system, face coverings not compulsory but recommended, no singing, no sharing of a sign of the peace, communion in one kind only and many other minor changes (including the lack of coffee afterwards).

This week there will not be a service on Wednesday morning as we have a funeral on Tuesday and I need to leave 72 hours before opening the church again. 

There will not be opportunity to open for the Thursday evening Come and Praise service as the numbers are far too great and we are waiting for a decision from schools about whether they will count church attendance between now and September or not.  It would seem totally unfair to count attendance between now and September as not everyone will have the opportunity to attend due to the seriously reduced capacity in all churches and several churches will not be able to open at all, at least for the first few weeks. 

I will attempt to keep everyone updated but those who receive information through the post (those with no access to the website) will find that before they receive a letter from me, the information has changed again.  The Bishops are advising us to check the website twice a day because the information changes so quickly.  I will try to keep people informed via the telephone but please bear in mind that it takes quite some time to do this, and far from having less work to do during lockdown, my workload has increased.  Nevertheless, I am doing all I can to open church as often as possible.

Please ring the vicarage if you would like to book an appointment to worship on future Sundays or Wednesdays.  I am so very sorry that an appointment system is necessary but if we are to open at all, we must do all that we can to ensure the safety of all by following government, NHS The Church of England and Diocesan guidelines.  

Best regards

Lyn

Memories of a verger part 2

The Day School was a massive effort, strongly built, and the parish hall now is built out of the Day School stone.  Mr. Jackson built the parish hall, and the Chapel bought the school, they couldn’t come to terms about the slates, so Mr. Jackson had to go to Mossley for his slates.  Underneath there was a cellar and underneath that there was a trap, and you could get underneath there and there  was stored the platform, built in sections, spars and flats and all that, and  Ben Fairhurst was the Headmaster at that time and anything going off that required the platform being put up meant you came up absolutely black.  He was a great Headmaster, buried in the little cemetery, as Dr. Grundy is buried in the old cemetery.  The old cemetery was started in 1828 and it was full up, and this new graves were a 1928 extension, that’s a little street just round by the old peoples bungalows, That was consecrated by Dr. Temple the then Bishop of Manchester and the gateposts are inscribed.

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The Delph Donkey used to run from Saddleworth through Grotton, the engine sheds were at Delph and they used to stoke them up at night ready for shunting, there was a lot of railway goods traffic in those days.   Delph Donkey on its last run was nearly pulled to pieces, every item that could be stripped… it wasn’t vandalism it was souvenirs, they grabbed the lot.

The Stamford mill was where that other little development is on your right hand side going down, you know where all the little units are now, facing the garage.  That was a mill, I don’t remember it working, then Acorn mill would have been a cotton mill, and the old peoples bungalows there was group of cottages stood back off the road, a bit of rough grass, and they were demolished and the old peoples bungalows built, and someone tried it on that the whole lot was going to be St. Johns Street, but somebody put a spoke in the wheel there and said well it isn’t going to be, it’s going to be what it was Wrigley Square, and that’s what it is to this day. 

Bob was asked about his duties as Sexton
When you were Sexton you had to dig graves, a real effort that was because burial was the rule then rather than the exception.  In winter time, short daylight, it was real hard going, at the finish I used to have to get a couple of Greenacres diggers one of them George, was a real old card, he was said ‘I’ll be down toneet with a storm lamp’, and he used to dig for Waterhead by candle-light, course it was good odd-money.  But of course, if they had got to know at Greenacres he would have got at least a good ticking off.  It was really rough going, you used to have half a day’s digging to get to the actual plot in a blizzard.  

Bob referred to the story of  ‘The clock’
‘Margaret’s father comes into that, I was living over Waterhead at the time, and I had just come out of the churchyard and Harry said ‘hast tha a minute, what were up wi’ that theer clock last neet, he said I give over counting.  Lewis Wrigley, he used to see to it, perhaps a nut here or a bit of wire there, and it took off this particular night, Harry said I gave ower counting at seventy two, there’s summut wrong there.  It was terror to wind up with two long heavy weights down a  shaft, and there was barley room to get your shoulders in to get this key on, and that was the problem.  If it went a bit faster or slower you weighted it with coins to make the swing shorter or take them off and make it swing longer.  Ian McFee had it rebuilt by Potts the big clockmakers and of course it’s not run badly ever since, although it had ad to be rectified lately.

