KIT Newsletter

Vol XIX No 1 January 2007

The KIT Newsletter, an Activity of the KIT Information Service, A Project of the Peregrine Foundation
P.O. Box 460141 San Francisco, CA 94146-0141 telephone: (415) 386-6072 http://www.perefound.org
Newsletter Staff: Charles Lamar, David E. Ostrom, Miriam Arnold Holmes, Erdmuthe Arnold, Ben Cavanna
The KIT Newsletter is an open forum for fact and opinion. It encourages the expression of all views, both from within and from outside
the Bruderhof. The opinions expressed in the letters that we publish are those of the correspondents and do not necessarily reflect
those of KIT editors or staff. Yearly suggested donation rates (4 issues): $15 USA; $20Canada;
$25 International mailed from USA; 10 mailed from UK to Europe.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Keep In Touch ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Whole KIT and Caboodle ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~Table of Contents~~~~~
Joy Johnson Macdonald
Nadine MoonjePleil
Elizabeth Bohlken Zumpe
ErdmutheArnold
Anthony Lord
Arthur Lord - Life Story

1
1
1
2
2
3

Joy Johnson MacDonald, 6/09/06: Linda

asked me to pass on a message she received
from Madeleine Dorrell. Her mother Nellie,
has died aged ninety-one years following a
second stroke. I contacted Renatus who has
kept contact with Nellie and those of her family who live in theTorquay area where Gerald
and Nellie and family settled after leaving
the Bruderhof in the early 60s.
Renatus and his brother Hartmuth will
go to the funeral next Tuesday, and will give
the family, some of whom are travelling from
far away countries, our best wishes and
thoughts.
My memories of their family begin when
they arrived in Evergreen where a group of
young people from both Woodcrest and Oak
Lake had been seconded to clean and renovate this newest of communities in 1958. The
Dorrells and several other families were the
first to be installed, rapidly followed by more
and more.
Anne was closest in age to me and we
struck up a friendship. I next met their family
in Torquay in the summer of 1963 when my
sister Susan and I were having a Youth Hostelling / hitch hiking holiday to Devon and
Cornwall, dropping in on the Pavitts, our
Uncle and Aunt and a few other friends. Then
in 1991 Gerald and Nellie joined us at the
first EuroKIT gathering at The Ridgeway and
were keen and supportive friends of exBruderhofers and we were able to renew our
friendships. Best wishes,
Nadine Pleil, 06/11/06: I have known the
Dorrells since 1941. They lived in Isla
Margarita. Their son Michael was born on
my birthday. When Gerald and Nellie were
sent to Asuncion for quite some time, Victor
and Hilda and I looked after their children.
We enjoyed doing that very much.
Nellie was a very quiet person, very

friendly and very loving. She had a soft spot

in her heart for me. Nellie was rather frail in
health and had a large family. She was very
dedicated to her family and did her very best
in whatever was asked of her. She did not
find life in Paraguay too easy. She suffered
quite a bit from the heat.
I have very fond memories of both
Gerald and Nellie. August and I recently had
a letter from Francis Dorrell who lives in
Australia. He remembers times when he and
some other boys went out into the woods
with August and how much he enjoyed being with August.
When August and I became engaged,
we, that is Victor and Hilda and I were still
taking care of the Dorrell family. August
joined in, helping especially with the boys.
It was a good time and we truly enjoyed looking after the Dorrell children. Gerald and
Nellie were so grateful that we looked after
their family. At the time their family was already quite large.
Nellie and I have been in touch by letter
for many years and August and I had a delightful visit in July 1994 when we were in
England. It was heartwarming to be able to
sit, reminisce and laugh together.
Both Gerald and Nellie were so glad that
we had made the effort to visit them. Since
we were visiting relatives in Torquay, we
could not possibly leave without seeing
Gerald and Nellie. So now we have to say
good bye to some very dear friends.
Farewell to both of you, Gerald and
Nellie. August and Nadine
Elizabeth Bohlken Zumpe, 6/26/06: Dear
friends, We had just returned from Ameland
when I received a telephone call from Migg
Fischli. He will be ninety tomorrow, June
27th. The city of Oberrieden gave a big party
at the Town Hall last night for several elderly men and women who had turned ninety
or ninety-five in the last six months. He was
allowed to bring eight guests (his children)
for the festive dinner, which included music
and drama.
His son Hans (sometimes known on the
Buderhof as Hansli) telephoned yesterday
afternoon, saying he was on his way, riding
1

his motorbike. He loved this motorbike and

said to his father, Its so wonderful to have
the wind around my ears all worries seem
to disappear! He never arrived at the party.
Migg was telephoned by Hans son to say
that his father had been in a bad accident
and died instantly. Migg will naturally not
celebrate tomorrow, but all his children and
grandchildren will be there to support him!
I feel so sad for Migg. Accidents are
horrible, you seem to have no chance to say
goodbye and there is absolutely no way to
give this death a place in your mind and
heart, at least not now.
He said: Ich probiere mich damit zu
trsten, dass mein Hans gleich in den Himmel
gefahren ist! (I try to find comfort in the
thought, that my Hans drove himself right
into heaven!)
This must be so hard for him! Migg tried
to telephone with Darvell and Woodcrest,
but he said the numbers seemed to be
changed. Later he did make contact. Love,
Nadine Pleil, 07/13/06: I heard two days
ago that Jeannette Keiderling, Peter
Keiderlings wife, died March 17,th 2006. She
had a stroke and never regained consciousness.
Elizabeth Bohlken Zumpe, 7/26/06: Jeanette
Keiderlings maiden name was Rudolf. She
was a full niece to Anni Rudolf Mathis and
Lini Rudolf Fischer. She came to Wheathill
in 1953. When Peter Mathis visited Switzerland on a begging mission in his home
country. Jeanette, joined Peter and Jrg on
their return to Primavera in 1955. As she was
somewhat older than we were she was not in
the youth group, but we got to know her as
a fun loving person. She loved music and
played the accordion well. I think she also
gave us some Jodel experiences, which
were good. She was not tall, She had a full
head of dark curls, and always a happy, smiling face. She must have been around eighty
years old by now.
I have no idea when, why or how they
left the Community, or when she got married
to Peter Keiderling.

KIT Newsletter
Nadine Pleil, 09/11/06: I heard today that
John Hinde died September 4th, 2006. John
Victor Hinde was born July 4th 1919. He and
Gwen wee married March 1, 1957. They were
married forty-nine years.
We used to tease John about being the
Englishman with the very American birthday. He always took it in good part.
I have known John since I was ten years
old. Some years after we moved to New
Meadow Run John and I worked in the office. We got on very well together. John was
a pillar of strength and I never really saw him
get angry or greatly upset. If there was an
upset in the office, he would stay calm and
say, Well the best thing is to sit down together and talk about it. So that is what we
did.
Some years after we were sent away from
the Bruderhof John and Gwen came to visit
us. John said he had been sent to visit us as
he had known me since I was a little girl.
Actually John had been sent to try and woo
us back to the Bruderhof. He tried very hard,
however it did not work out the way he
wanted. I personally was very glad to see
John, but was not so happy about the fact
that the Bruderhof thought that because
John had known me since I was a little girl,
that he would be able to persuade me to go
back to the bruderhof. Apart from all that,
once we had all that out of the way we were
able to have a very nice visit with both John
and Gwen and were able to talk about some
of the good and happy times in Primavera.

Celebrating the Life

of Arthur Lord
By ErdmutheArnold
Arthur Lord died early during the hours
of March 25th, 2006 only one month before
he would have celebrated his 90th birthday
on April 27th. His health had been getting
worse over the past few weeks. As Linda
Jackson already reported, the weekend before, the family had been together, and all
had spent time with their father. Arthur donated his mortal remains to science, as did
Mildred, his beloved wife six years before
him. She died January 5th, 2000.Arthur missed
her very much. As he told Christine Mathis
about a year ago, he was not afraid to die.
The north-westerner answered her question
then, Noh, Ah cant waeyt. Now he is together with Mildred again.
Sharing Arthur Lords death with
friends, the family had asked people not to
send flowers, but rather donate to the Practical Action Group in his name. Arthur admired their philosophy in helping people in
poorer countries to help themselves. With
their friends generosity the Lord family could
fund more than five hundred and fifty pounds
for the project Kamayoq Farmer Trainer.
It focuses on training and helping people to
make use of the resources they already have,

also to help keep their animals healthy. Poorest communities in the Peruvian Andes will
profit from this donation. A Kamayoq (the
local Quechua name for farmer trainers),
trained by Practical Action (http:/
www.itdg.org/), can develop affordable and
effective treatments, made from a blend of
local herbs and can show farmers how to
make and administer the medicine.
At Easter (April 16th) the family gathered for their farewell to Dad. Together with
good friends they then celebrated the life of
Arthur Lord on the 27th of May
2006, hosted by Christine and
Jrg Mathis at Clearwaters. Linda
and Aendel read extracts from the
many letters, which for them drew
a picture of their father and several friends told of their experiences with Arthur. Eunice had
prepared and handed out a booklet of photos, telling the story of
the various phases of her fathers
life.
Susan Suleski, one of the
friends, shared the following on
the Hummer: We had a lovely
time of reminiscing and singing
some of Arthurs favourite
songs. Like most of his generation of Bruderhof joiners, Arthur
was an unusual man who was trying to
make a difference before he joined. He saw
the Bruderhof as an opportunity to work with
like-minded people. They were young and
optimistic and learned as they went.
Let me just add how glad I was to have
been in contact with Arthur during the last
years. His words had much wisdom, faith
and love. He also felt this love for those on
the Bruderhof. Until the end he had correspondence with personal friends there, and
he treasured this contact.
Anthonys memories about his Dads
life, written down for the celebration, drew
out a real picture of what Arthur Lord was
like for his family and all who knew him.

Arthur Dad
By Anthony Lord
Arthur Lord was born in Preston and
later moved to Longridge where he grew up
as a considerate young man interested in
church life and the teachings of Christ. But
he also enjoyed a good laugh. At one point
he even intended to bring out his own news
paper.
One of his great enjoyments was music,
singing whistling, sometimes in a pub, shop
or other embarrassing places; also playing
the violin and piano. He became a conscientious objector and during the war was sent
to the Carlisle and other fire services. During this time he married mum and they had
22

Vol XIX No 1 January 2007

their first two children living in a terraced
house in Longridge.
Dad believed not only in peace and true
Christianity but also in brotherly love, that
all men are equal and that the elements, land,
water, fuel, et cetera were Gods gift for all to
use. They should not be owned for private
gain. He was also a family man and laid great
value on family unity. Toward the end of the
war it was therefore a logical step to join the
community in Wheathill, where the family
increased by four Steven, dying later on.

Arthur Lord
It was there where he spent probably the
hardest, but also the most enjoyable and
fulfilling time of his life. He loved the living
together and working for a communal goal,
living his idea of true Christianity.
Always a great enthusiast of nature and
the land he was now enjoying singing, whistling whilst on the farm working with fellow
men. No wonder that in later years when I
visited, his favorite haunts were driving
down memory lane through Wheathill and
on to Titterstone, where we would sit and he
would talk about those wonderful years.And
of course on the way back he would be whistling some German tune or other.
In 1952 we sailed out to Paraguay and
there again he loved the proximity to nature
and the new challenge. In particular the
chances he got to take the old Chevy tuck
down to the port and if lucky get stuck. The
adventure was great and his love for cars
and lorries could be enjoyable.
He wasnt too happy being put in the
office, but as always he looked at the bright
side. The long hours at the office sometimes
cracked his nerves, on the other hand it
pleased him to present the good progress of
Primavera on the balance sheet.
Communal life changed and went sour,
so with regret and mixed feelings he returned
with his family to Longridge, in good old
England. The beginning was difficult and
frustrating. Dad would go out in the morning tramping from company to company, but

KIT Newsletter
could not get work. His nerves were frayed
when he got home at night, but the family
was together and managing some how with
the help of God. Eventually he got a job as
accountant with an insurance company
where he stayed until retirement. At first he
went to work by bus. After a while, adding
up, he decided it was cheaper to get a moped
which he rode to work in all weather. Now he
was mobile again. At the back of the house
we made Rosado and cleared the trees and
bush for a vegetable garden, flower beds and
lawn. Good friends helped him build a conservatory so things were looking better.
Eventually Dad got his first Saab a
sports model. Now he was really mobile, and
things took a good turn. His greatest pleasure was motoring along, and exploring country lanes off the beaten track and driving up
hills to enjoy the view. In the earlier years
the family always gathered at home for
Christmas. He enjoyed particularly the singing, the get-togethers, not to forget a nip or
two of his home made wine, often fortified.
Dad was quite good at wine making, as the
evening went on and his wine flowed he
would start to talk Spanish and sing German
songs.
As the children eventually had families
of their own, Dad and Mum decided to move
to a smaller house in Shropshire where they
could be nearer to some of the family and
also Esther. Dad enjoyed the countryside,
no doubt sometimes making it unsafe with
his fast driving, so I am told, in particular
getting close to Wheathill, where he had
spent the nicest time of his life. He was a
good driver until he turned the Saab over
and gave up only a few years before he died.
For many years Dad had suffered from
epilepsy, causing him to fall, mostly on his
head or down stairs, and now with his lifes
companion Mildred dead, and his great independence the car gone, he decided
reluctantly that the time had come to be
looked after in sheltered accommodation.
Dad tried to make the best of it and put on a
cheerful spirit. His greatest pleasure was
when someone visited him or took him out
for a run in the car or a visit to one of the
family.
We had arranged for a meal in a country
pub one day. I picked him up and instead of
going the normal way he cut short down
country lanes ending up in Ludlow. The pub
was just outside Bridgenorth. On the way
back we should have turned left for home. I
said Dad which way, left or right. Oh! Right
of course dont you know the way? We
finished up driving through fords and dirt
tracks up on Brown Buff and late back for
supper. Dad was aware that time was running out. As he put it to me on my last visit
Im fading Lad. Well, he will be at peace
now, reunited with Mum.

