That Reminds Me... New Year's nostalgia with Jeff Dunn

Some from old news stories, and some of my own. I'll start with one of mine.

Although we weren't a superstitious family (none of us avoided walking under ladders, or had to touch wood for luck) when it came to letting in the New Year, it was a different kettle of kippers.

There was an annual tradition that my Uncle "Skip" Edwards, my mother's brother, from Coombs Drive, would call at our house in Pill, shortly after midnight, to do the honours.

Apparently, and don't ask me why, the superstition goes that if a woman is the first visitor in the New Year, and a man opens the door, it's considered to be unlucky.

Even more odd is that if the first bloke through the door is a redhead that too bodes badly for the coming year.

Uncle "Skip" (not a red hair in sight) was a great bloke, always full of fun, who'd entertain me with outlandish tales of when he used to go to sea.

In those days our families got together on a weekly basis and there was lots of fun and laughter.

My mum used to "pull his leg" saying that he bore an uncanny resemblance to the famous film star, Robert Mitchum.

But we weren't his only ports of call on New Years Eve, there were quite a few others on "his round," so, by the time he reached us, he was often "nicely warmed up".

And, quite often, he was accompanied by his mother-in-law, Mrs "Lil" Harries, another character, and who's laugh could be heard two streets away.

My mum insisted that it should always be her brother who knocked on our front door, and who stepped first over the threshold, where he'd be handed a lump of coal, a half crown, and a mince pie.

Once that ritual was over, he, and Mrs Harries, were given a large sherry or port, before heading off to their next call.

I was always allowed to stay up until after my favourite uncle's visit, and, one year in particular, will forever stick in my mind.

It was a night when the weather was quite dreadful.

There was a huge thunderstorm. We shuddered, listening to hail, thumping against the window panes, and then - at midnight - had a three-way hug, as the myriad of boats in the harbour, hooted and blasted the arrival of a new year.

Then the electric went off, and we were plunged into darkness.

My dad scrambled around, lighting candles.

It was a night not fit for a dog to be out, let alone humans.

1 am passed, and there was no sign of anyone calling (we had no phone so couldn't ring to find out).

Outside, the thunder continued to rumble angrily, and lightning spasmodically lit up our eerie living

room.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the front door. I leapt to my feet, picking up the coal, cash and cake, determined to be the one to answer the call.

Opening the door, I was gobsmacked. It was snowing, heavily and, seeing the Crescent was a white wonderland,

it obviously had been for a while.

A lightning flash startled me, and allowed me to see the pair who were standing on the doorstep.

It was a grinning, red nosed Robert Mitchum, and a cackling female Yeti (in matching hat, scarves and gloves).

Before I could move, a huge thunderclap sent "Lil" the snow-woman scurrying passed me into the hall, quickly followed by a still grinning Uncle Skip.

It was my fault - the New Year's Eve superstition had been broken!

My mother laughed off the mishap but, now I come to think about it, I'm sure that was the year when someone pinched the dandy I'd had as a Xmas present.... and I bet it was a bloke with red hair!

Here's a snowy snap to go with the tale.

Here a few unusual news items from late 1941.

"Eighty-three residents of North Road, Eastleigh Drive, and Imperial Terrace, have signed a petition against Milford's Fair.

"They complained that there were numerous covered lorries and caravans parked on the field, and a merry-go-round erected with an awning.

"The locals fear that, together with the vehicles and the sand bagged machine gun post, from the air

it will look like a Military Establishment, and appear as a suitable target for enemy bombers."

Around the same time, a Service Boxing tournament was held at the County School's Sports Field. The crowd enjoyed a fine afternoon show in delightful weather.

The bouts were of a high standard, but the climax proved a little disappointing.

All the finalists for the Flyweight and Featherweight contests went missing.

And it wasn't only in the ring that fists were flying.

"Two Belgians were arrested in the Conservative Club for being drunk and disorderly and fighting.

Some of the Members defended themselves with snooker cues."

The second snap is of Charles Street during the war.

For the trawling fraternity, there was this item.

"A reward for gallantry has been given to the Skipper and crew who stood by an attacked sister ship and saved their crew, despite the fact that the other boat was ablaze and believed to have an unexploded bomb aboard.

"The Skipper of the bombed trawler was Wally Watson, and in charge of the rescuing ship was Billy Griffiths, with Ivor Broome as his Mate.

"They managed to save the bombed trawler as well, and £150 was divided between the Skipper and crew by the National War Risks Association."

The second Xmas of the war saw more and more wooly toys being sold by Hakin

children in aid of the Red Cross.

Roy Batten and Betty Rackley of Waterloo Road brought 4 shillings to the Rectory,

where it was gratefully acknowledged.

The police were also kept busy.

"A new type of thief has appeared in the town.

On a couple of nights last week, lines of clothes left out overnight at the rear end of Priory Road and Cromwell Road were systematically raided.

The thief, or thieves, had an eye on clothing coupons, because all the articles stolen comprised of ladies underwear and stockings."

"Anything you say may be taken down and used in evidence. Now, what have you got

there?"

"Knickers!"

Time for teasers. The song last week was.."It's beginning to look a lot like Xmas" and

all those singing in tune were..Les Haynes; Tricia Hawthorn; Sheila Rimmer; Georgie

Bennett; Maureen Hardaker; Anne & Jets Llewellyn; Royston Holman and Margaret Jones.

Thanks to all who found time to take part. Not one this week as I'm taking a break.

Sadly, I'm signing off this year's TRM with a heavy heart. Yet another good friend has passed away. Tony "Robbo" Robertson. He was, without doubt, the kindest, most helpful guy I've ever known. Not a day went by when he wasn't doing someone a favour

or good turn. He was also a huge TRM follower, especially the trawling section.

There are definitely very few people around like Robbo, and he will indeed be sorely

missed.

Thanks for all the feedback during the past year, it's been great.

Happy New Year.