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A Family Tale.
This story of a family event was inspired purely by a chance meeting of two cousins in a restaurant , sitting having a meal reminiscing about by gone days one mentioned the air raid in 1943 and would never forget the state Nanna was in after being rescued and taken to their house , the other mentioned of seeing the rescue ,it then became apparent that in almost 60 years neither had known of the others involvement , a decision was made to record our recollections.
Nanna`s Ordeal.
Following an air raid on the night of March the 11th 1943 considerable damage had been caused by bombs on residential areas of Thornaby ,our house with many others in James street had roof damage , ceilings down and windows blown out we were extremely fortunate as 3 to 4 streets away the houses were demolished and our local ARP warden had been killed . The intervening streets of houses had considerable blast damage at least as damaged as our own house, following the `All Clear` as people started to emerge from the shelters information started to circulate and it became apparent that other parts of Thornaby had suffered damage ,my mother was extremely concerned about Nanna her mother and was anxious to check on her, as I accompanied her every where we walked debris glass and slates littered the streets and crunched underfoot , we arrived at the house in Prospect Place where Nanna was being cared for by my Aunt , Nanna had been terminally ill with cancer for some time and the ravages of the disease had taken its toll in her physical appearance.. To our extreme concern we noticed the damage to the houses in the vicinity some a few hundred yards away in Stephenson street were almost demolished, on arrival at my aunts we saw rescue workers bringing a stretcher out of the house ,they explained that Nanna had been placed under the table for her own protection during the raid as she was too ill to go to a shelter, when the rescuers arrived they found her lying there among chimney soot, broken glass and debris from the ceiling, as the Wardens took her away wrapped heavily in blankets they carried lanterns to light their way to my uncles house in Georgiana street , a less damaged area.
Nanna`s Continuing Ordeal
On that awful night when the German plane dropped the bomb , my lovely little Nanna (Kate Huitson)was asleep in her down stairs front room ,the windows were taped up for safety . Then the blast came and poor little Nanna was suddenly covered in soot and broken glass, No ambulance that night, two men carried her on a stretcher to our house three streets away I can remember how we picked splintered glass from her face , hair and body and gradually bathed her gently until all the soot was washed away from her, sadly my lovely little Nanna passed away a few short weeks later, I will never forget that dreadful night as long as I live.
COMPILED BY ; Keith Featherstone and Nancy Maughan (nee Huitson) the respective cousins mentioned ( at the ages of three score years and ten ) on this 19th day of October in the year 2000..
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The Thornaby Song
Now some people talk about their own home town
Way down there in Tennessee.
They talk about the cotton fields and sugar cane
Way down there in Tennessee.
So lend me your ears folks,
And listen to me,
While I divulge to you the place,
Where I long to be.
Theres a little place upon old Britains map
Where I first saw daylight from my mothers lap,
I`ve never roamed through the cotton fields or the sugar cane,
For I always got my sugar from Pumphreys down the lane.
But when I grew up to be a man all the lust was mine
As I altered my mothers Golden rule.
You can keep New York and your Tennessee
There`s a little place there on the River Tees
And I`m coming back to you sweet Thornaby.
Oh why did I ever leave my old home town,
I`m as blue as blue can be ,
For I miss my feet down Westbury Street
Down Mandale Road,
Why did I ever roam
For the New York girls are pretty
All dressed in their robes
But when it comes to pretty girls
Just give me Mandale Road.
There`s a little place on old Britains map
Where i first saw daylight from my mothers lap
You can keep new York and your Tennessee
Theres a little place on the River Tees
And I`m coming home to you sweet THORNABY.
Written by the late Bozzer Jackson and reproduced from Beneath The Lamps by The Remembering Thornaby Group.
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