Vol XIX No 1 January 2007

KIT: We are very happy to publish Arthurs interesting Life Story in this and upcoming
Newsletters. His enthusiastic observation and style of writing are suggestive of his plan to
own and publish a newspaper one dream of his which never came true and which he does
not mention in his memories. Mildred also left behind her Life Story, parts of which we
include where they seem to fit in the narrative set off in box borders; they give more womanly insights especially of the life in early Wheathill.

Short Story of my Life

By Arthur Lord
The First World War had been in
progress for eighteen months when I was
born as the second son of George Ashworth
Lord and Edith Jemima (Gill) Lord on April
27th, 1916 in Lancashire. My names areArthur
Ashworth Lord. My brother Leonard James
was born in 1909. 1922 mother bore her third
child, Kenneth George, who died whilst very
young. Father hailed from Littleborough, a
small textile manufacturing town on the edge
of the moors of East Lancashire. Mother
came from Sheffield Darnall, to be exact.
Childhood in Longridge
At the time when I was born my parents
were closely connected with Avenham Lane
Mission, an evangelical offshoot from Lune
Street Methodist Chapel. The mission welcomed the poorer people
who lived in that part of Preston, while Lime Street Chapel
was somewhat up-market.
We left Preston just before I
was two years old. My father
was being examined before
joining the army, but was rejected on medical grounds.

about 1922. This was in Newtown, a compact little community just south of the main
village. It had once been a hand weaving
and nail making centre.
At first we had very little money; in fact
we always had to watch the pennies. The
partner of one of the mills was a Methodist,
and he found Dad a job in place. He became
Winding-Master, responsible for the winding of cotton on to different pins or bobbins, or on to beams, ready for the looms.
This occupied many women in order to keep
the hundreds of machines supplied. Most
peoples families were connected with the
mills, and the well built stone houses which
form the nucleus of the village were mostly
erected by the mill owners. The quarries and
the foundries also employed a lot of men. All

To understand our move

to Longridge, one must remember that Preston was a
very important cotton-manufacturing town, with dozens
of factories, all of which were
Young Arthur with his parents and older brother
powered by coal fired steam
engines. All the chimneys rose up like giant this activity enabled the Co-operative Society
trunks of a burnt-out pine forest. The dirty to build a splendid central store, with a number
black smoke which they poured out, and the of branches in the district. At that time, one
exhaust steam from the engines created a could buy almost everything one needed at
heavy, unhealthy cloud which turned walls the Co-op, and put aside a nice bonus from
black and got into peoples lungs. Tubercu- the checks which one gummed on to a large
losis was rampant, and there were special sheet.
hospitals to try to bring sufferers back to
When I was five years old I started school,
some sort of health (sanatoriums). Some peohaving
a mile to walk to the infants, conple carried sputum bottles into which they
nected
with
the Council School, still known to
could spit, and not soil pavements or othermany
as
the
independants. It was while we
wise spread the disease.
lived at Pump Street that I first consciously
Longridge had four factories, but be- saw Mildred. She had come down one evening
cause of its position on the breast of to practise for something she was going to do
Longridge Fell, the air was much cleaner. at the chapel. I had already gone to bed, being
There was always a fresh breeze, and the six years her junior. On hearing singing I crept
prevailing wind came from the sea, which is downstairs and peeped round the door, sayseventeen miles to the west. From Market ing, so Im told, You didnt tell me you were
Place, about four-hundred feet above sea having a bit of a toncert! My parents were
level, one can see Blackpool Tower. We soon very fond of Mildred, with her long golden
moved to Pump Street, where we lived until hair and sunny disposition.
3

KIT Newsletter
In 1922 we moved to a much bigger
house, 21 Fell Brow, which had a long back
garden stretching about fifty yards to the
quarry road along which steam lorries
chuffed with their heavy loads. Billy, our
huge grey cat, went back to Newtown, and
we had to go and look for it. It was sitting on
the upstairs windowsill of the doctors
house. I encouraged it to come down, and it
eventually jumped and landed without hurting itself, to the amazement of an onlooker. It
was whilst on the way there that I discovered how to whistle, a feat which has given
me years of pleasure, but doubtless annoyed
many within hearing.
The long garden allowed us to erect a
thirty feet high holder for the one hundred
feet long radio aerial, the maximum length
allowed. My brother Leonard made coils and
fittings for the crystal receiver on which we
heard our first signals. The coils were made
by winding coated wire over and under the
segments of a circular card which had been
cut every thirty degrees. Two of these could
be placed so that one moved over the other.
They were connected to the crystal, a small
lump of mineral held at one end of a glass
cylinder about four cm long.A short rod with
a tiny brass spring contact at one end, entered the cylinder through a tapped universal joint, and one had to juggle around to
find the best place for the wire to contact the
crystal. Woe betide anyone who knocked
the table then. It was a wonderful achievement to graduate to a valve set, run from
an accumulator, on which we could even listen to Schenectady USA.
About eight yards down the flagged

Mildred Lords memories of

childhood
My earliest memory is of playing by
myself in a big garden with a high wall all
round it. At one end of it was a white cottage. It was called Ivy Cottage. There I
lived with my Mummy, Aunty Ruthy, Uncle John, my Granny and my Grandad
Pickering, and I was Mildred Pickering.
When I was thee years old my father came
from Norway to visit me. Each day he came
to take me for a walk and held my hand. Before he went away he gave me a big silver
coin, a Norwegian Crown, and a small golden
locket (on a chain) in which was a photograph of himself in a bowler hat. These I still
have. When I was three years old a friend of
my Mummy came to Ivy Cottage.A few days
later they went for a holiday together. Aunty
Ruthy came to me one day and said, When
Jack comes back, you shouldnt call him Jack
any more, you must call him Daddy. Soon
I went with my Mummy and my new Daddy
to live at Longridge, near Preston, in Lancashire. They had got married and there they
had rented a house, and were called Mr. and
Mrs. Sharples, so I was Mildred Sharples.

yard was the toilet. It did not flush with water, but was a tippler. The square hole under the seat was closed by the edge of a
sloping basin, which was pivoted in such a
way that when it was full, the contents were
automatically tipped into the sewer which
ran many feet below.
Schooling
School life for me was always happy. I
got into scrapes every now and again, and
received due punishment, sometimes
undeservedly. We went to Ashton on Christmas Sunday. We would all go to the Wellington Road Methodist Chapel in the
evening. My earliest recollection of such a
service is there. A well heated, crowded edifice, the full toned organ leading enthusiastic singing of favourite Christmas hymns,
with a sermon preached by the minister, the
Reverend G. Waddy Polkinghorne! Sunday
school was at times a bit wearisome. We had
the gathering hymn first with a prayer, then
divided into age groups. It depended who
took the lead.
My mothers time seemed to be filled
doing washing, mending, cleaning, cooking
and so forth. She used a scrubbing board
doing the laundry work. The dolly tub was
about thity inches in diameter, and washing
could be agitated in the soapy water by moving the three-legged posser up and down.
Monday was wash day, and dinner, was
quickly prepared using left-overs from Sunday.
We did have concerts, with instrumental playing and singing, and there was the
hilarious sale of produce after the harvest

Vol XIX No 1 January 2007

thanksgiving services, by what was known
as Dutch Auction. Around the 1920/30s we
had trips to places like Morecambe in Mercers chars-a-banc, which, as the name
implies, was rows of seats enclosed at the
side and fixed on a flat motor lorry. There
was no fixed top, but a hood could be drawn
over from the back when it rained.
The driver always wore a smart, white
neb cap, and it was a thrill for us lads when
he checked that all the little passenger doors
were fast, and then went to the front and
swung the engine starting handle. All motors ran on petrol then, and not all had electric starters. The men folk were all smartly
dressed with collars and ties some even
starched; and the ladies had on their best
bib and tucker, the more elderly with huge
round hats decorated with coloured flowers, and long dresses which almost swept
the ground.
In 1928 I got a scholarship for the Harris
Institute Technical College in Preston, where
my brother had studied. I had an allowance
of money to buy books, and a contract to
travel on the bus the seven miles. About that
time there were some eight bus companies
operating through Longridge from all over:
Preston, Blackburn, Clitheroe, Chipping and
Slaidburn. Until 1930 there was a regular train
service which went to Leyland morning and
evening.
Employment
During the school period I was thinking
what I should do for work. I wanted to work
abroad, or as engineer on an ocean liner. But
when it came to the crunch I had to start

He was a designer at a Cotton Mill in and comforted.

When I was ten, in 1920, I won a scholLongridge. Now I had two names, and neiarship at the Harris Institute in Preston. My
ther was my real name.
My Birth Certificate states that I was dad gave me a bicycle as reward. I then went
born on the 5th of March, 1910, at 56 Monton to Balshaws Grammar School in Leyland.
Although only ten miles from
Street, Moss Side, in Hulme,
home my parents never did
District of Chorlton, in the
visit the school as they could
County of Manchester. My
have done on prize-giving day
mothers name was given as
when I won a prize every year.
Marie Johnsrud of the same
Not even when I received my
address, and of no occupamatriculation certificate did
tion. My name was given as
they turn up. My favourite
Mildred Holm Johnsrud. I
subjects were Maths, Science,
learned later that my fathers
English, and French. Evening
surname was Holm, and that
treats were all connected with
he was Norwegian. Probably
the Methodist Sunday School
my Mother was Norwegian
a social evening playing
too. 56 Monton Street was a
games, or a concert. Many of
Nursing Home where Miss
these were arranged by
Sally Pickering was a nurse,
Arthurs father and mother,
possibly the Matron. At the
and I often performed in
time of my birth her younger
them. At one of the early pracsister Hannah Mary
Young Mildred
tices at their home we were
Pickering was staying with
her, who had some experience as a nanny, singing when the door from upstairs was
and it was arranged that she would care for opened by Arthur (supposed to be in bed).
me. I never remember being hugged or loved That, I suppose, was our first meeting.
4

KIT Newsletter
looking for something which would earn
some money. In fact, I left the Tech with a
good certificate, especially in technical drawing. So, on the Monday after leaving the
College in August 1930 I went to the big
creamy-clad service station of Loxhams Garages, met the manager and someone else, and
was told to report for work the next Monday
at a weekly wage of 7/6d (38 new pence). I
never thought they would put me in the cost
office; and when I told folk of my disgust,
they said, You want to stick to it a clean
hands job and at better pay than a trainee
mechanic. England was in a period of national depression with 3 million men unemployed. I was reminded of this every day when
I saw the queue of dejected individuals across
the road, waiting to visit the labour exchange
to draw the dole, which was minimal, and ask
for work. Business got worse. Our governing
director, Ewart Bradshaw, called a meeting of
staff from all depots, and said he would have
to cut our pay by 10% or stop one tenth of
employees.We opted for 10% cut, but it never
happened. It was a pleasant company in which
to work.
Much of my life in Longridge was related
to the Methodist chapel. It was the smallest
religious group in the village of about 4,000
inhabitants. Other groups were the
Congregationalists, the strong Church of England, and a large contingent of Roman Catholics. The RCs form much of the population of
that district. Our family managed to become
accepted in town a little before the twenty
years which was the norm. No doubt fathers
friendly attitude and mothers direct but always helpful approach contributed to this,
because they did not seek popularity. They
were Liberals politically. My father became a
pacifist, while the British Legion had much
influence. My parents rejected all alcoholic
drink, whilst the many pubs were social centres.
I had the pleasure of singing in the chapel
choir under the enthusiastic tutelage of old
Torn Moss; he never quavered and was a great

stimulus. He was the organist, and could make

the organ blower sweat if he opened up the
Rushworth and Dreaper two manual and foot
pedals organ.