Reminded about his phrase ‘gone boggart Bob said –
That was an old name, more or less appertaining to witches, as in Boggart hole clough,   If it was a runaway horse you used to say it was ‘taken boggart’.  The old people used lots of old words and phrases, and that was one of them.

The old yard, there used to be some fun out there, you could be digging and the sides would come in, five or six looking at you (coffins) you know, with the sides slipping.  A terrible place, I don’t know if there were any burial laws in those days, 1828, there might have been there might not.  It got a bit tough, I wondered what I had let myself in for sometimes one way or another.  

When asked if it had given him any bad dreams, Bob said no, but on one occasion…….
There was a vault, you know Clara who used to sing in the choir, they had a vault in the old yard, and I couldn’t find the entrance to it, and I was sweating because time was running out.  And old Mrs. Ashworth at the end of Taylor Green there, a real old card she was, I thought I’ll go and see if Mrs. Ashworth knows anything.  ‘ Aye I do lad, I know where it is and I’ll tek thee down an all’ – and she did, straight to it.  And the entrance to it was at the back the grave was facing east and when we pushed it away (the flagstone) there was a short flight of steps down, and there as was as we got in was a skeleton of a woman and a fourteen year old lad, you can read it on the grave stone now.  They had never been cased off, you see they are put on shelves and then they should be bricked off, five courses of bricks.  Of course they had never been sealed off and the water had seeped through.  

When asked if he got paid per grave Bob said ..

Yes,  that was extra, next to nothing - after a hard days work half a crown could be thrown at you!


(missing off the tape is the story of Bob being called over from the day school by the then vicar, who asked him to be Godfather to a baby which had been brought in by some Gypsies)


Bob then spoke about his family and his early life

My mother was one of ten, I was born there and spent a vast amount of time with Great Grandparents.  I had good parents mind you, but I always seemed to be drawn to them somehow or another.  And she was born in 1849, both of them,  a very devout woman was the old lady.  She wore a bonnet and cape, and there was always grace before meals.  Bob talked about her handwriting – she used to write with two fingers on the pen, the old man he could read but could not write and had to sign with the cross.
He was a carter, two horses at sixteen years old, they used to travel from Oldham to Manchester in those days with goods, 1849.  My grandmother lost her husband very quick, he was a foundry worker, five foot nothing, but had full command of the lot of them.
The store, Dixons at were at one corner of Church Street and the co-op at the other, and she used to shop at lot but the house was at Newbank, top of the school gates, she used to come up with both hands full, and a dozen of flour on her head, and she used to go through the institute ground and through the playground of the school.  The school master used to say take those off your grandmother and get home, but back right away.  Aye, flour on her head and she was five foot nothing, but it was hard going.

When asked about his brother and sisters 
They all survived, but Edith died before her twenties, but the rest, Aunt Alice retired to Fleetwood and then they are buried in St. Annes, oh, she couldn’t do with cremation.  Get away, I said, it’s only proper way now.  


You could do anything in those days, have a few pigeons, rabbits in your back yard, nowadays they want it in triplicate these days.  There used to be a short distance union, not homing pigeons, throw them up on High Moor, Brighton Road, with a tail wind a good pigeon could do it in one minute.  There was big money, the Christmas Sweep was Five pounds  The old stop watches were synchronised, and they used to follow them round to where they had to drop – UP, that meant they had to throw up the bird at the synchronised time. 

Bob refers to a local character
Do you remember Old Vic, the Red Setter, he used to stand in front of the ice-cream van and who would not budge until he got his cornet.   He would stop the ice cream van, bark away and wait until he got his cornet.



