Rich Kid wrote:
I was born in Beaconsfield and was brought up in Chalfont St Giles, and although I now live in Hampshire I'm very fond of 'going back home' to Bucks where many happy memories come flooding back. Memories that you have growing up never leave you, at least that's what I find.
I fully agree with you there Rich Kid. I'm well into that stage of life where I have to renew my driving license every three years. Memories of years gone by, especially childhood memories, are all the more pleasant these days. Not only do those childhood memories never leave – they become clearer, sharper, more profound. One of my earliest memories as a child is lying awake in bed at night listening the endless rhythmic beating drone of the engines of hundreds of propeller driven aircraft heading for Germany.
Life seemed simpler in those days; and far less threatening - even though we lived through the effects, aftermath, and shortages brought about by WWII.
Sadly, children of today will never see, experience, and enjoy some of the same freedoms and innocences we took for granted; such as the friendly copper who was also ready to give a timely word of advice, or even a firm reprimand, without the need for full body armour and an array of radio links and cameras. I never saw police constables carrying automatic weapons in those days, dressed as if ready for battle on the front-line of WWIII. A coper used to present a friendly face of stability – today's copper is a threatening paramilitary looking for armed confrontation, one that is more likely to force you to the ground, clamp you with handcuffs, than he/she is tell you the time.
I can't claim any pride for having been born in Amersham. My mother had been evacuated from her home in the London Docklands in the last weeks of her pregnancy because of the nightly blitzkrieg bombing from Germany. So I was born in Amersham; two weeks later my mother returned home to Docklands with me.
Most of Docklands where we lived became an enormous bomb-site of wide-spread destruction, which meant we were constantly being rehoused as properties became available.
During WWII there was an anti-aircraft battery installed in Gunnersbury Park, for which a large number of accommodation huts had been erected for the military. At the end of WWII, and after the military had vacated Gunnersbury Park, those accommodation huts were made available for 'housing' needy families. My parents and family lived in one of those wooden huts for 4 years; which was the longest period we lived in any one 'home' until my parents moved to Hayes in 1954/5.
In those early days Hayes seemed like another world; it even had "Urban" in the name of the local council, there were wide open spaces of fields and woods to explore, country lanes without footpaths or street lighting, drainage ditches lining unpaved roads. But slowly, change was inflicted on Hayes and its residents, the rate of change eventually became a torrent that led to a flood, that finally led me and my family to run for the hills.
I eventually left Hayes and moved to Somerset. We do have floods down here, but at least they are somewhat more natural and predictable floods.
Am I proud of having been born in Amersham – not al all.
Am I proud of Docklands, my first home? The Docklands I knew is no longer there, it has become a rich man's playground.
Am I proud of Gunnersbury Park? No, not proud; but I do have a lot of good childhood memories from living there. An ex-military camp makes a great playground for kids with imaginations.
Do I have any pride for Hayes, the place I lived for a very large proportion of my life? I left Hayes in a state of despair, even fear for what I saw developing. A murder by stabbing in a public place, in broad daylight about 100 yards from my home finally decided that we had to leave Hayes. I have no pride for Hayes, but I do have a lot of grief for what has been done to Hayes and the surrounding area against the wishes of the people who used to live and work there.
The same applies to my country. I have no pride for my country any more, because my Britain and England no longer exist; they have been deliberately destroyed and given away to foreign powers by treasonous UK politicians who have no sense of duty or responsibility towards we ordinary and indigenous Brits.
Yes, I value my childhood memories – all the more so because they provide a constant reminder of what the political class have stolen from us.