Memories Of Cheriton Cottage Homes & Horn Street School in the late 1930s & 1940s
It all began when I was a child – at the age of 5 years my old mother had me put away in a children’s care home. That was at Cheriton Cottage Homes and the year was 1938.
The matron was Mrs Marsh and the Master was Mr Marsh. I remember being fed but I forgot what they fed us on because food in those days was hard to come by.
I was in Block 2. I never mixed with the rest of the boys and girls; I always kept myself to myself – I was a very shy little boy. We had a seesaw, swings and a roundabout in the playground. We had a gardener named Mr Savage who kept the gardens tidy and just down the road was a house named Benson House which was named after Mr Benson who looked after us. He was a jolly old stick; he always joked about and we had a jolly good laugh. It wasn’t too bad a place as we were well looked after.
We had an ice cream man who used to ride a trades bike with a white top hat! On the front of the bike was a board with the words “Stop Me and Buy One.” He sold ice cream cornets as well as wafers – at 3p each!
I used to go to Horn Street School. The two teachers were Miss Jones and Mrs Jones and the headmaster was Mr Bartter. We had knitting lessons but I never joined in! I never took an interest in it; I could never put my mind to it. There was no education whatsoever, we never learnt anything, not as such.
On 3rd June 1940 all of us children were evacuated down to parts of South Wales. The Mums and Dads watched as their children stepped aboard the train at Folkestone Central railway station, wondering who was going to care for them and how well were they going to be kept.
We all returned home on August 15th 1945 upon victory in Japan. I stayed with my mother and stepfather in Harvey Street, Folkestone and I went to the old Dover Road School from 1945 to 1948. When I left I took a job as a Daily Newspaper Seller in the town centre. Working for Wally Gibbs at the top of New Street I used to go around in a van driven by Bob Baker to deliver the daily newspapers to newsagents. I used to sell “The Star” newspaper just outside Bobbys Snack Bar before I got moved to Red Lion Square, Hythe; and from there to the Romney, Hythe and Dymchurch Light Railway Station. “Topper,” who was in charge of me, said to me one day, “Ronnie, how many have you sold today?” “Four, squire,” I said, and he replied, “Is that all?” The next day he said to me the same thing again but afterwards he said, “That’s good! You did very well.”
And that is the end of my story.
Ron Dutt, 2010