The Day School was a massive effort, strongly built, and the parish hall now is built out of the Day School stone.  Mr. Jackson built the parish hall, and the Chapel bought the school, they couldn’t come to terms about the slates, so Mr. Jackson had to go to Mossley for his slates.  Underneath there was a cellar and underneath that there was a trap, and you could get underneath and there was stored the platform, built in sections, spars and flats and all that, and Ben Fairhurst was the Headmaster at that time and anything going off that required the platform being put up meant you came up absolutely black.  He was a great Headmaster, buried in the little cemetery, as Dr. Grundy is buried in the old cemetery.  The old cemetery was started in 1828 and it was full up, and the new graves were a 1928 extension, that’s a little street, you’ll know it, just round by the old peoples bungalows are.  That was consecrated by Dr. Temple the then Bishop of Manchester and the gateposts are inscribed.  The parish has been really overwhelmed with building, luckily there’s something been saved on the top side there, there’s a little hamlet called Top’t Meadows - it’s really untouched, mainly anyway.  
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The Delph Donkey used to run from Saddleworth through Grotton, there was a station at Grotton but the engine sheds were at Delph and they used to stoke the engines up at night ready for shunting, there was a lot of railway goods traffic in those days.   The Delph Donkey, well, on its last run it was nearly pulled to pieces, every item that could be stripped… it wasn’t vandalism it was souvenirs, they grabbed the lot because it finished.

Now the Stamford Mill was where that other little development is on the right hand side going down.  You know where all the little units are now facing the garage.  Now that was a mill that I don’t remember working – then Warren’s Acorn Mill, that would have been a cotton mill.  And the old peoples bungalows, there was a group of cottages that stood off the road, a bit of rough grass not lawn, and they were demolished and the bungalows built, and somebody tried it on that the whole lot was going to be St. Johns Street, but somebody put a spoke in the wheel there and said well it isn’t going to be – it’s going to be what it was, Wrigley Square and it’s Wrigley Square to this day.  Oldham tried it on in Greenacres, let me see now, it comes up from Wellyhole – I forget his name now, a big Congregationalist he was, of course Greenacres is over three hundred and fifty years old, and it was named after him – Constantine Street– and they wanted to call it Wellyhole Street from Greenacres right down to Lees Road, it was scotched, so that didn’t come off.

(Someone asked if, when Bob was Sexton, did he actually dig the graves).  Aye – oh yes, a real effort that was, because grave digging was the rule rather than the exception.  Bob recalled that with the other jobs, caretaker of the day school, school dinners and dashing up there to get on with the digging – oh dear oh dear.  In winter time with short daylight it was real hard going – at finish I used to have to go round by a sort of back door route for a couple of the Greenacres diggers – I forget his name now, a real old card he was.  Right he said, Ah’ll be down ‘toneet’ w’it storm lamp.  Course it was good odd money to him, but had it got known at Greenacres he would have got at least a good ticking off.  But it got really bad in a blizzard, it took half a day digging out to get to the actual plot, so it was really rough going.

Bob referred to the story of  ‘the clock’.  Margaret’s father comes in on that, I was living over in Waterhead at the time and I had just come out of the church yard there, and Margaret’s father Harry said,  Has’t a minute, I said Aye, he said what were up wi’ that there clock last neet he said it went on to seventy and I gave o’er counting.  It was Lewis Wrigley who used to see to it, perhaps a nut here or a bit of wire there, and it took off this particular night.  It was a terror to wind up – two big heavy weights down a shaft and there was barely room to get your shoulders in to get this key on.  When it went a bit fast or a bit slow you weighted it with coins so you made the swing shorter or longer, but Ian McFie had it rebuilt by Potts, the big clockmakers in Leeds and it’s not gone badly ever since.  When asked about it going boggart, Bob said that was an old name appertaining to witches, if it was a runaway horse it was taken boggart.  There were a lot of words the old people used, and that was one of them.

Referring back to the new graveyard, when asked if it was in use Bob said there hadn’t been one for about three years, but it was still open.  But there used to be some fun in the old graveyard when you were digging, there could be five or six (coffins) looking at you.  A terrible place, no burial laws probably in those days - 1828.  It was a bit of a lark, but it got a bit tough, I wondered what I had let myself in for some times one way or another.  When asked if it gave him any bad dreams Bob laughed and said no never.  Only once, not a bad dream, but when Clara who used to sing in the choir died, they had a vault in the old yard but Bob couldn’t find the entrance to it.  I was sweating because time was running out, and then old Mrs. Ashworth at the end of Taylor Green there, a real old card she was, I thought I will go and see if she knows anything.  Aye I do, she said, and I’ll go and tek thee down.  Straight to it lad she went.  The entrance to it was at the back, the grave was facing east and the entrance was a the back and when we pushed the flag stone away there was a short flight of steps down and there as we got in was a skeleton of a woman and a young lad, you can read it on the grave stone now, they had never been cased off.  You see they are put on shelves and then they should be bricked off, five courses of brick, and they had never been sealed off, and of course the water had seeped through; so that was another one.

