Evacuated
to Crook
By
Genia
Futers
It is now 65 years since I was evacuated and I
never fail to remember that Sunday.
War was declared on 3rd September 1939 at 11am.
The next week at school the time was mainly spent telling us all about
evacuation, where we were going, and what we had to take with us.
Our belongings had to be packed inside a pillow-case as suitcases weren't
allowed.
I was 12 years old at the time and we were all very excited and
wanted to go away. Our parents
didn't send us, we asked if we could go. I
think it was the spirit of adventure in us as most of us had never been very far
away from home.
On Sunday, 10th September we arrived at Jarrow Railway Station and
were boarded onto the train with the teachers placed in charge of a certain
number of pupils.
When we arrived in Crook, which was our destination, we all
paraded down Hope Street from the Railway Station to the school.
There we were given some tea but, by now, we were not feeling so brave!
Someone called our names and my sister, another girl, and I were taken by
the Billeting Officer to our new home.
This was a beautiful house set in its own grounds.
It was owned by four dear ladies who looked after us well.
None of them had been married so the prospect of taking in three school
girls must have been quite daunting for them.
The house, 'Holmfield', in St. Mary's Avenue became, years later, an old
peoples home and has now been converted to a housing complex.
(By one of those amazing coincidences that pepper our lives the vicar of
our local church in Stanley has recently moved into a house on the very same
site!)
The Crook schoolchildren shared their school with us. One week we attended in the morning and they went in the
afternoon and vice versa the following week.
When we were not at school we went for organised walks with the teachers
and if it was wet we were taken to a hall where we could talk or knit.
The teachers worked hard to keep us happy and were always on call.
On a Friday night we held our school dances in the Elite Ballroom (didn't we feel grown up?). Our Xmas Party was also held there and what a night that was.
Everyone dressed up, long dresses and dance shoes and the boys were smart
too. The teachers also dressed up
and spared no effort to make the party a success. I still have my party ticket which cost one shilling.
My sister has a magazine produced by the pupils and teachers whilst we
were in Crook and she has promised to give Lance access to it when she comes
North (she now lives in Lincs) in December.
I visited Crook again many, many, years later and I saw the house
I stayed in. The Railway Station
has gone and is now a green belt with lots of new houses nearby. I saw the church in the Market Place where we worshipped on
Sundays and the 'Devil Stones', also in the Market Place; they are quite
impressive. Hope Street looked
shorter than I remembered and the Hippodrome had gone.
Lastly I had a wistful look at the Elite Ballroom just across the stream.
We made friends and had lots of fun, and to the people of Crook
who took us into their hearts sixty-five years ago I would like to say a big
thank you. The overwhelming welcome
that we received did much to dispel any worries which we had, as young children,
about leaving home.
Genia Futers November 2004