Post by jo on Dec 24, 2020 14:51:51 GMT
Karen Whitby
tSpso2rlaS4n nJrsoulredyg ·
My Basildon Family Beginnings.
From the bombed-out Victorian slums of the East End of London, my parents and older brother arrived in Basildon on the back of a horse and cart with their belongings in 1956.
My dad working for Fords, had viewed a house in Falkenham path, but on arrival was shown to a brand-new house on Whitmore Way, accessed over a running stream by 2 planks of wood.
My Mum thought she had been given the keys to Buckingham Palace, having previously shared a toilet with 5 other families, and could never be persuaded to ever move.
She settled to the ‘New town’ life very quickly, having become frayed and tired from the cramped conditions in London. Many women suffered from the ‘New Town Blues’ and couldn’t take to the slower pace of life and felt isolated. Not my Mum, who blossomed. Walking to Stacey’s corner, Pitsea, and the temporary Woolworth shop that was parked where the town centre was eventually built.
I arrived in 1958, born in Billericay hospital, during a snowstorm. My Dad had to walk half the way home, stopping at the Fortune of War pub, buying everyone there a drink!
MY brother likened our childhood to Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer. It was a great time to be a kid, so much open space to have adventures and experience the country style life. Our street was populated with similar families and we were lucky to make lifelong friends with our neighbours. A proper neighbourhood. We had parties in the church hall, coach trips and outings organised by our parents. One of my earliest memories, was sitting on my dads’ shoulders at the top of Stanway, scrumping apples for our Sunday lunch and looking over Lee chapel North and there being nothing there but woodland. We’d been up to Langdon Hills to pick my mum some blue bells, (we must have picked up some bulbs too, because every springtime, their garden is covered in them. Shh, I know it’s illegal now!)
As Basildon evolved, it became a great little town, factories, shops, pubs, clubs, schools,parks and eventually the hospital and train station, with all the infrastructure in place.
Basildon Development Council looked out for the town and what it represented, which was a reprieve for inner city people to be given a chance to live in a place of fresh air, space and a time to grow. They operated a 2nd generation housing offer, in which children of the original ‘colonists’ could go on a waiting list and were offered a place to live, roughly 2-4 months after we were married! It was trying to give people a chance of a healthy life, which, back then, wasn’t talked bout, but included mental health.
Unfortunately, as is the way of things, ‘progress’ and the ravages of 1980’s materialism, changed our world, and all that was built up in our world of ‘New Town Opportunity’, was slowly dismantled.
The original planners and our Parents would be horrified at the latest shenanigans to have plans passed for high rise flats; it is the antipathy of what Basildon was meant for.
Our parents took the risk to come to a New Town to raise their children in a new and healthy affordable way. That vision is no longer available to our children’s children. It seems their future lies in our parent’s past of the overcrowded cities, and of course the nonsense of building ‘affordable housing’ is an obscene farce. Who can afford these properties?
The Gentrification of Basildon Town centre is probably a good thing and will hopefully bring life to our dying shopping centres. I’m all for progress, But, High Rise flats? That is just insulting to the memory of the Basildon ‘Ideal’ and Plan.
So, Basildon has given many people my age and our parents, a great start and some even better memories with many characters who will never be forgotten. The ‘Past Basildon’ was extremely sociable and neighbourly, and I miss those times, but I’m excited to see what happens in ‘Future Basildon’.
( These are just my opinions and memories of growing-up here)
tSpso2rlaS4n nJrsoulredyg ·
My Basildon Family Beginnings.
From the bombed-out Victorian slums of the East End of London, my parents and older brother arrived in Basildon on the back of a horse and cart with their belongings in 1956.
My dad working for Fords, had viewed a house in Falkenham path, but on arrival was shown to a brand-new house on Whitmore Way, accessed over a running stream by 2 planks of wood.
My Mum thought she had been given the keys to Buckingham Palace, having previously shared a toilet with 5 other families, and could never be persuaded to ever move.
She settled to the ‘New town’ life very quickly, having become frayed and tired from the cramped conditions in London. Many women suffered from the ‘New Town Blues’ and couldn’t take to the slower pace of life and felt isolated. Not my Mum, who blossomed. Walking to Stacey’s corner, Pitsea, and the temporary Woolworth shop that was parked where the town centre was eventually built.
I arrived in 1958, born in Billericay hospital, during a snowstorm. My Dad had to walk half the way home, stopping at the Fortune of War pub, buying everyone there a drink!
MY brother likened our childhood to Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer. It was a great time to be a kid, so much open space to have adventures and experience the country style life. Our street was populated with similar families and we were lucky to make lifelong friends with our neighbours. A proper neighbourhood. We had parties in the church hall, coach trips and outings organised by our parents. One of my earliest memories, was sitting on my dads’ shoulders at the top of Stanway, scrumping apples for our Sunday lunch and looking over Lee chapel North and there being nothing there but woodland. We’d been up to Langdon Hills to pick my mum some blue bells, (we must have picked up some bulbs too, because every springtime, their garden is covered in them. Shh, I know it’s illegal now!)
As Basildon evolved, it became a great little town, factories, shops, pubs, clubs, schools,parks and eventually the hospital and train station, with all the infrastructure in place.
Basildon Development Council looked out for the town and what it represented, which was a reprieve for inner city people to be given a chance to live in a place of fresh air, space and a time to grow. They operated a 2nd generation housing offer, in which children of the original ‘colonists’ could go on a waiting list and were offered a place to live, roughly 2-4 months after we were married! It was trying to give people a chance of a healthy life, which, back then, wasn’t talked bout, but included mental health.
Unfortunately, as is the way of things, ‘progress’ and the ravages of 1980’s materialism, changed our world, and all that was built up in our world of ‘New Town Opportunity’, was slowly dismantled.
The original planners and our Parents would be horrified at the latest shenanigans to have plans passed for high rise flats; it is the antipathy of what Basildon was meant for.
Our parents took the risk to come to a New Town to raise their children in a new and healthy affordable way. That vision is no longer available to our children’s children. It seems their future lies in our parent’s past of the overcrowded cities, and of course the nonsense of building ‘affordable housing’ is an obscene farce. Who can afford these properties?
The Gentrification of Basildon Town centre is probably a good thing and will hopefully bring life to our dying shopping centres. I’m all for progress, But, High Rise flats? That is just insulting to the memory of the Basildon ‘Ideal’ and Plan.
So, Basildon has given many people my age and our parents, a great start and some even better memories with many characters who will never be forgotten. The ‘Past Basildon’ was extremely sociable and neighbourly, and I miss those times, but I’m excited to see what happens in ‘Future Basildon’.
( These are just my opinions and memories of growing-up here)