Club Professional Colin Albone Didn’t Have It All His Own Way Thanks To Eric Ferguson And His Mates

Colin Albone is mentioned several times on this site; key words and numbers being – born 42 Whitehouse Court 1954 – left 1960 – sugar loaded toffee – throat – colour blue – his life saved by Mr Pinkney of number 41. There, up to speed.

Colin returned to Ushaw Moor at least twice. On one occasion he hit a classy 50 odd against Ushaw Moor in a semi – final of a cup competition before going on to help his team of that time, South Moor, to beat Esh Winning in the final. However on Tuesday night May 11th 1982 he came up against a determined Ushaw Moor Cricket Club that saw off Colin and his new club Shotley Bridge in the Tom Burn Cup.

It was a 20 over affair which gave Ushaw Moor a better chance of beating Shotley Bridge, of the higher Tyneside Senior League, than they would have had in a 45 over league type game. Colin opened the bowling and continued to bowl throughout. Although he started well by dismissing S Raisbeck [13] Eric Ferguson [1]  and A Reeve [13] cheaply he found trouble in the form of Ushaw Moor skipper D McGrath who hit an aggressive 60 not out, ably supported towards the end by Norman Ferguson [a useful 12 not out].

It is interesting to recall that Colin was an accomplished, stylish batsman and very rarely bowled during his senior career. Why he did so that night is a mystery. Perhaps injuries or unavailability was the cause.

Ushaw Moor innings closed at 121 for 4.

Shotley Bridge? 72/9 with Colin out for a paltry 3, being caught by Eric Ferguson off I Parkinson’s bowling.

Several years later Shotley Bridge came to Ushaw Moor and won a cup-tie by 9 wickets. Sanity restored.

WB

Dangerous Left Winger Tommy Batey

Tom was born in New Brancepeth on the 18th of October 1894. The census address detail looks like 13 Eshwood Street.

By 1911 we find young Tommy at 35 Ushaw Terrace, Ushaw Moor together with his much older brothers Richard, William and Thomas together with sister Grace. They were in the household of his father, widower Thomas, a coke drawer. Brother Richard was a coke drawer like his father, but William was a boiler minder.

As for young  and dangerous winger Tommy he worked as a putter which is just about what you would expect at the age of 16. However his football prowess was beginning to be spotted and soon he was playing for Esh Winning. By May 1913 he moved on to no less than Bristol City. He found the competition tough at City but managed seven appearances and in one game hit the back of the net with a lovely goal.

He soon moved on and became a Canary, that is to say a Norwich City player. Eventually he came back to the Durham area and we find that he passed away in late 1971.

So, have we anyone in the house that can recall him? Has one of our readers shared a pint with elderly Tommy?

WB

Memories of The War Years

I was 6yrs old when war was declared, and as I became older I realised Ushaw Moor had been a very safe place to be, although it did have its moments, like the time a bomb fell in the graveyard I remember and felt it well.

As I was going down the stairs to to our air raid shelter which had been built under the stairs I suddenly felt violent vibrations through my feet, and the house seemed to be moving,very scary. Off course there were other signs of the war, I wonder if there is anyone around now who remembers the soldiers and ATS girls who were billeted in the Memorial Hall, Somehow the word must have got around the army camp that there was always a warm welcome at the Webster house at 48 Temperance Tce, it gave my mum great pleasure to give these soldiers & A T S girls a cosy home to come to for a few hours.

Often at night tucked up in bed I would hear their laughter, while my dad slaved over a hot fire cooking dozens of potato fritters, if I was lucky my dad would bring me one all golden and crisp with salt and vinegar. I also remember the soldiers having drill practice in front of our house.

More Memories & family background – Jean Quigg

Hi, more memories & some family background.

My parents Bill & Ada Webster née Booy (her father was a Dutchman) was married in 1918 at St Luke’s Church by vicar Gerald Wreford Brown my father would have either still been in the army or just demobbed.

At that time my mother was living at 341 Railway St Broompark and my farther at 7 South View Ushaw Moor. My farther became a miner and always worked down the pit with his younger brother my uncle David, both played in the Salvation Army band life was good, but tragedy happened when my father saw his brother killed while working the same seam down the pit, he was only 21yrs my father was so effected by this he never worked again for a number of years.

My mother would say my uncle David had one of the biggest funerals in Ushaw Moor at that time, around 1920 1921 This also effected my eldest brother when he had to find a job, the pit was not for him so he left home to go into service as a Hall Boy to the gentry, he eventually became a typical English butler and was also a survivor of Dunkirk but sadly died too young of cancer at 50yrs. His wife came to our home in Temperance Tce to give birth to their daughter, and nurse Pastfield (is there anyone who remembers her) was the local midwife at the time delivered the baby. She also lived near us in Temp,Tce

Next time the war years xxxxxx

Jean Quigg (née) Webster Sydney Australia

Hi, I am Jean Quigg (née) Webster I now live in Sydney Australia and have been here for 37 yrs, but I still have so many vivid childhood memories of Ushaw Moor I could write a book.