Bob said he got paid per grave, but after a hard day’s work it was next to nothing, it was only an old half-crown that would be thrown at you!

Bob reminisced about his family.  
My mother was one of ten – I spent a vast amount of time with grandparents, I had good parents mind you but I always seemed to be drawn to them one way and another.  She was born in 1849 – a very devout woman the old lady, I can see her with her bonnet and cape now.  She used to write, but the old man he could read but couldn’t write and had to sign with a cross.  He was a Carter, two horses at sixteen years old, and they used to travel from Oldham to Manchester in those days with goods, he was also born in 1849.  I was very lucky to have such good grandparents, five foot nothing my grandmother, but she had full command of the lot of them.  The Store (Co-op) was at one end of Church Street, the house was at what they call Newbank at the top of the School gates.  She would go shopping and come back loaded up with bags, and carrying bags of flour on her head, and there was a way through the playground of the school, and the schoolmaster used to see her and say take those for your grandmother and get home – but back right away mind!  She was five foot nothing, but all these bags on her head.  It was hard going.  

You could do anything in those days, have a few pigeons or rabbits in your back yard there, but today they want it in triplicate and it wouldn’t be allowed anyway, no matter who signed it.  There used to be a short distance union, not homing pigeons, they used to throw them up on Highmoor, Brighton Road there, and there used to be different lofts and pubs in particular.  It was big money, the Christmas Sweep was £5.00!
The old stopwatches were synchronised.  (There followed a little conversation about homing pigeons and the Devonshire Pub in Lees which lead Bob on to another recollection)  

There was an old war veteran of the 1914-18 war who lived in Den Lane there and he used to walk from Hey to the Pots and Pans Memorial Service every Armistice Day and I hardly ever saw that chap (John Swan) without something in his lapel almost throughout the year even if it was only a spring flower.  His last journey was from the Devonshire pub, they thought that much of him, the lads.

Bob spoke about Dr. Grundy being buried in the old graveyard, by the dividing wall between the old part and the new part, and if you go down towards the middle of the old part there’s a gap that lets you into the new part, and he’s buried there under the black flag.  It mentions his maidservant on the gravestone, she came from down south somewhere.  His wife is there was well.  There’s an interesting photograph in the vestry – he’s there with his dog!  After he had done fifty years the window near the Stamford Road gates was installed and the bosses are carved out GDG and the date, and then of course he went on thirty years after that and the floor tablet was put down.  My grandfather used to say he had an umbrella as big as a bell tent!  

Bob asked Margaret if she remembered Old Vic the Red Setter, he used to stand in front of the Ice Cream Van and he wouldn’t budge until he had had his cornet.  Bob said Margaret’s Dad showed him one day – just watch this he said, he pulled his pipe out of his mouth and put it in Vic’s mouth and there was Vic the dog walking about with the pipe.  He was a grand ‘un, he would stop the Ice Cream Van and he wouldn’t stir until he got his cornet.  

Bob spoke about the Football team, the Cricket team and the Hockey team.  You had to make your own amusement in those days he said.  There used to be a billiard league, one place we used to go to was a little cottage with the upstairs broken through and it housed a three-quarters table and if the ball got under what they called the dip, you were up against the wall and you had to use the poker to play with instead of a cue.  On one occasion when we went and we had to open the door to get a particular shot in – aye all sorts went on.  


There then followed a lot of general conversation after which the tape ran out.  Listening to it again was a real joy, you could imagine Bob was in the room with you.  He was interesting and amusing and, above all, a real gentleman.  I hope you have all enjoyed reading about Bob’s reminiscences as much as I enjoyed transcribing them.

Kath Sellars.