Vol XIX No 1 January 2007

unemployed managed, goodness knows. In
due time I got more responsibility with the
final accounting and insurance, and got three
assistants. In those days we got one week

My brother Leonard was doing

well at the mill as designer. I grew up
under the shadow of his success. He
had many certificates for piano playing and taught it. He played at the
local cinema for the black and white
silent movies, and introduced classical music into the sometimes mundane-mood compositions. He taught
me to play, and I started playing the
violin a friend, my dad, Leonard and
myself formed a quartet for concerts.
But I always felt I had to do well,
and acquired something of an inferiority complex.
Quite soon I was moved to central accounts office, to join two others keeping the ledgers with
Burroughs machines. Basically they
were different from modern computers. One fed in information by pressing keys which operated a motor bar,
and everything was printed on an individual card. I enjoyed it: good company, and showrooms with Rolls, Sunbeam and Talbot cars to drool over.
But we overlooked the road under
Fishergate to the Railway Company
stables, and the flies and smell could
be appalling. However, a separate
Company was formed, based on the Service
Station, to become Distributor of Morris vehicles. This was called Loxhams Morriservices
Ltd., and Bill (Jack) Clarkson moved there to
become Company Secretary and I joined him
as Accounts Clerk with better pay. I was given
an ancient Burruoghs machine, converted from
hand operation; but the motor had no cut-out,
so any operation got the full impetus. When
in constant use it actually smoked.
In the mid-30s most folk were short of
cash, even if they had paid work. How the

Mildred: College years

I applied for Goldsmiths College, along
off the Old Kent Road, almost in the middle
with another girl from my class and we were
of the Gasworks.
accepted. Goldsmiths was attached to LonThe majority of the children were very
don University, and I looked forward to seepoor. I was allotted to the top class, thirteen
ing something of London. In early Septemand fourteen year olds about to leave school.
ber off I went. We lived in a hostel, a halfMany came from homes where the mother
hour walk from College.
worked. The Head teacher was very devoted
The College year of 1929 brought new
and seemed to know each child and his or
courses English, Maths, Geography, Muher problems.
sic, Psychology, and Teaching Methods.
An evening Club was kept open until
These included one month school practice
seven oclock, and was mainly attended by
observation of teaching methods, and a
children seven to ten years old. Presumably,
small amount of teaching observed by the
older children had keys and could go home.
teacher of the class to which I was allotted.
When the Club closed I had strict orders at
The children were six and seven year olds
the hostel to go straight into a bath when I
and fairly easy to manage. My second year
arrived, to get rid of any fleas, etc., which I
school practice was spent at a school just
might have picked up.
5

Arthur with his parents 1939

annual holiday in July. My pal and I took the
very reasonable railway run-about tickets
which gave unlimited travel to Coniston and
the lakes, Barrow, Southport, and on one day
Llandudno. Or we went to the Isle of Man
and stayed at Cunninghams Holiday Camp,
riding on the horse-drawn trams, or on the
narrow gauge railway, flirting with the attractive young ladies who also had little
cash. At weekends and during summer evenings we cycled around the countryside, or
went for long trips to places like Ilkley or
Keswick. I got my first bike at a scrap yard,
building it up as necessary.
Becoming interested in wider issues
Around that time I was getting more
and more interested in wider issues, like the
rumblings between European countries, and
in particular the cause of pacifism. The country was really only getting over the 19141918 war. We did not hear so much about
Gallipoli or the Dardanelles, or the Somme
where thousands of soldiers were killed, often leaving widows and young children. But
some writers were concerned about the
growth of the Nazi movement in Germany.
My father joined the Peace Pledge Union,
which rejected war and pledged not to take
part in another. Where did I stand, and why?
Many precious memories come to mind.
One scene which has never left me is of our

KIT Newsletter
family sitting on the seat which used to look
over the Longridge top lodge, one fine
evening as the sun was setting. We sang a
poem of J.G. Whittier to the tune of Rest.
Dear Lord and Father of mankind,
Forgive our foolish ways And it continues:
Drop Thy still dews of quietness,
Till all our strivings cease;
Take from our souls the strain and stress,
And let our ordered lives confess the beauty
of Thy peace.
Breathe through the heat of our desire
Thy coolness and Thy balm;
Let sense be dumb, let flesh retire;
Speak through the earthquake, wind, and
fire,
O still small voice of calm.
I was only a little boy, quietly singing
that song, the meaning of which was perhaps a little obscure at that time, but which
returns again and again when one realises
how ones self concern has hindered the way
of peace and love.
We were associated with the Wesleyan
Methodist chapel; there were other kinds of
Methodists. Other Christian churches, too
Catholics, Church of England, Baptists, etc.
Then there were Muslims, Jews, and often
strife between the lot. I had to hold on to
something true for me, otherwise life had no
purpose. If I believed the basic message of
Jesus, which boiled down to unrestricted
love, even if I had found it through the local
chapel, then that was the way for me. This
message of peace, and rejection of killing,
was a subject of discussion with friends.
Mildred: Taking up teaching
I had a very good report, specially
emphasizing my ability to keep order in
class. In my last term at College I started
applying for Teaching Posts, and obtained
a place at Trawden, near Colne in East Lancashire a cul-de-sac village in the hills
where the population consisted mainly of
cotton weavers and farmers, along with
several people who worked in the neighbouring towns. I found myself digs in the
village, and started at my new post on 1st
August (August Bank Holiday). Strangely
enough this was the day on which Arthur
also started work, as I learned many years
later. I had my 21st birthday during my first
year of teaching, and was allocated to the
baby class for children in their first year.
I taught the beginnings of Reading, Writing, and Arithmetic (the three Rs as in
Reading Riting and Rithmetic an English common term) with lots of stories and
games, in the hall or out-of-doors. In the
Summer we often went for walks up one of
the hills around, and picked wild flowers,

Some of them had fought against the Germans; they were nice people. My father had
gone to register for service during the war,
but his views had changed since then. Our
family became members of the Peace Pledge
Union, founded by Rev. Dick Sheppard, renouncing war and pledging never to take
part in another. Mildred had gone with my
father to their meetings long before I got
actively involved.
As I approached twenty-one years of
age, and after, there were veiled hints at home
about settling down; references to this or
another young woman at chapel. This had
made me wary of getting too friendly with
any of them and there were quite a few,
and a shortage of males. I had flirtations, or
simple friendships with girls from the Preston area. I seemed to find teachers very good
to get on with. In any case I thought over
things very carefully, and decided that marriage was not for me until I was around thity
years old in order to avoid too easily dropping into a permanent relationship. I made
for myself a list of ten points, more or less in
order of importance. The list was a help when,
for instance, my brother suggested that a
certain girl would make a nice homely wife
and she would come into quite a bit of money,
too!

Vol XIX No 1 January 2007

will, should I not stand for it, even if it meant
sacrifice? Of course, my father was very
happy to note the way my thoughts were
turning. He even encouraged me to offer
myself as a trainee preacher just imagine. I
was welcomed, and started studying, and in
due course took charge of some services.
Singing always played a big part, and I tried
to choose hymns a particular congregation
would enjoy; but they had to be as far as
was possible, clear and not wrapped up in
mysticism. I did not like dreary tunes, and so
most of my choices were lively.
Our small family had moved from Fell
Brow to Dilworth Lane because mother
wanted a bungalow which would be easier
to run as she got older, and with an open
view. It was one of the first to be built by
Walter Carefoot, who was trying to establish his own business. We had an enviable
view over the Ribble Valley from Preston almost to Whalley. It was a nice place for their
retirement, with gardens and a long hedge
beloved by the birds.
Really in love at the age of twenty-three

After the family talks and discussions

with friends about war and peace, it became
important for me to find out what sort of
message the Church was giving. If the Christian message was one of peace and good-

At Whitsuntide in 1939, I took my parents to Keswick. I intended spending some

time with a female (teacher) friend. However
she was out walking until teatime, so we took
advantage of the wonderful weather and
drove down Borrowdale, where we parked
and wandered into the field, to sit under a
broad spreading oak tree. After a while, we
noticed another car stop, and two young ladies came across to us. One was Mildred,
the other her friend Mary. They had seen my
car. I cannot recall our conversation, but I
do remember that, as I looked at Mildred I
knew that she was the one I was going to
marry! We all drove round to the other side

learning their names. We also had a small

garden in one corner of the playground in
which the children loved to work. The
school was a demonstration School, where
young teachers came to watch our methods. Imagine my consternation when after
only three weeks I was told that three people were coming to see me give a lesson.
My dad insisted on my contributing
weekly to repay the amount my parents
had contributed towards my College Education. I never knew how much this was
and went on paying for a long time, so that
with that and the cost of my digs and my
travel expenses I was able to save very
little towards holidays.
After four years with the infants I was
asked to transfer to the Junior School to
teach nine-year olds. About the same time
I found myself a bed-sitter in the nearest
town of Colne. This was more expensive,
and I had bus fare each day, though in the
evening during the summer I often walked
over the tops, and I enjoyed this very

much. During my second year there we had

a visit from one of His Majestys Inspectors. He suggested that I apply for a
teaching post in Blackpool, because the
head of the Education Department there
had a policy of employing any teacher who
had been educated at school in Blackpool
after they had experienced at least one
years teaching elsewhere. So I applied and
was accepted as a teacher there at Layton
School, to commence after the Summer recess, September 1936. The first class I
taught was to be prepared for leaving the
Infant School to join the Junior School. To
my astonishment I was expected to take a
Junior choir to the famous Blackpool Festival three weeks after arrival. However
they had an excellent accompanist and had
been very well trained, and we came away
with the First Prize. Music was so important in the Blackpool schools that the first
lesson every morning was always music,
much of it using a large Tonic-sol-fa chart
hung up on the blackboard.

Then it came to me Mildred Sharples.

We met, discussed, and joined forces to promote some very enjoyable evenings, which
I am bound to say were largely organised by
Mildred.

KIT Newsletter
of the lake and stopped by a view point,
which was an opportunity to wander off
alone with Mildred. Oh yes, I was sure all
right, and when we said goodbye I determined to raise the question as soon as we could
be together again. I forgot
all about going to see my
other girl friend.

one stands, there is also a place for the

prompting of the heart. Another chat on
Beacon Fell confirmed things. Just imagine.
Another teacher! Mother and father had

I spoke of my realisation to my parents. I do not

think they could believe
their ears. They loved
Mildred, and we had all
been in one anothers
company a good deal recently. At the same time,
Mildred is six years my
senior, a question which
my father broached. Even
Arthur and his parents with Mildred the day he proposed
so, they wanted me to settle down, and who better? Then, in cool
both been involved with the profession, and
thinking, what was I doing; and what about
were well read as they used to say. They
my ten points and not being tied until was
had interest in all sorts of things Ancient
thirty? Well, the ten points were all right;
Palestine, the Pyramids, Esperanto, the Liband if the person was right, why wait espeeral Party, Teetotalism. They also knew many
cially when she was already thirty?
important people; but we were not well
Without delay I took Mildred out for a off.
run and told her what I thought. Her reMildred and I could show our regard
sponse was negative. I drove the car like a
for each other quite openly. And there was
madman all the way to her home, stopped,
something deeper. This blossoming love,
and we talked until two in the morning.
binding but free, was the same in effect as
The eventual explanation was that she giving ones life to the cause of Christ, bound
had already put the idea out of her mind, and free. So, with the background of increasthinking I would not ask her, and when I did ing problems of hatred between countries,
it was simply too much. I am bound to say we two were in love. What about the People
that, while it is good to consider important in those countries? Did they hate? We
matters very carefully, and to know where guessed not, and we were both clear about
Mildred: Getting involved
The only Christmas celebration we had at
home was to invite some of my dads relatives for a meal, usually on Boxing Day.
Decorations consisted of bits of holly
tucked behind the pictures on the wall. At
one such meal the subject turned to politics, and I expressed an opinion different
from my dads. You keep quiet, he said,
you know nothing about politics. So that
was that. If ever I mentioned something involving knowledge to which he didnt know
the answer his reply was, Ive forgotten
more than you ever learned.
My dad was a trustee of the local Methodist Chapel. I dont know what that involved,
but he didnt attend the service very often.
Nevertheless I decided to become a member after talking to one of the Ministers.
But some months after this the Annual
Methodist Conference was held and their
views were so wishy-washy on vital issues
no lead was given, simply the members
should follow their own consciences so I
resigned, and became simply a Christian of
no particular denomination. About 1936 my

dad bought a car a little Austin 7. I learnt

to drive, and passed the driving test. They
were not as difficult then as they became
in later years. I used the car to go to school
in summer, but during the worst winter
weather I stayed with my aunty Susan in
Blackpool all week and only travelled home
at weekends.
After a Sunday service Arthur told me
he was very concerned that the Sunday
School attendance was dwindling and felt
there should be more to interest the young
people. When we were small we had been
in concerts arranged by his mother and
father, and these had been very much enjoyed. Arthur felt he would like to arrange
such a concert but didnt feel he could do
it alone. Would you help? was his question and I said Yes. So began our association together. I joined the Longridge Golf
Club, and later won the Yearly Ladies
Handicap Cup. Evenings I often spent at
the local Tennis Club of which I was a member, and weekends saw me at the Alston
Riding School with an old school friend.
So I occupied my leisure time.
7

Vol XIX No 1 January 2007

our attitude to war, to killing. We would not
do it or support it.
We had a holiday in Yorkshire during
the summer of 1939. Mildred and her folk
stayed with a Methodist minister uncle in
Billingham, whilst we were visiting an aunt
and cousin in Redcar. I had borrowed a bigger car than mine from the firm so that we
could travel comfortably and enjoy the Yorkshire moors, and I always had the pleasure
of taking Mildred back to Billingham afterwards.
England declared war on Germany
Not long after, ominous rumblings developed into actuality, and the German forces
invaded Poland. There had been preparations
made around the countryside for the purpose of resisting invasion forces, though
there was always the hope that Mr. Chamberlains reference to peace in our time
would not be an empty claim. Looking back,
it seems so futile to think huge factories
could be protected by wrapping barbed wire
around their perimeter fences. Concrete pillboxes were set up at strategic road junctions and river crossings. These had hexagonal, with narrow slits, through which
soldiers could look and shoot. Also, chicanes were built on roadways, with concrete
rollers at the roadside ready to stop up the
narrow entrance of the roadblock. The bus
drivers got quite skilful at negotiating the W
route through the three-pronged chicane.
The first response to the happenings
on the continent that August was to arrange
for a wholesale evacuation of children from
towns and cities which were potential targets for an enemy. Blackpool was one of the
reception areas, and of course teachers were
called upon to escort the youngsters to their
temporary homes with local families. As
Mildred was working at a school in Blackpool, she had to spend the Saturday on that
work, and as I had a vehicle, I went over to
help.
September 3rd, at 11:00 am, there was a
radio broadcast by the Prime Minister announcing that war had been declared on
Germany. This was not completely unexpected, but even so it was a shock. Emergency measures were ready, such as forbidding any light to escape from windows or
doorways, and housewives had to get blackout curtains. Motor vehicles must not display an unshielded light, and as a temporary
expedient newspaper could be used to cover
head and side lamps. There were no
streetlights, and driving was a new hazard.
Food was rationed, and everyone had a book
with little tickets inside which were removed
by the shopkeeper when one bought bread,
butter or sugar, in fact virtually everything.
There was a special book for petrol coupons,
and in some cases additional coupons could
be obtained.