I was born in 1933 at 48 Temperance Tce to Bill & Ada Webster the youngest of 5, my mother was a salvationist so the Salvation Army played a big part in our family life, my mother would don her uniform and go to the Top & Bottom pups every Saturday night to sell the War Cry paper and was always encouraged to sing the old rugged cross in both pubs.

My childhood friend was Phillis Mountain who lived in Walton buildings and I would love to make contact with her or her family. Most of my memories are of the war years and how it effected out lives at school and at home.

Ronald Slater Gibbon [1915 – 1975]

Mr Gibbon was my school headmaster during the period April 1959 to July 1960. Previous to that he was headmaster at Bearpark. My understanding of some of his life events is as follows, but it is subject to correction:

He was born at Lanchester in County Durham on 14/09/1915 and went on to marry Anne Welch in March 1945 which was the very month I was born.

His wife was born in 1916 and passed away in 2004.

His final words to me in 1960 were:

”work hard and play hard.”

Without him I would never have gained a pass in the Northern Counties School Certificate technical drawing examination. I failed the Central and Western paper in the same subject and did not trouble the scorers in doing so!

He drove a big posh looking red car and passed by our house in Whitehouse Court when going to and from the school.

He smoked Peter Stuyvesant cigarettes.

He had a great deal of dignity and impressed me.

We already have a little information on site about Mr Gibbon but more is always welcomed by me!

WB

A Winters Sunday afternoon at John Bells Farm.

Mick, one of my older brothers, worked for a time at John Bells farm on the Esh Winning road just beyond St. Luke’s Church.  My Dad had died a  few years earlier and Mam was left to bring five of us up. And she did an excellent job God Bless her.  Mick would go in for the milking on the Sunday afternoons for a few extra shillings.  (50p).  I used to go along with him to give him a hand.  Hard work as the Byre in Winter had to be cleaned out, fresh straw laid and the cows fed.  This particular afternoon it was freezing cold with a thick frost and threatening snow.  Just the weather to find that the turnip store was empty.  We hitched up a trailer to the little Ferguson tractor and drove to the field where the turnips were still rooted in the soil.  No gloves.   We had to pull them out by hand and then lop the roots off and the leaves with a huge machete  It was bloody freezing.  Dusk was falling very quickly and then light snow.  We both straighted our backs and watched a wall of snow coming down the valley from the direction of Esh Winning blotting everything out as it approached us on the hillside of the field just West of the farm.

It was nature in he raw.  Back to the farm and the welcome warmth and aromatic smell of the Byre.  Chop the turnips in a machine and the feed them to the cows.  There must have been sixteen cows to be hand milked.  Then sterilise all the milking equipment.  Tired but happy at a job well done and home to a Sunday tea with meat pies and an apple tart with jelly and Carnation milk.  Happy memories.  All that work for 50 pence.  My Mam was a great lass for grubbing the five of us.  We never ent short in that Department.   Brian mc.

Aloof Southerners And The North’s Great Unwashed

A mate from the North East thinks the ‘soouth’ has lots of snobby people and of course he is right. It also has lots of polite people that are far from snobby. It takes all sorts and certainly that is what you have in the great London melting pot. You cannot go down Oxford Street expecting people to nod and smile to you like geordies on the way to the club and pub; it’s not realistic is it? An absent smile in Oxford Street does not mean the frowning and tired shopper thinks you are unworthy of their eye.

I was talking to a ‘Surrey person’ today and happened to mention that at least six out of thirteen of my school chums [middle class term used by a snob] had failed to reach 70 years of age. His reply was:

”Well it’s because of what they eat and do up there”.

I asked him what he meant by that but he could not back it up. Well he couldn’t could he? You have supermarkets and salads in the North and your days of lard on bread for breakfast are over.

What I am alluding to here is the astonishing ignorance that can still prevail despite education, travel, newspapers and the local library. It was ever so; in the 19th century too many posh houses were reluctant to take on geordie domestic servants because they were considered to be animals. We are all animals, but you get my drift.

And by the way although that southerner Elizabeth the first seldom took baths she made sure she was welcomed and fed in many posh houses, thus preventing the need for her to spend at her local supermarket. As I say, ignorance is bliss.

A pure and undiluted Ushaw Moor memory will be sent soon. I promise that.

WB