Woods Ware China at the Serving Hatch

As a charity worker myself, it is interesting to read about the many and varied ways that villagers clubbed together to fundraise for a village hall. In 1955, the headmaster of Itchingfield School in Sussex divided the pupils into four houses, pitting them all against each other in a salvage collection contest. From that point on, youngsters were to be found around the Barns Green area collecting waste paper, rags and milk bottle tops. They piled up a staggering two tons worth, raising a not inconsiderable (for those days) £10 towards a new village hall. Other activities planned included a square dance (you don’t hear of those anymore) and a series of Harvest Home suppers. Barns Green Village Hall, built from salvage!   The citizens of Hornby in Lancashire dragged Vera Lynn over from Blackpool to open a June fete and sign cookery books to raise money for their village hall extension fund. They had the foresight to set up a savings club for the fete, which resulted in a

There is a pink balloon stuck to the village hall ceiling, A show of frivolity absorbing the caretaker in thought, A remembrance parade is about to bring a mass of feeling Into the hall where the pink balloon hangs, out of reach, helium wrought. Is the balloon given up, or is a kiddie crying and asking for it back? Will it stay, or sink into the massed solemnity? Should he stick a knife to his broom handle and give it a whack? Is that kind of activity covered by the hall’s indemnity? Should he burst the joyous bubble that shouts freedom To celebrate brithdays as a given right? Or should he let it bob and dangle over cadets to lead them Into remembering all the good reasons not to fight? Sarah Miller Walters

I hope that some of my own poems that I have published on this blog have raised a smile of recognition. But I’m not the first to write poetry inspired by village halls. Back in 1936, the Warwick Advertiser published an article about a Mr Smith, who had written a poem about the village hall at Hatton. This was so well received by friends and family, that he had 401 copies printed, and he sold them for a pound apiece. The profits were divided between the church fund and the working men’s club fund. Hatton Village Hall - the charming inspiration Happily for us, the Warwick Advertiser saw fit to publish Mr Smith’s acrostic: T his grand village hall which can scare be surpassed H as been built by one to remember those passed E ver thoughtful of others, kind friend of us all V ery ready to help and obey duty’s call I n summer or winter, in sunshine or rain L ending a hand without seeking to gain L ooking after the sick and helping the weak A nd a kind cheery s

The village or parish hall really came into its own during World War Two, being put to many uses. Some of the most entertaining contemporary reports in local newspapers focus on the fundraising drives that were held to raise money for a wide range of wartime causes, from hospital funds to Spitfire purchasing. In May 1940, Saighton Village Hall in Cheshire put on a concert in order to raise funds for the local hospital. I would dearly love to nip back in time to witness the following delightful programme: Joan White reprised her famous role as a child evacuee, including a monologue entitled “Mrs Wilkinson-Henn” Jack Reid, the Chester ventriloquist, brought along his two dolls, Tony and Little Sir Echo Donald Davies gave a xylophone recital, while Helen Noble played the accordion and H Brown the banjo-lele Finally, Mr and Mrs Tooth and their friend Mr Prendergast acted out two short sketches Sometimes I think that despite our modern claims to sophistication, we

Report from the Bury Free Press, 1933, illustrating how the theft of a pack of cards took precedence over homelessness. At an occasional court at Bury St Edmunds Police Station on Saturday afternoon, before Mr J Ridley Hooper. Mr J B Clark of no fixed abode, a native of Cardiff, was charged with breaking and entering the Village Hall at Beyton and stealing a pack of playing cards earlier that day. A 14 year old girl stated that at 10.30 that morning, when in the hall, she heard glass being broken at the back. She closed the door and came out, waiting until the arrival of Mr Borley, who was bringing some coal. They went into the hall together, and witness went through into the kitchen, where she saw the prisoner brushing his coat. He went out, saying that he had been sleeping there that night. P.C. Steed, of Rougham, said that at 11.40am he saw the prisoner in Gorse Wood behind a tree, eating some food. After being cautioned, he replied that he was wet, had no over