KIT Newsletter
The Territorials were men who carried
on with their ordinary work, but were available for call up into the army in an emergency. They always had a training camp in
the summer, and in 1939 they had the usual
camp, but never got back to their normal
work. Then, the call up of everyone proceeded apace.
Pacifists became less acceptable.
Mildred was not allowed in the school staff
room. She need not have made her views so
obvious; she was not likely to be called up.
But having resigned from membership of the
Methodists, she wanted to have a clear situation. She was finally dismissed on that account. One of my own staff stopped speaking to me, but she left fairly soon to get a
better paid job in the new hush-hush factory west of Cottam.
As conscientious objector on civil duties
When I got my call up papers I had to
make my position clear to the authorities,
and declare as a conscientious objector. This
meant that in due course I would appear before a tribunal under a judge, which would
hear my statement and ask pertinent questions, and then give its decision. I went to
Lancaster Castle before Judge Peel, a dry
old character I had seen in Preston at the
debtors court. He would have no nonsense,
but was always fair. Mildred was in the public gallery to give me moral support. Peel
asked me the irrelevant question as to what
I would do if I saw someone attacking a
woman, to which I gave the illogical answer
to the effect that I would try to protect her.
I received conditional exemption from
duty in the armed services, but must carry
out civilian duties in protective services like
Fire, Ambulance, etc. I joined the St. John
Ambulance Brigade, having duty on Friday
nights. There I met Jack Ellison, a gangling
bus conductor who came late and left early.
The war was in the doldrums as far as England was concerned. After Germany and

Russia had overrun Poland, Hitler tried to

get England to make peace, but the British
Government was not interested. It must have
been May 1940 when things heated up, and
the German troops were assembled across
the Channel, ready to invade England. London was heavily bombed, but the Hurricanes
and Spitfires of the Royal Air Force caused
so much damage to the attackers that the
enterprise was called off. At the same time,
they lost about nine hundred planes, but
Germany lost even more.
During these early months, the Home
Guard was being developed to look after local areas. My chief assistant was practising
with his unit, and fired at his opponent,
who would not drop. Will you be dead or
not? asked Dick. No, I wont, said the
other. Well, answered Dick, Im not playing then. Near the Cotswold Bruderhof,
Arnold Mason and another brother got off
the train, and were halted by Home Guard
officers, who wanted to arrest them, because
Arnold could not produce an Identity Card
(which all were supposed to carry). They were
all perfectly well known to each other, and
Arnold said, Come on, dont be such a
blooming fool. Dads Army was a good
caricature of it.

We had been fortunate to get a house.

It was on Preston Road (now Derby Road),
nearly opposite the Bull Inn and Royal Hotel, as it was called then. Seven shillings a
week rent. We could just about manage, although my pay was less than Mildred had
been earning. There were good prospects
though. Meantime we had a war going on.

Engaged in spring and

married September 1940
It was springtime when Mildred and I
became engaged. I went to Blackpool, where
she was lodging with her aunt, and after a
wonderful walk in the moonlight on the cliffs
overlooking the sea, the ring was placed on
her finger. It was almost beyond belief. We
had a short holiday in the Lake District, and
as Autumn approached, we were married on
18th September 1940. Mildreds uncle Russell
Hall from Appleby conducted the service,
and after the luncheon took us to Windermere where we spent a few lovely days before going on to Appleby to have a few days
there. Uncle Russell could only come if I

War preparations started after a holiday abroad

Mildred: At last I managed to save
enough money to afford a holiday abroad.
With my old College friend Hilda I travelled 1938 to Switzerland. After a wonderful first week listening to English radio
on Friday evening we heard an announcement that Hitler had marched into
Austria, and all teachers holidaying
abroad should return home immediately.
Just the same, Hilda and I got up very early
next morning and caught the train to
Interlaken, on our way to Grindelwald for
the second week of our holiday. What a
glorious week we had in the Swiss mountains, including a trip to the summit of the
Jungfrau, and watching two climbers descending after an unsuccessful attempt to
conquer the North Face of the Eiger. We

Vol XIX No 1 January 2007

could get him coupons for the petrol, which
I did. There had been a bit of trouble concerning who should be invited, and just as
we were going in to chapel, my aunty Kit
from Preston arrived, wearing her huge magenta coloured hat, calling out, You didnt
invite me, but Im here!

also went inside a cave in the Rhone-Glacier. How blue the ice was within. We took
many wonderful photographs, which,
years later disappeared when lent to the
school at Cleeton Court.
When we arrived home, preparations
began to be made for the possible outbreak
of war. Air raid shelters were built. Plans
were made for the evacuation of children
from the big cities to homes in areas where
air raids were less likely. E.g. Manchester
children were to be evacuated to Blackpool. So we had to plan how we could cope
with them in the schools, and the Council
had to find which homes were able to accommodate these children. Gas masks
were issued, and the children were shown
how to use them.
8

Engagement photo - Blackpool

Mildred announced she was going to have
a baby. All in due time our first little girl arrived, to be mummified after every feed by
the careful Mrs. Forrest, who insisted that
babies must be well wrapped up.
We called her Linda Mary Mary after
our bridesmaid and Linda because she was
beautiful I expect. That was 1st July, and I
was having a haircut in Preston when she
was delivered so I would look nice. Mildred
wasnt bothered, but said I should have been
at home. Cant win! At any rate, I was still
living at home, but changes were afoot.
Full time work for the Fire Service
I had to take up regular full time work,
either in the Fire Service or the Police. I opted
for the Fire Service to avoid possible problems with firearms. My boss arranged with
the Commandant for me to have day work in
the office, so I could work nights for the firm.
Regrettably, that wasnt on, and I am glad
because by years end I was transferred to
Carlisle, from where I could only afford to

KIT Newsletter

Engagement and marriage

Mildred: 1939, at Whitsuntide the following year, my friend Mary Bunting and I
went up to Keswick for the weekend. Driving
along the road by Derwentwater we sawArthur
and his mother and father sitting under a tree
by the lake, so we parked the car and went
over to join them. He told me later that was
when he realized he was in love with me. I
must have felt the same about the same time
because I remember telling Mary so. Arthur
and I went for a trip out in the car one evening,
sat on Beacon Fell, and revealed our feelings
to each other. Up to this time my parents had
said what a nice boyArthur was. When I broke
the news that we intended going out together they were not at all pleased. Im afraid
my mother wanted a son-in-law with a good
position She wanted to be proud of me
always the same story, and Im afraid I never
did come up to her expectations.

Vol XIX No 1 January 2007

own class in the usual classroom in the morning, and one of the Manchester teachers used
the room for her class in the afternoon, while I
taught a group of Manchester children in the
Methodist Schoolroom down the road. I was
duly given my notice to finish teaching at the
end of the year, on account of being a conscientious objector.

September brought the outbreak ofWorld

War II, and the evacuation of children from
Manchester to Blackpool. Arthur came with
me the first day and was given the task of
taking children round to the various homes to
which they had been allocated, while I was
trying to help and occupy those who were
waiting their turn to go. What a sad picture young children with their mothers, older children clinging to brothers or sisters, lonely
children - some not caring at all, but many
completely bewildered. A black-out was imposed, windows had to be covered with black
curtains. Our headlights had to be almost
blacked out.
Arthurs mother had her oldest sister
Annie staying with her, recuperating after having broken her leg. She immediately wanted to
get home toWarrington, a journey of 37 miles.
I volunteered to take her there andArthur came
along. It was a nightmare cars suddenly coming into view with just two pricks of light in
front, so little light that we could scarcely pick
out the edge of the curb. One was driving at
not much more than walking pace, and wondering what would happen next.
I arranged to board during the week with
dads sister Susan the following winter. For
my birthday in March Arthur came over for
two days, and we became engaged. It was a
lovely moonlight evening when we went for a
walk along the cliffs at Cleveleys and there he
put the ring on my finger. In due time Arthur
got his call-up papers for the war. He was summoned to a Tribunal at Lancaster Castle, and
was fortunate to obtain exemption as a conscientious objector providing he took up
fulltime work in some occupation such as farmwork, police, fire service, etc. I asked for the
day off in order to attend the Tribunal and had
to give my reason for wanting it. From then on
two of the older staff of my school refused to
allow me in the teachers room for lunch etc.
During this first year of the war I taught my

Wedding Day - Sept 1940

So Arthur and I decided to get married.A
friend of ours had arranged to take her mother
to live with her, and so she offered to let us
have her small house at a reasonable rent. We
asked Uncle Russell to perform the ceremony
which was arranged for September 18th, 1940,
who by then had been appointed to a Methodist Church at Appleby in Cumberland. He
and Aunty Ruthy took us to Windermere
where we had arranged to spend our honeymoon. And after a wonderful few days there,
we went to stay for a weekend with them at
Appleby on our way back to Longridge and
our new home on Derby Road (at that time
Preston Road). We were short of money and
everything was rationed but we were happy.
After a while I was asked to teach English to
the daughter of a family who had been evacuated from Gibraltar. This helped with our finances and I enjoyed it very much.
After some months I realised I was pregnant, and we arranged for Mrs. Forrest to be
with me daily for a month. On July 1st, 1941
when Arthur went back to work after lunch, I
was already having slight pains. When he returned about six oclock a neighbour told him
she had already heard the baby crying. So
Linda Mary was born, called Mary after my
9

friend and bridesmaid, and Linda from a favourite song of Paul Robesons, My little
Lindy-Loo-oo.
Soon, Arthur was drafted into the Fire
Service, still stationed in Preston, but by
Christmas he had been transferred to Carlisle.
Some months later I spent a few days with
Arthur at his digs in Carlisle, while my mother
looked after Linda. She had been a childrens
nurse, was very fond of children and delighted
to be a granny, and have the care of Linda for
short periods, or take her for a walk. We were
still quite poor, and I can remember buying a
sheeps head from time to time to make sure
we got good soups. Rationing was very strict.
I also had to visit the Clinic once a month, as
Linda had what was known as an infantile
cataract in one eye a small white spot which
fortunately never grew, but she still has it.
After a few months at CarlisleArthur was
transferred to Whitehaven, and went to live
with my Aunt Mary and uncle George (my
mothers oldest brother). He could only manage to come home every four or five weeks and then he only had one or two nights at
Longridge. His new digs, however were like
home from home. Aunt Mary invited me to
go for a holiday along with Linda, in the summer of 1943. I knitted her a little bathing costume ready for her first days at the sea, and off
we went. She was only two years old, but she
thoroughly enjoyed the long train journey, and
soon settled down in her new surroundings.
One sunny day we went down to the beach.
Before I could take her hand to go paddling
with her she just ran into the sea and the water
was almost up to her shoulders before I could
catch her.
We were soon expecting another baby,
due in the spring. I rang Arthur to get leave to
come home to look after us. Linda went to
stay with granny, and our first boy was born
in the early hours of 1st April 1944. He was
given the names Norman Anthony. Arthur had
a busy time looking after us both. His mother
also came along and quietly helped wherever
there was a need. She was a dear, Anthony
was a good baby on the whole, and soon grew
to be so long that I couldnt hold him on my
knee to change him.
All this time the war was on of course. I
couldnt bear to listen to the radio. We had few
bombs near us, but could see at night the flashes
in the sky over Liverpool way. One bomb dropped
between us and Whittingham and a crack appeared on the wall going upstairs; nothing worse.
Then the doodle-bugs started coming over occasionally. Folks said, So long as you can hear
them you are all right. But we were lucky to be
far away from real danger. Just before the end of
the war Arthur was moved to Broughton, near
Preston, and so was able to live at home. This
was a great joy. But he was very disillusioned
about the greed and self-seeking in business life,
and had no wish to go back into the rat race
when he was finally discharged from the Fire Service, so what should we do?

KIT Newsletter
travel home every six or seven weeks. Actually, my Secretary at Loxhams had originally
offered to get me in a reserved occupation,
by putting me on the pay roll of an allied
company, which was making small shells for
the armed forces. I could carry on with my
normal job. With a heavy heart I declined,
for he was a good chap with whom to work.
How could I advise the Ministry of Labour
that I was working with a firm making munitions, when I refused to use those things
myself?
At Carlisle, two things were very pleasant. Every Friday, a firewoman driver took
me round the distant fire stations with the
pay for the men; Maryport, Workington,
Whitehaven, Keswick, Penrith. Another interesting job was to go round all the Fire
Stations, and even small depots where fire
fighting equipment was kept, making an inventory of everything to help with the take
over by the National Fire Service of everything owned by the local authorities. However pleasant this may be, one was constantly
reminded of the risks which firemen were facing in the cities like Liverpool, London, Coventry; of the horrors of war in the air, on the
ground, and on the sea.
I had very good digs on Solway Road
with Mrs. Robinson, whose husband drove
a petrol tanker to all sorts of out-of-the-way
places. She gave me a super feather bed so
super that every so often I told her I had
night duty and slept on my desk, just to get
a good nights sleep. These feather beds wrap
themselves all around, the pillows envelop
the head, and yes, they are wonderfully
warm, but phew. I could only afford to go
home about every two months, and usually
got the Inverness to London train, which
was always packed. Compartments were lit
with tiny blue bulbs, and twelve passengers
were quite usual.
In due course, I was transferred to
Whitehaven, doing much the same work, but
on my own. I still had some inventories to
complete, for as far as Millom. There was
not much war activity in Cumberland, although south of the town, at Drigg, was a
huge munitions factory. I had to sleep on
the sub-headquarters premises from time to
time. My office was next to the firemens
dormitory, with a locked connecting door.
The lock did not prevent the invasion of
fleas, which found their way into the pleats
of ones trousers. It was fairly simple to get
rid of the little brown insects by lifting the
hem and going along with a flame, each tiny
wretch giving a little crack as it expired. The
cellar, where the food was kept, was home
for myriads of cockroaches. It was amazing
that no illness developed there. Of course,
the vegetables did not stay around for long,
and much of the other food came out of tins.
My lodgings in Whitehaven were with
an aunt of Mildred, in a house overlooking

the sea, on the cliffs just south of Haig Pit. I

was treated like a long lost son. Uncle
George kept ducks on his big allotment on
the cliffs. When he let them out of their
cabin, they made straight for the pond, and
always fell into a gully they had to cross.
At the end of March 1944 I had a phone
call that Mildred was due to give birth, and
that Mrs. Robinson was ill. I made hasty arrangements for compassionate leave and
travelled to Longridge as quickly as the
trains would allow. Norman was born 1st of
April, and for three weeks I was head cook
and bottle washer, not to mention wet nurse
and housekeeper. That was the first time I
grew a beard. Linda was almost three, and
enjoyed going to her granny, which was a
relief, although she undoubtedly got spoiled
in the process. She was game for anything,
as was seen the previous summer when she
went with her mum to Whitehaven for a holiday, and quite fearlessly walked off the beach
straight into the sea.
The war period had not been easy for
Mildred on her own with little money, food
rationed, and the horror of war ever present,
although not in the calamitous sense of Liverpool and many other heavily bombed areas. My cousin Cissie was in hospital in Liverpool during the early air raids, and when
we travelled to see her we were horrified to
see block after block of warehouses, dwellings, factories, all demolished and lying in
ruins. From Longridge we only had the distant display of exploding bombs and AA
guns.
Rail travel during the war could be chaotic. Everywhere were troops with their huge
haversacks and equipment, struggling to get
into a coach door, struggling to get out,
struggling to turn round once they had got
in, struggling down the corridor if there
was one to find a seat. The trains were
always packed, the engines were ancient
because the best and most reliable ones were
hauling essential freight. A small gradient
could bring a train to a halt while the sweating fireman struggled to raise enough steam
pressure. One driver recounted how they had
struggled to keep one engine going, but had
to give up; it was discovered that a coping
stone from one of the bridges had fallen into
the chimney stack. It was amazing that the
railways kept going as well as they did.
Preparations were made for the Normandy landings, and operational fire fighters were being moved south to follow up the
troops as and when required. This meant that
my work was much reduced. Before long,
the Finance Officer Column Officer Porter
from Broughton came round on a tour of inspection. He already knew me from the time
when I worked in Preston, and in great surprise greeted me with, what are you doing
here? All administrative staff are at
Broughton. I got instructions to move there,
10

Vol XIX No 1 January 2007

and so could live at home. It transpired that
the Area Finance Officer at Kendal had done
a lot of fiddling and in the records I had
been put on operational duties, whilst doing
the same administrative work, no one concerned being advised. This also had meant
that I did not receive the rank my position
carried, and which would have increased my
pay to almost double. So the local operational officers had no authority to transfer
me to the south, and headquarters administration officers did not know of my existence.
What to do after the war?
While I had been away, Mildred had
been giving tuition to the family of an official who had been evacuated from Gibraltar.
She and I had often talked about what to do
after the war, and felt clear that I would not
go back into business; and Mildred wished
to be able to teach in her own fashion, without the constrictions of the local authority. I
had come to feel very strongly that it was
wrong to own private property. The earth
was Gods, and should be held by all for all.
We thought about a private school. Of
course, we would probably have to buy somewhere a contradiction. Anyway, Mildred
had been writing for various publications,
which appeared to be of interest, and was
intrigued by an advert in Peace News referring to the Society of Brothers. Mildred actually thought it was a group of monks.
Eventually a reply came, with pamphlets
about the Bruderhof and about Wheathill
itself. There was also a letter from Jack Ellison,
whom I had met in Preston. That night I was
on call overnight at Broughton, so took with
me part of the information and left the rest
for Mildred to study. When I returned the
next evening, we spent all our time talking
about what we had read. It was unbelievable. We could not settle until, hours after
midnight, we decided that what we had read
described a living expression of just what
we were seeking.
Intermezzo from a KIT reunion 48 years
later
On 17th and 18th April 1993, a crowd of
people met at Lower Bromdon for a reunion
of ex Bruderhofers, especially those having
connections with the Wheathill Bruderhof.
Conversation varied from light, to memories,
to reflections, and on to deeper thoughts
about our attitudes now to community, to
modern living, to current affairs.
All were keen to remember how things
were, where buildings were, the manner of
life we led. Most had left the Bruderhof either of their own accord or under compulsion, in Europe, North or South America. We
had gone our different ways, but some deep
bond keeps pulling us back. Maybe it is the
same urge which drew us together in the first
place, and which found the possibility of expression in the Bruderhof and especially at

KIT Newsletter
Wheathill with the Society of Brothers.
Many who went as children or were born
there, recognize this, and indeed keenly arrange such gatherings.
Mildred and I had a long talk with Carol
Beels Beck, in the course of which she suggested I try to set down my own views of life
at Wheathill. So many things had been said
about it in the past, such as the agriculture
taking precedence over the spirit of community. It is so that for many years after 1961,
publications by the Bruderhof omitted reference to Wheathill, something to which we
repeatedly drew their attention.
I am glad that before Peter Rutherford
died there was a reunion at Darvell giving
expression to the joy in which all contributed at the Wheathill Christian Community.
Sadly, we could not attend. Sadly, too, Robert
Rimes had passed away without experiencing this new recognition of the living spirit
which motivated that growing group in which
he had been so active.
Visiting Wheathill for the first time 1944
As already mentioned, after reading the
different Pamphlets, including the excellent
one on The Wheathill Bruderhof a Christian Community, we decided that if the Community was the practical fulfilment of Christs
words and life which it seemed to be, it was
the way for us right then. We wrote back
stating this, and Charles Headland replied
very cautiously, warning us that it was not
easy, and we must be very careful.
In November 1944 I took my cycle on
the overnight trains to Ludlow, and pedalled
up to Lower Bromdon just before dawn on

the Saturday. The only sign of life was in the

kitchen, which was lit by a single storm lantern, and where a short, burly, black bearded
gnome of a man was stirring a huge pot set
on top of the red-hot stove. It contained very
lumpy porridge. This most amicable person
greeted me with what sounded like a series
of grunts, almost wrenched off my arm, and
offered me a plate of the food he was preparing for everyones breakfast. He was the
night watchman, a Welshman called Norman
Price.
I was then passed on to Owen and Alice
Humphreys who, although only partially
dressed, welcomed me to their rooms above
the hall. Everything seemed dim and damp,
and smelt vaguely of paraffin. Of course it
would when all the lighting and heating was
from that source.
At work time I met the work distributor,
Sidney Hindley, and was posted to the team
which went up to the seven-acre field to sort
out a clamp of potatoes which was rotting.
Rain had commenced, so the brothers provided me with a sack to put over my shoulders. All were bearded, and all were cheerful
in a restrained kind of way; well one couldnt
exactly exude mirth on a damp, cold day, handling sticky potatoes out on an open field. I
do not recall much definite conversation
it was the attitude to the job, the work distributor joining in, everyone more or less ignoring the conditions, which remained with
me as my impression.
It being the weekend, there was time for
discussions, and to look around. Amongst
other things, I remember talking about the
approach to education with Audrey Ann

First contact with the Bruderhof

Mildred: In a copy of Peace News I
saw the interesting offer of a pamphlet
about the Quakers, and in another offering, information about the Society of Brothers. Two weeks later we had a pamphlet, a
booklet-about their group in Paraguay, and
with them a letter from Jack Ellison asking
if Arthur was the man with whom he had
done night duty at the St. John Ambulance in Preston.
The Society of Brothers was not a
group of monks, as I thought, but a group
of families at a farm in Shropshire living
together with all things in common.
What a way to oppose the rat-race. What
a way to bring up children, where the teachers and the parents were working together
to follow the way of Christ. What a contrast to my experiences as a teacher, especially in the last years in Blackpool! When
Arthur came home at tea-time, we talked
about this all the evening, until two oclock
in the morning. What a revelation! What a
possibility! We decided we must go to the

Bruderhof on a visit, to see things for ourselves. We couldnt both go at once of

course, but we wrote asking if this could
be arranged. Arthur went first, and came
back with a real enthusiasm for the brotherliness in the work, and in the life.
It was some time before I could also
go on a visit.Arthur looked after Anthony,
and Linda went to spend a weekend with
granny. I, too was impressed by the atmosphere of brotherliness and sisterliness:
all working together and helping in any
way that was needed. I was particularly
struck by the atmosphere in the childrens
groups the children seemed as much at
home in the kindergarten as they did with
their own parents. There was such an atmosphere of loving caring, and a certain
togetherness. I had several talks as we
worked together, and I was as impressed
as Arthur was. But Arthur was still tied to
the Fire Service. When he was finally released we decided to go as a family and
give the way of life a trial.
11

Vol XIX No 1 January 2007

(Jeffreys). Of course she, like all the women,
was wearing the kopftuch, which did not
strike me as unusual; at almost 1,000 feet up
in the hills it was the most sensible headgear
anyway. Come to think about it, I was quite
used to women wearing scarves over their
heads. My positive impression was such
that Mildred paid a visit which confirmed
that we wanted to go that way. It provided
an answer to our problems, and could conceivably be the answer to the problems of
the world; could be but we were unable to
see that far. For the present we had the problem of getting there.
My service with the NFS (National Fire
Service) was under government control as a
conscientious objector, so in order to go to
Wheathill I had to get permission. The NFS
were quite willing for me to go, providing
the Ministry of Labour would instruct them,
and the Ministry were willing for me to take
up work on the land if the NFS would release
me. This went to and fro, until the local manager for the Ministry of Labour broke the
impasse, and wrote an (unofficial) letter giving the authority to discharge me. We left
behind the confines of war (as fortunate as
we had been) and commenced a new life of
service to what we saw was the call of Christ,
and hence our fellowmen. For three of the
war years, Mildred had been on her own,
with Linda to look after, and also for some
months before my move to Broughton, with
the newly arrived Norman. His call name was
changed to Anthony, his second name, to
avoid confusion with the other Norman
(Price).
We joined Wheathill April 1945
Our respective families were shocked
that we could even think of giving up our
home, to which they had one way or another
contributed only a few years before. We sold
off what we did not want to take with us.
The proceeds, together with our small savings, would be handed to the steward of the
community, after which we would have no
rights or control over it.
We went to Wheathill on the day the
European war ended, Thursday, April 5th,
1945. Things were not lavish, but we had
semolina pudding for the evening meal on
Saturdays. There was porridge for breakfast,
which we collected from the kitchen and ate
in our room. It had been made by the night
watchman in a big aluminium pot on the large
stove, was usually lumpy and sometimes
burnt. Leslie Holland reminded me at the reunion in 1993 that he and I were the two who
made it without lumps. We got milk, but at
first no sugar. Of course, all essential foodstuffs were rationed. This is regarded as a
reason why the health of the British people
was so well maintained during the war. I am
sure we must also thank people like Mary
Cawsey for keeping us healthy at Wheathill.
She organised the kitchen work and used

KIT Newsletter
whatever was available. One of Mildreds
early jobs was going with Doris Chatterton
to gather nettle and dandelion leaves.
Some folk had rooms in the stone
houses, others lived in wooden huts on the
hill. Most heating was from oil heaters, while
a few had coke stoves. Oil was better, because of the instant heat, although the coke
stoves installed later were much more efficient, and could stay in overnight. All oil
appliances could be taken to the pram shed
to be serviced by Jack Ellison. The inconveniences did not worry me, and a chore
which I quickly acquired was to carry the
two big buckets from the mens place and
Arrival in Wheathill April, 1945
Mildred: On Easter Sunday we celebrated Anthonys first birthday on Granny
and Grandads (my parents) lawn. Granny
and Grandad were strongly against our going to Wheathill, and didnt hesitate to tell
us so. I think Grandma and Grandpa
(Arthurs parents) would have liked us not
to go, but felt it was up to us to make our
own decisions bless them! I dearly loved
Grandpa especially I always felt close to
him, and he had meant a lot to me, even
beforeArthur and I came together. Four days
later our whole family moved to Bromdon.
We arrived atWheathill on 5th April 1945
and were soon settled in a nice little room.
After a few days Anthony began to feel at
home in the big baby room and Linda was
already enjoying herself in the kindergarten
each day, so I was able to start helping in
the work. My first task was to work in the
garden weeding the vegetable plots, along
with Doris Chatterton who had arrived with
her family a week or two earlier. A few days
later Stan and Helen Vowles arrived with their
family too, so this was a sudden increase in
the population, particularly in the baby, toddler and kindergarten groups as our children, two each, were all much the same age.
Food was not elaborate, sometimes monotonous, but it was adequate. The childrens
needs were all looked after.
I remember Doris Chatterton and I were
sent out one morning (with gloves on) to
gather young nettles for the soup to be
cooked for dinner. But there was no mistake
in the outgoing love of the people we were
working with and we soon felt this was the
way of life for us, and especially for our children to grow up in. Bickering, quarrelling,
angry words, greed, money making, fighting to get the best for oneself, cheating, were
left behind. Here there was unmistakable
love, a joy in life, giving of ones best for
others, sharing, and much joy in nature, in
the good things of life, in one another. This
was reflected too in the childrens joy, their

empty them onto the end of the long compost heap in the garden, which was just
across the little dingle. They were hoisted
on a wooden yoke, so it was not so difficult.
A good modern sewage system was eventually constructed.

Vol XIX No 1 January 2007

brothers in England as well as in Paraguay,
with the devoted support of sisters who
cheerfully kept going, with the minimum of
equipment, and often when awaiting the arrival of another child.

Remarkable achievements

The installation of a water pump in the

valley to lift water from the borehole to the
concrete tank in the field above Upper
Bromdon was another boon. There had always been water from a spring in the cellar
of Lower Bromdon, in the well of which the
churn of milk from Upper Bromdon dairy was
placed to keep cool overnight. The thick
cream, which had risen by 4:00 am provided
a pleasant perk for the night watchman to

The achievements of the Community

even at that stage were remarkable. The previous farmer had been turned off because
the land was in such a disgraceful state. By
sheer hard graft, the group had got the farm
graded as A, which meant we could remain
there. All in four years. We should never forget the results of hard work by dedicated

feeling of security, their relaxed way of enjoying themselves. Oh, everything wasnt
perfect, but one felt free to talk about things.
Problems were talked over and solved together, giving a different perspective of the
whole and a joy in it. Mealtimes, too, had
meaning, much more meaning than we had
been able to find in church services, where
the words were not always backed up by
the life of the people, particularly their attitude to one another.
I was sent to work in the kindergarten. The
sisters in charge were Barbara Greenyer
and Buddug Evans, and with real love they
soon helped me to find my way into this
new situation and way of life. Linda, who
was nearly five, was also in the kindergarten, full of joy with all her new friends to
play with, while Anthony was in the toddler house which had a nice play area in
front of it.
At midday suitable meals were brought
from the main kitchen to each department,
after which beds and blankets were laid on
the floor and the children slept, or at least
rested, until 3:00pm in the charge of one
person in each department. When the sisters who had had a dinnertime break returned to the departments, vespers was
served, consisting of a fruit drink and sometimes a biscuit. The children then all went to
play, or off for a walk in the care of one of the
sisters. At 5:00pm mothers came to collect
their children and they then had time together as a family until the younger children
went to bed at suppertime. A baby watch
took care of the children of about five families in the evenings, visiting each one from
time to time to see that all was well.
Soon our third baby was on the way.
There was a mother house in a hut near the
dining room to which the mother went for
the birth and about two weeks rest and special care. We all believed that the father
should be present at the birth. When our
baby seemed at last to be on the way, Arthur
was sent for, but the birth in the end was so
quick that he only just got there in time. So
12

now we had another boy and we called him

Stephen. All mothers had six weeks free to
get used to the baby, and our family had
moved into a larger room on the first floor in
the main house. After that Stephen went into
the baby room in the main house during the
day, and I went back to work. At feed times
I went to the baby house. If the weather was
fine I would find him outside the house in
the pram. Stephen was small and very lively.
He was soon standing in his cot, and after
being well tucked up for the night, and apparently asleep, if he heard us ever so quietly go out of the door, he would jump up
and peep over the top rail, giggling. He was
soon crawling and once I was just in time to
find him creeping along the landing to visit
our next neighbour.
When Stephen was eighteen months
old he became ill. Anthony was just recovering from Scarletina and still had a stiff neck.
At first we thought Stephen was suffering
from the same complaint, but four days later
he became much worse and the old doctor
from Ludlow diagnosed meningitis. We telephoned the nearest hospital but they refused to take him in because he had been in
contact withAnthony. Our local doctor took
up the matter and managed to get him into
Wolverhampton Hospital and keep him isolated. Unfortunately he went almost blind,
and was paralysed down one side. He was
moved to a convalescent hospital, but soon
he contracted measles there and died. He
was the first one to be buried in a new burial
ground which had been allocated for this
purpose at the top of the First Bank. [Stephen
Lord was born January 14th, 1946, and died
August 8th, 1947]
Aendel was born in Bridgnorth Hospital about two months after Stephen died, on
2nd October 1947. We had asked to become
Novices with the full intention of becoming
permanent members of the community, and
we had some wonderful inspiring meetings
with Stanley Fletcher, who was then Servant of the Word, as the leader of the spiritual
side of our life was known.

KIT Newsletter
pour on the fresh strawberries when in season! He went on duty at 10:00pm and finished at 6:00am. He signalled his arrival by
singing the first verse of the night watchmans song,
Hrt, ihr Leut, und lasst uns sagen,
unsre Glock hat zehn geschlagen;
zehn Gebote setzt Gott ein,
gib dass wir gehorsam sein.
Then the chorus,
Menschen wachen kann nichts nutzen.
Gott muss wachen, Gott muss schtzen.
Herr, durch Deine Gt und Macht,
gib uns eine gute Nacht.
There is a different verse for each hour
until four oclock.
I always liked that service. I liked singing the hourly song, looking round the stock
and the houses. I also enjoyed the country
nights with the many little sounds, the stars,
and feeling at one with it all. Up there, between Brown Clee and Titterstone there was
no artificial light to be seen, except the very
faint glow from Wolverhampton.
We had a good herd of Red Poll dairy
cattle, and our own bull for breeding. They
were based at Upper Bromdon, and kept in
the stalls in poor weather ready for the morning milking. Before we got the Red Polls one
cow could get herself free, and with her horn
lift the latch of the heavy door.
As to the bull, one afternoon I saw
Hugo [Brinkman] bringing it down the lane.
Hugo had a long pole with a snap catch at
the end to fasten to the ring in the bulls
nose. He had the pole under his arm, and the
bull was following on at the end of it, but its
ring was not connected; Hugo was not aware
of that. The bull followed him right into its
stall, then turned on him and pinned him to
the wall. Fortunately I was there and helped
get him free.
A number of families joined in the spring
of 1945. It was probably a good time to do so,
when nature was entering into that wonderful
period to which one cannot fail to respond.
We had our main meals, and meetings, in the
wooden dining room which stood to the east,
across the road from the cottages at Lower
Bromdon. It had two big doors at the side
which, when the weather was warm and sunny,
could be opened giving that memorable view
over the valley. We would then sing the bright
and hopeful hymns of resurrection, nature
songs, or outdoor wandering songs from the
German Youth Movement, which were translated for newcomers. We often used collections of German hymns, which had been typed
out and clipped together.
The men sat at one side in the dining

room, and the women opposite, at long tables with benches either side. I very soon
got myself involved in setting the tables and
conveying the food from the kitchen when
everyone was ready. Enamel cups, enamel
plates, dessert spoons, but so what? We
were usually hungry after our work, especially if it had been outdoors. All small services were shared out on a regular basis during the week, then on Sunday a special list
was prepared so that those who had been
in, say, the kitchen or kindergarten, could
have a change. Mildred very soon found
herself in the kindergarten. She has happy
memories of working with Barbara [Greenyer]
and Buddug [Evans], and of the help she
received.
A short look at our family
Our third child Stephen was born 1945
in the Mother House under the walnut tree
at the end of the dining room. Eighteen
months later he went to hospital in Wolverhampton with advanced meningitis. His serious condition was pitiful to behold, but we
continued to pray for his recovery. This was
not given; he contracted measles, from which
he mercifully died.
Linda was not yet four years old, and
Anthony just had his first birthday when we
went to Wheathill. About two months after
Stephen died, Aendel was born at Bridgnorth
in October 1947. Esther and Eunice were both
born in February, in 1950 and 1951 respectively. Esther was also born at the Bridgnorth
hospital, but for Eunice Mildred went to
Shrewsbury. The night the ambulance came
to take Mildred to Shrewsbury, it was so
foggy that the driver would go no further
than Bridgnorth, where the matron was quite
upset that a third Lord was not to be born
under her tutelage.
When Esther was born, it was at first
quite a shock to realise that she did not have
her full faculties, but we, and the family accepted her as the gift she was. The community was a tremendous source of support.
When she was only a few days old she became seriously ill, with an extremely high temperature, and suffered a convulsion while
we waited at the hospital for attention. A
hospital sister wondered why we bothered!
However, Esther recovered, and took her
place in the life and departments of the childrens community. It is appropriate at this
stage to note that Esther never got over the
trauma of leaving the complete love with
which she was surrounded, both in England
and in Paraguay, and which stimulated all
school and social activities.
The chaotic crisis 1948
I know that some who were children in
Wheathill have discussed unsavoury happenings which they experienced. It is true
that members did get involved in things
which could not be tolerated by the commu13

Vol XIX No 1 January 2007

nity, and if this was known, appropriate action was taken with a view to overcoming
the underlying difficulty and bringing the
person back into fellowship. As for me, I had
never expected the Society of Brothers (or
Bruderhof) to be a perfect example of Christian living. None of us is perfect, and the
backsliding of any member did not turn the
world upside down. Further, we could not
fail to respond to the warmth and love, which
continued even when there were personal
or brotherhood difficulties of which we sometimes knew nothing.
The time came, however, when we did
become involved in that most chaotic crisis
of 1948. In theory, a Servant was not intended
to control the hof. His work was none the
less demanding, in that it was concerned with
personal problems of all kinds, with relating
the material to the spiritual, with finding the
right message to meet a situation and draw
the group together; and much more. Stanley
Fletcher had this task when we arrived at
Wheathill, and he was a great source of help
and inspiration. He was loved by all who
knew him, and was a true brother. However,
there had been problems in the Brotherhood
which, as novices, we could only sense, and
at that time Stanley was phased out. He lived
for a time in the caravan on the fourth bank,
and eventually went to Primavera.
Llewelyn Harries and his wife Bessie,
with their family, were sent from Primavera
to strengthen the growing English community. It is my belief that, as they came from
the older established community, the brotherhood in England looked up to them to lead,
direct, and show the way. I may be mistaken.
In any case, the conferred or assumed responsibility led to Llewelyns eventual breakdown in health, but not before many people
had been thrown out, or separated from family to live in a huge marquee from which
brothers could still work on the farm.
There had already been signs of a decline from the love we first experienced. Both
our older children were put on their own and
left, in Anthonys case without food, for
doing things about which they knew nothing and could not admit. We were not told.
In each case, Mildred found out and rescued them. She also left those concerned,
Llewelyn and Bessie, in no doubt that she
did not agree with that sort of treatment.
(Anthony was not four years old, and Linda
was six).
Things developed in the Brotherhood,
the nature of which we could not know, but
in the early part of 1948, Mildred and I were
called to a meeting of the much smaller brotherhood group. We could not give the required answers to questions (the source of
which I cannot recall) and we were moved to
Cleeton Court with Aendel, while Linda and
Anthony joined the girls and boys groups
which had been formed at Lower and Upper

KIT Newsletter
Bromdon. They quite enjoyed it. Cleeton
Court residents were a segregated no contact group (like Ibat in 1961), but Mildred
had no hesitation in going to Bromdon to
get essential food and clothing.
I worked alone on the farm, repairing
hedges, under instructions from Tom Paul who
was based at Bromdon. Llewelyn sent for me
to go to Lower Bromdon. Furniture from family rooms had been stacked up on the grass
outside the kitchen, but he wanted to show
me how well they had decorated our room
Crisis, 1948
Mildred: Llewellyn and Bessie Harris
and their family were sent over to
Wheathill from Primavera, to help.
Llewellyn became Servant of the Word, and
Stanley was no longer on the Hof as we
called the place. Bessie took charge of the
baby room, where I was working at this
time. She seemed gradually to change
some of the things, often saying, We do
it this way in Paraguay. Of course, now
there were no more novice meetings, since
Stanley had been sent into exclusion.
One day I went to the kindergarten
and found Anthony was not there. I was
told he had been sent to Llewellyns hut
for telling a lie. He was three years old! I
went to find him there, with a brother he
had had only bread and water for his dinner. I promptly took him by the hand, and
we went off home. I was having none of
that and I told the kindergarten sisters and
Llewellyn so. I waited to be admonished
but no one ever mentioned it again, and
being only a novice I let the affair blow
over.
Soon afterwards Linda didnt come
home after school. I was told she was with
Bessie, and I found Bessie outside an
empty hut on the hill, where Linda had
been placed in the dark and told she was
to sleep alone all night. A schoolboy had
said she had lifted up her clothes and
showed her knickers, which she then, and
always, denied. I took her home and told
Bessie on no account was I going to allow
this. We didnt hear any more about this,
either. We were still only novices, but it
seemed obvious there was trouble somewhere. We just did not know what was
going on, We still wanted to join the life,
and felt everything would be put right in
the end.
Soon Llewellyn decided that it would
be good if all the girls lived together with a
sister in one house, and all the boys with a
brother in another house. The girls were
to live in our house, and we were sent to
Cleeton Court, another farm which the
Bruderhof had bought. So Linda remained
in her own home, with Margot [Brinkman]
in charge, and Anthony went to another
house with Alf Withers in charge. There

he actually leapt around in delight! I was not

impressed.
Paddy Murphy was a paid worker from
Cleeton St. Mary, who carried on just the same,
and supplied cigarettes to the men in the marquee. At Easter time I was going home for
lunch, when he joined me and, of course, gave
me a fag and commented how odd things
were. Then I remember the lovely sound in the
morning sunshine of the church bells as they
tolled out the melody The strife is oer, the
battle won (in tonic: soh-soh-soh-laa-sohAnthony spent his 4th birthday on 1st April
1948. Aendel, being younger, went with us
to Cleeton Court.
At this time we were getting our food
from Upper Bromdon; we were short. I went
there one day and told Llewellyn I must
have some baby food for Aendel. He gave
me a whole tin, some of which Jack Ellison
used to make a lovely rice pudding. Everything was crazy. Brothers and sisters excluded from the brotherhood for various
reasons. Brothers lived in huts or tents,
sisters in Cleeton Court (or were sent away
completely from the community); they were
not allowed to go to Bromdon. I being only
a novice collected all the laundry from
Upper Bromdon, also some food from
Lower Bromdon, and no one seemed to
know what to do about it I went unchallenged. It certainly had its funny side.
One evening I was asked to go to
Bromdon to do baby watch as there was
to be an important meeting and everyone
wanted to be there. It sounded a very noisy
meeting. Suddenly Gladys Mason came
rushing out apparently very upset. I asked
what was the matter. She told me she was
going off the Hof to the nearest telephone
to ask Balz and Guy to return immediately
from Europe. (They were there making arrangements to adopt into the community
twelve German War orphans). So home they
came. The next evening Balz and Guy held
a meeting of brotherhood members at
Cleeton Court, and Arthur and I were asked
to stay there in case any rebel members
tried to come there. But no one came.
Balz and Guy, together with brotherhood members at Cleeton Court, went to
Bromdon, and a full meeting was held
there. The members must have come to a
full agreement and gradually things were
brought back to normal. Brothers and sisters who had gone away returned. We went
back to our house in Bromdon. The children were restored to their families. It became obvious that the whole situation had
become too much for Llewellyn. He had a
complete nervous breakdown, and was in
hospital for quite a time recovering.
About this time Linda was supposed
to have been causing disturbances in the
school. She wasnt always cooperative so
14

Vol XIX No 1 January 2007

soh-fah-mi-soh). This, and Paddys warm
friendship, lifted my spirits. Long after
Wheathill closed, there was always a warm
welcome from him, as from the Pearces.
Someone got a message to the group of
brothers working in Germany in connection
with the adoption of orphaned children. Balz
[Trmpi] and Guy [Johnson] dashed back to
get some sense into the proceedings. Guy
spoke with us, but it was not difficult to see
how wrong the dictatorial situation which had
developed was. In the evening, the outcast
I could well believe it was true. Unfortunately we didnt question this as we
should have done. We were too trusting.
However she lived at Cleeton Court with
Ivy [Carol] for a while. Ivy taught her to
sew with the machine.
Soon preparations were being made
to accept several of the novices into the
Brotherhood, including Arthur and me and
Dorothy Scott. .So we were baptised and
became full members.
On 24th February 1950 Esther was born
at Bridgnorth Hospital. It was rather a shock
to be told she was Mongoloid, and I phoned
Arthur to come over to see me. We talked
things over and of course accepted the situation straight away. Esther was still quite
frail and Daisy Withers came to the hospital
and nursed her in a private room. After a
week there we were able to take her home.
Unfortunately a few days later she had a
very high temperature and was taken to the
Wolverhampton hospital. She recovered in
about a week and when we went to bring
her home the Matron said, I dont know
why you didnt just let her go. What a gift
of love we would have lost if we had acted
so!
We were moved into a room on the
ground floor at Upper Bromdon as I had
to feed Esther every three hours night and
day. In order to do this I had to walk
through to the laundry to get hot water to
warm her bottle. This continued for about
three months. However she gradually improved and was taken into the baby
house.
Soon I was expecting another baby.
This time it was arranged that I should go
to Shrewsbury hospital for the birth. When
the ambulance came to take me there the
fog was so thick that the driver decided
not to go to Shrewsbury but to take me
into Bridgnorth hospital for the night. The
Matron was non too pleased to hear that,
having had two babies born at Bridgnorth,
I was this time going to Shrewsbury for
the birth. However the next day was fine,
and off we went in the ambulance to
Shrewsbury, and there on the 20th of February 1951, four days before Esthers first
birthday, Eunice was born.

KIT Newsletter
brotherhood members went with Balz and Guy
to Lower Bromdon to try and end the miserable business. The confrontation was not
pleasant. As novices we were not there, but
had been left holding the fort in the valley not
knowing what may happen.
The loving spirit returned
In the end, everyone there realised the
false direction which had been taken, and in
due course all who had been thrown out returned to the community; except for one
guest, whose mail, it transpired much
later, had been intercepted by his
mother. It is important to note here
the immediate attempt by the community to rectify things, and the immediate response.

for suggesting that our natural farming life

often presented useful opportunities for introducing the subject in a healthy fashion.
Concerning the attitude to work (which
Carol raised 1993 during a KIT gathering), I
had not been aware that, in connection with
the Wheathill community, it was suggested
that agriculture could be taking precedence
over the spirit of community. Indeed, the
spirit of community so evident in work on
the occasion of my visit was something
which made a deep impression. However,

Vol XIX No 1 January 2007

us, but that He loves to use us. So let us
keep an open mind, and let us be used, even
if it seems a way that we do not want to go.
For me, that sums it up. To superimpose old
ways on new life which is springing and seeking for new answers is not giving strength.
We can never go back, but we can learn from
the past, whilst remaining open for new light.
More from early life at Wheathill

Life at Wheathill was sometimes tough,

but always happily satisfying. I worked quite
a lot on the tractors, but mostly with
an ancient Fordson. It ran on paraffin,
but had to be warmed up on petrol.
Starting was by hand, using a huge
crank. It was hard work, but after a long
time pulling up the handle, and drying
off the plugs a time or two, one had the
The novice circle started again
joy of hearing a faint pff, and beand Mildred and I were duly accepted
fore long she would be going. We
into the brotherhood circle, together
were often in a hurry to get on, which
with others who had waited so long.
is not always a good thing. The fuel
Llewelyn was hospitalized for some
supply at Upper Bromdon was from a
months he had a complete breakpump with a glass container at the top
down. Before we left for Paraguay, I
filled by waggling a wooden lever to
had the pleasure of working with this
Leslie Holland, Arthur & Mildred, Phyllis Welham,
and fro. The contents were then regentle and interesting brother, for
Audrey Ann Jeffries - Upper Bromdon cattle sale 1950 leased down the hose into the tank.
whom everything had obviously
One day I had almost filled up when I realmany years later, a group of brothers in Ibat
been too heavy a burden.
ised that the engine was still running. We
sacrificed Christmas celebrations in order to
did not switch off the engine for short stops,
We found the new Wheathill circle to
get the rice planted in time to ensure a crop.
as it used paraffin, but of course when tankbe lively, displaying the loving spirit we had
They were disciplined later, I believe after
ing up it was a must, especially as the tank
discovered at first, and earnestly seeking to
the brothers in North America and Heini
be led to the right answer to whatever prob- [Arnold] heard about it. What a lack of trust! was over the engine. There was only a pint
more to come, so I let it go; the tank overlems arose not told how it should be done.
But this illustrates the problem a person
flowed, and woosh! Flames all over the
Sometimes the Servant had discussed matfaced when a question arose. It would be
place. Dashed for an extinguisher - wouldnt
ters with Witness Brothers (a small group to
difficult to refute the charge of preferring to
work; next one missing; called Frank [Watts]
help spread the work of the Servant). They
work instead of partaking in communal spirand his wouldnt work, so he dashed to the
may then be the first to speak in a meeting,
itual celebrations; and if one did, it could be
house for one, and finally put out the flames,
and give a lead. I recall that especially sistaken as a lack of openness and humility.
but not before most of the wiring had been
ters took exception to this, and as a result
Either way could lead to some form of church
ruined.
meetings were free and lively. I enjoyed this
discipline. The Hutterites always recognised
time. We were experiencing that life we
the need to work with nature; it is a pity that
We had got a new set of disc harrows,
sensed at the beginning, and to which we
on that occasion we did not emulate them.
and someone took them to the field below
aspired. My typical English reticence would
Silvington Lane to prepare the ground. Now
I feel that some servants had a fear of
prevent me from emulating Manfred Kaisers
this field had been heavily infested with danjoyous exclamation when he came from his change. I remember it being said, at the time
delions, the roots of which had been brought
of crisis in 1961, that we needed to get back
internment Wunderbar! Eldorado!.
up by previous cultivating. The discs
to Eberhard Arnold. Of course, it depends
chopped up the roots, and in due course all
Some personal thoughts
how this is understood. At Wheathill, I was
the bits started to grow. What did we do?
This is not a logical or historical record, concerned about the constant readings from
The whole community went from one end of
and I make no apology for introducing a few Eberhard, from Blumhardt, and others - not
the field to the other and removed every bit
personal thoughts. I have mentioned the that I reject what was represented.
by hand. Thats communal work for you. The
harsh treatment meted out on one occasion
When I was preparing for baptism, I youngsters always thought that we left the
to our own children. Forgiveness has been
asked Hans Meier whether the Community hard jobs for them quite naturally; but nothsought, and it has gladly been given. But
would be able and prepared to make changes ing could be further from the truth. Farm chilonly in recent years have we realised that
if something new was revealed. He assured dren always take part in the work whether it
very much went on in the older community
me this was so. This does not mean being is related to the horses, cows, crops, hens or
of which we knew nothing. Then there was
blown hither and thither by all winds that the fruit, and they were very fortunate to
the attitude to sex. I know that in my generablow, but recognition that Eberhard was not live in such surroundings.
tion the subject was not usually discussed
a prophet whose word was gospel for all time.
We always appreciated the times when
with children it was even taboo! But the
I was interested to read, in Torches the sun shone, when the skies were blue,
early inquisitiveness of youngsters is not
the sinful thing which required the long in- Extinguished that Eberhard once said, If and we could enjoy a picnic with the family
terrogations which I am bound to say were we want to remain spiritually alive, we will by a sparkling stream, or go for a ramble on
passed down by some of the German mem- have to find new solutions for the problems the moor where the wind ensured that we
bers. I often regretted that I did not support that arise each day. We have to be humble did not tarry too long. Friends or families
Reg Chatterton when he was admonished enough to realise that God can work without could take the opportunity of simply enjoy15

KIT Newsletter
ing each others company. Now
and then we would have family
supper, when we took the meal
to our rooms, and could eat it
and use the time freely without
the restriction which the communal mealtime caused. During
the week parents had to leave
the family so as to be in the dining room before 6.30pm. Often
there was a meeting after the
meal. So, the younger children
had to be in bed by about 6:15,
and were then in the care if a
sister who, together with a male
evening watch, looked after their
safety and other needs.

The Kindergarten where Mildred worked for most of the time

Consequently the weekday family times

were not as long as we may have wished.
But work had to be done, and I got home
earlier than had we not been living there.
Mothers were home first. Perhaps the increasing shortage of time was connected
with the increasing size of families. This could
only be avoided if husband and wife restrained the natural physical expression of
their love, other means being excluded. Of
course, this should have been resolved, because sisters had the extra burden to bear.
Crops were good
Farming is hard work, but it is satisfying, especially in the context of an integrated
community. We successfully used a rotation
system and did not always take advantage
of government subsidies because of the disruption they caused. Furthermore, they
sometimes resulted in excess production of
crops. For example, thousands of tons of
potatoes were at one time stacked by
roadsides, all stained purple so as to prevent their use for human consumption; although farmers had been paid to grow them
because of food shortage.

the big drive wheel of the box. Finally the

box was sold because it was felt it kept two
brothers away too long.
Stacking of hay and corn needed careful judgment. If not dry enough, the stack
could heat up and fire; excess drying lost
nutrition. When hay was ready to get in,
horse carts and tractor trailers were all in use.
One cart had huge wheels and long ladders
at each end, so we had special long forks to
load it. Dick Whitty fell from the top one
evening after we had refreshed ourselves
unwisely with lashings of George Onslows
cider! Rabbits ate a lot of grain round the
headlands, but we had a mutually satisfactory arrangement with Cecil Pearce, who
caught enough for a communal meal, plus a
bonus for himself, whilst leaving behind a
number to reproduce. That was before the
scourge of myxomatosis wiped out almost
all the rabbits in Britain. (Cecil and his family
always gave a warm welcome to Bruderhof
people, and which he continued after closure of the community at Cleeton Court.)
Owen Humphreys was the faithful shepherd of a flock of sheep, which had free range
of more than 1,000 acres of moorland up
above Cleeton Court. He and his wife Alice

Vol XIX No 1 January 2007

gained a response which lives on
all these years after the inexplicable disaster which was imposed on
and broke up the English community. Alf [Withers] took on much
of the work with the sheep when
the children arrived, but at shearing and dipping times Owen and
others lent a hand. In some ways,
Cleeton Court was a more gentle
place at which to live, but it involved walking up to Bromdon to
the main work, meals and meetings.
We once discovered the huge fireplace and chimney, down which
Gwynn Evans appeared as Father
Christmas.

After the war officially ended, we were

asked to employ prisoners of war. They were
generally easy to get on with, but one group
were submarine men and were quite unpleasant they even thought Lesley Holland was
a traitor, because he spoke such good German. We requested and got a regular team,
agriculturists from the Baltic States, and
these friendly chaps were no problem.
There was another occasion when we
had to ask the services for help, when the
snow was so thick in the lanes that we had
to dig a way out. We tried to get to the main
road with the milk, but gave up as the path
we had made was filling up behind us. In the
end, some of the churns were buried for over
a week. We tunnelled through to get to
Cleeton Court, and skis were brought into
use to maintain contact with the outside
world.Food for the kindergarten had to be
passed over a bank of snow at the gate. The
sisters then had to melt the iced up door
hinges with a red hot poker, in order to get
the door shut. Of course, it was fun for the
children when snows came. It also brought
tragedy, when young James Paul crashed
into a gate post after sliding down the steep
First Bank field.

Our crops were good. Grain occupied a

lot of time. Ploughing, disking, harrowThe weekly visit to the Bull Ring
ing, sowing growing with its attendant
at Birmingham to sell produce was
hazards, and ripening. Then the binder
very successful. In season our strawwent in and left the bound sheaves on
berries were always sought after, and
the ground. They had then to be
not only by the town dwellers. The
stocked, by standing six sheaves
community children loved them, and
against each other until they were dry
were allowed to pick up to a certain
enough to be carted for storage in barn
distance from the path. A scourge of
or stacks. Then, at a convenient time,
caterpillars wiped out nearly all the
the threshing box would draw up alongcabbages from the surrounding disside, the sheaves would be thrown
trict, but the height kept ours immune,
down, cords cut and the corn fed into
with a corresponding demand.
the top maw of the thresher to separate
the grain, chaff and straw. The grain
In due course, I went to work in
poured out of two outlets under which The 'departure wall' about to leave for ParaguayAugust 1941
the office with Kenneth Greenyer, and
sacks were fastened, and filled alterthen looked after the accounts. This
nately, the straw and chaff being forked or went to live at Cleeton Court as house par- was my forte, so to say, but it was a wrench
shovelled away. We had our own threshing ents to the group of children orphaned by to leave the practical work.
box for a few years, and did contract work the war, who came from Germany. Owen and
Naturally mistakes arose
for local farmers. The box was powered by Alice, who had no children of their own took
our own tractor, from which a long belt these victims of the war to their hearts within
At one time, I went on a journey with
passed round the power-take-off pulley to the context of a loving community. Their love Tom Paul to the north of England, meeting
16

KIT Newsletter
students at Newcastle University, and other
individuals. Tom went to visit relatives, and
I returned home. On the train, I had a strange
feeling that all was not right, and this proved
to be the case. Linda had been presumed to
be involved in some troubles, and it had
seemed best for her to have a time separate
from family and school. We accepted this
with some trepidation. It was a new experience which we would only have condoned
in a trusting community. Linda does not have
a good recollection of it, but she did learn to
use a sewing machine!
Whatever may be recalled about the
community at Wheathill, the basics were to
lead a life of love, which was active through
all activities and relationships. This over simplifies our belief in Christ as leader. Mistakes
arose, lovelessness and downright sin came
in. But how could it be otherwise? We were
not special people; we were ordinary men
and women, subject to the temptations of
everyone else, which found all sorts of ways
to be manifest.
There was one saving factor we had a
common cause in seeking to find the way of
Jesus which He did not specifically define,
but gave His Spirit.
Our family left for Primavera 1952

deck and away from the restriction of the

cabin, we had to climb four or five lots of
steep stairs. We had a playpen with us,
which we set up on deck for the young
ones, and it was an attraction for the many
children who had joined the ship at Lisbon.
Oddly, I cannot recall anything about
the feeding, which is strange because I
nearly always enjoy eating; it is one of
the joys of life. One of the many chores
with which Mildred had to cope was the
washing of clothes, which had to be done
way up in the prow, where the ships oscillations were at their worst. However,
there were periods of respite, when we
enjoyed together the seascape and watch
the flying fishes playing alongside. But
Hans ... ?
We crossed the equator, and after five
days made landfall at Recife in Pernambuco,
Brazil. Hans appeared, and insisted we go
with him for a real coffee somewhere in town.
Hot and dusty we got there, but did not think
it was worth the trouble. The next port of call
was Bahia in San Salvador. Here, we wandered with the family towards the quarter of
the docks to feel the atmosphere. But a
passer by warned us that it would be better
if we went back. We called at Rio de Janeiro
and Sao Paulo. During this part of the trip,

In 1952 we were asked if we would like

to go to Paraguay to join the community at Primavera. We would.
(Much of the following report
emanates from notes written
soon after our return, and from
letters to my parents.) In September we sailed from Southampton
on the Royal Mail ShipAlcantara,
in the stuffy steerage, taking with
us many rolls of wire. The customs had questions about the
wire, but I convinced them they
were needed for the estancia we
were building up. We were to be
accompanied by Hans Meier,
who was supposed to join us
when we docked at the first port
On the ship crossing the Atlantic with friends
of call in France in Cherbourg.
That is a story which must be told under its we first saw the wretched conditions in
which some people lived. We saw tattered
own heading.
shelters built under banana trees, in which
Hans Meier was expected to help us new little lives were brought to face a hard
during the months journey. We hardly ever world. In the thriving cities like Rio, they
saw him! It was a blessing that the weather
were clinging to the steep hillside which
steadily improved as we sailed south, call- sweeps down to the fashionable beach of
ing at Vigo and Lisbon, and then on to Las Copacabana, with its luxury.
Palmas. Hans surfaced into the glorious sunTed Land waited for us at Buenos Aires
shine, and accompanied us along the quay.
Bananas were on sale everywhere, and he
At Montevideo in Uruguay we had time
warned us how to eat them so as to avoid
to visit the new Bruderhof which was being
being ill. (I think he put Aendel off them for
established, and then, after crossing the Rio
years).
de la Plata with the hull scraping the sandy
I do not know how we managed with bottom, docked for the last time with the
our family, comprising Linda eleven, Royal Mail Ship. We were at Buenos Aires,
Anthony eight, Aendel nearly five, Esther after our journey of 7,000 miles and three
two, and Eunice one years old. To get on weeks. There waiting for us was Ted Land,
17

Vol XIX No 1 January 2007

who had travelled from Primavera, 1,000 miles
in the north. He gave us a warm greeting in
the cold pouring rain.
We got a taxi to take us to our hotel, the
San Martin. The fare was terrific. The driver
was unmoved by all protests, pleading that
he had to pay through the nose for his petrol in order to obtain enough to keep running. Under President Peron, finances and
commerce were supposed to be controlled,
but we were to discover that this was far
from complete.
The hotel was reasonably good,
though furnished in a very old fashioned
style. It had an ancient lift, which kept Linda
and Anthony occupied until they were peremptorily told to get out of it. The dining
room was surrounded by mirrors, so despite
being placed in a corner, we could see the
other diners. Many of the female diners were
permanent guests. They appeared wearing
dark apparel, often including magenta in the
odd juxtapositions of colour, and sporting
extraordinary headgear trimmed with manyhued flowers and fruits. Throughout a meal,
these good ladies surveyed us through black
framed lorgnettes the only time I have seen
such things used, except in a film. Just like
Victorian days, I imagine. Of course, we were
a disturbance to their quiet existence. It was
cold and damp, but Ted and I were kept running around to catch the many officials who had to certify our documents. This meant leaving the family
quite a lot.
No one could tell us everything
which was required, nor in which order. For example, we would be told
that a certain signature was required
before we may proceed. The official
concerned would be out. We would
call at the right time, to find that we
should have got a certain stamp affixed, but that office was closed right
then, and we must call later. By that
time the first official had gone home;
and so on, and so on. Finally we had
everything lined up or so we
thought and went to collect our
tickets for the river boat. This was not possible, because we had by then been in the
city for three days, and must get a police
permit to certify our existence, and their
agreement to our departure.
We kept occasional watch on our luggage, which was in the customs shed en
transito, for which reason it did not require
examination. But it had to be sealed, and prepared for movement under guard to the South
Dock from which the river boats sailed. The
tariff was charged by volume, so we had a
list of everything showing the respective
bulk. Of course, that was not enough. Each
piece had to be weighed for the manifest.
We watched this procedure covering the
thirty odd items, and then went with the of-

KIT Newsletter

Vol XIX No 1 January 2007

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ficials to their desk, armed with the necessary details. There was some difficulty because they could not get all the items on one
sheet, and were not sure that it would be in
order to continue over to the next numbered
one. Then, the two officials could not arrive
at the same total weight. We solved this dilemma by doing the adding up for them, although there was some uncertainty as to
whether this was the correct procedure.
Transport through the town to the river
boat was carried out in an open truck. Although we were assured that everything
would be taken care of, we felt we must be
on the spot to make sure. It was just as well!
The truck passed through the gates, turned,
and halted with the rear end some five or six
metres from the side of the dock where our
boat was loading. Nothing happened. When
we asked the driver why the delay, he said
It needs unloading. His instructions were
only to bring the load to the dock, and here
it was; the stevedores, should unload. They
said, Not our job we load from dock to

Books/Articles Currently available:

Cast Out in The World,
by MiriamArnold Holmes
Free From Bondage,
by Nadine Moonje Pleil
Through Streets Broad and Narrow,
by Belinda Manley
Torches Extinguished,
by Bette Bohlken-Zumpe

boat. The purser said the stevedores should

do it. They said it was not his business, and
No! An Uruguayan friend who had joined
us called the naval patrol, who said the stevedores should unload, and disappeared.
The police were just as helpful. The stevedores now made it clear that they may consider unloading on payment of a fee. Under
Peron, tipping had been abolished, witness
many signs to that effect. I did not see why
we should pay, when everyone concurred
that all should be taken care of. However, by
this time the milling circle was making more
and more noise, and out if this shot Ted,
with an impassioned plea on his lips, A
hundred pesos, quick, and dont argue.
Down flew the crates, boxes, cabin trunks,
crash on the dock, where one of them disgorged its contents.

in their natural state and habitat. We also

held up the traffic in a side street. The children had not then seen television, and at
one shop there was a display of sets, tuned
to the local station. We stopped to watch,
and before long were surrounded by a crowd
of gesticulating Latins who milled around
us, patting the golden heads of the four girls,
and yelling admiring cries of, Que lindo, los
rubios, A warm introduction to the engaging if sometimes blatant outgoingness of the
Latin Americans.
To be continued in the next issue

We did manage one afternoon off to go

to the zoo, and enjoyed this one day of sunshine, looking at the many animals and birds
kept there in quite good conditions many
of which we would soon be able to observe

The Joyful Community,

by Benjamin Zablocki
Each$17plus$3U.S./Canada,
$5Overseasmail

KIT Annuals:1989-1990 - $17/$20

Overseas
1991 through 1998 - $25/$30 each,
all in larger type, spiral bound with index.
Open letter To the Hutterian Church,
by SamuelKleinsasser,
with added articles, 85 pages $5/$8
18

Our Broken Relationship With The

Society of Brothers,
by S. Kleinsasser, 16pps $1/$3 each
Out of the Opium Den,
1988-1990by John Stewart
(update of KIT April 95 article) $3/$5