The Common- 50 years ago....

 

I am a former resident of Kinson, I left in 1956 when I started a career, first with the Metropolitan Police and latterly in publishing. 
Nowadays when I come back, still referring to it as home, I am amazed when I accompany my mother on a walk with our dogs across the Common.
My memories of the area as a boy and young man are vastly different.
I think my earliest recollection was at the end of the war, probably around 1946, when on a bright summer evening a friend and I, both aged around 6 yrs, were exploring the undergrowth in the area now covered with bungalows. At that time it was a waste of brambles, gorse, and other scrub. We had found a path through the brambles, a faint track, and were exploring when we came face to face with a snake. Probably a grass snake, but it uncoiled from the hollow in the grass where it was taking the late evening sun, and hissed at us. Our reaction was to run, and run we did, two urchins scratched and with torn clothes ran out onto Kinson Road, straight across and down Middle Road where we hid in the bicycle shed.We were convinced that the creature would follow us home and bite us to death. It was a while before we summoned up the nerve to explore that part of the Common again !
My next memory is a painful one indeed. There used to be an entrance to the Common about 50 yards up from Burcombe Road, next to White's house. This area was well covered in gorse bushes, and one afternoon all the neighbourhood kids were enthralled when the lot went on fire.The Winton fire engine arrived, it was an elderly grey painted Fordson, ( ex AFS, I now realize) and the firemen quickly set-up to put out the blaze.
Having read lots of adventure stories borrowed from the library ( at that time in the Old School where the stocks are now), to me this was a forest fire. Once the fire brigade had departed, just before tea time, I went exploring. Of course, the remaining hot ashes and patches of smouldering undergrowth soon burnt through my plimsolls and socks and I was left with some blisters on both feet and ankles.I don't remember them hurting, at the time, but Mum was horrified and having washed them well I was put to bed.Next morning I paid the price for my folly and lost a couple of weeks of the summer holidays until my feet healed up.
Remember this was just around the end of the war, and a large part of the area was down to allotments. Each year we kids used to hang around the allotments after school in the autumn watching a battered elderly Fordson tractor banging away as it turned the ground over harvesting the potatoes which were a main crop on this soil. It was a sign that one was growing up when one of the grown ups threw a small sack at one and invited you to join in the picking up. Once the spuds were gathered the tractor returned this time armed with a plough and turned the ground over. Just over the back from this part of the allotments, a Mr.King used to have a small piggery. Adjoining this was a ruinous building where he boiled up the scraps for their food, fuel was largely what could be gathered from the hedgerows in the form of fallen timber and twigs.Several of us used to collect these and dump them by the door, for him. Our reward was to be allowed to watch the occasional killing of the pigs and subsequent butchering of the unfortunate animals. I am sure that being the bloodthirsty young animals that we were, we enjoyed the activity; even though most of us had nightmares for weeks afterwards !
Entry to the allotments was gained by a path and gate opposite the end of Burcombe Road, opposite what was then Webber's Grocers shop. A little way along this path there was a dip in the ground leading down to the unused part of the Common.This was used by local folk as a dumping ground for all sorts of treasures which we used to convert to our own ends. We even found an abandoned aircraft drop tank once, this was to be converted into a boat to explore the river near Kinson church, but as we could not think of any way to get it there we converted it into a camp, and later to a fort.We made a realistic tower from a pile of old lorry tyres an old dustbin lid formed the roof. The top two tyres were wedged up on old bits of wood, and we could place one member in the tower to defend it with a bow and arrow or catapult. The rest of us took turns at trying to shoot him with an old air rifle, which a returning service dad had given us, Needless to say no-one got hurt, but we went home each night muddy, dirty and tired out.
I had always been interested in things mechanical, most of the family worked at Elliots, the big pottery in Poole Lane and grampy was the foreman.During school holidays he took me under his wing and taught me a lot about machinery. When not at the pottery I tended to tinker at home, and on one trip to the dump found a load of bike bits which had been thrown in. By that time I had an interest in motor cycle trials and often cycled to Matchams to watch the motor cyclists perform. The Common became my trials ground and many and weird were the bikes that were assembled in a bid to pedal up some of the steeper parts.
Several friends joined in and we became more adventurous. Eventually we started long jumping on bikes. We made a path leading down from the cemetery railings to the hedgerow at the bottom, where there was a natural ramp, and some reasonably flat ground, albeit a little marshy which led across to the stream. One pedalled down this slope as fast as possible, hit the ramp at the bottom and literally flew onto the marsh. A poor landing resulted in a tangle of boy and bicycle, and a manful attempt to stem the inevitable flood of tears. A good landing meant risking running into the stream. We became quite good at it,our adventures were only hampered by the frequency with which the back wheels of the bike collapsed under the strain.Another souce of trouble was tyres, they needed to be rock hard, but the discarded ones we got hold of were often patched, and sometimes sewn together with thread filched from Mum's button box where they were splitting around the walls.
We must have been a noisy lot, but no-one seemed to complain, I think we stopped if we saw a funeral at the cemetery. Looking back I hope it was from respect, but if I an honest I think it was probably because we were curious to see the coffin lowered into the grave.
We were always warned about drinking from the stream, so of course we had to taste it. I know now that the water was peaty, but at the time we formed the idea that the taste was from the cemetery, and for a time we shunned the area.
I suppose that there was a lot of natural life on the Common even then, but to be honest, kid like, we never sought it out, to us it was just the place were we played all sorts of games.
We found an old spade one day and resolved straight away to build a camp, a turf hut. A day of intense labour saw a pile of turfs cut and placed to mark the walls. Next morning we compared blisters and decided that we weren't cut out to be savages,so the hut never got any further. An added inducement was that overnight someone had removed our spade from its hiding place under a bramble bush.
It would have been around this time that the old CBB decided to straighten out a bend in Kinson Road, probably because the yellow buses were now using it. The gang used some mechanical tackle including a tricycle like truck with a single tractor wheel at the front and two smaller ones at the back.It was supposed to be a small lorry but the gang regarded it with contempt, " wouldn't pull the skin of a b....y pudding" was the comment. They all arrived at work on it however with their bikes in the tipping body along with them.
After digging out the route a layer of hard core was placed in the trench and then the gang moved onto the Common to harvest a vast amount of ferns. These were made up into bundles and laid next.Some of the gang were POW's and when we asked why this was done we were told it was to give some spring to the road. Finally a layer of hoggin went in and joy of joy the council steam roller arrived to water and roll it in place. At night this was kept, in steam on the corner of Middle Road, all sheeted up. We sat all evening admiring the engine and hoped that we should be allowed to help with unsheeting in the morning and maybe get a ride on the footplate. Many of us were and even allowed to sound the whistle and work the controls. At the same time a settling tank was built into the stream where it ran towards the school It was open all the way then, and in winter often flooded the village. They put in a load of large concrete pipes to carry the flow down from the school under the main road and down towards the church. Presumably the idea was to prevent the pipes being silted up, the tank, which took the form of a pair of small weirs, was cleaned out at regular intervals, so it must have worked. Now instead of our friendly little stream we had a cave like opening. And a bridge to get into the extension built onto the school.
Some fool dumped an old enamel advertising hoarding near the pipe opening one day. A friend and I saw this and the chance was too good to miss.Home, change into old clothes, and back down, it was a struggle but eventually we positioned it over the entrance to the pipe, blocking off the flow almost completely. We went off home to tea, little thinking of the havoc we would wreck. After tea we found that the level at the tank and tunnel entrance had risen alarmingly, and we couldn't remove the sheet. We had been spotted by a Mr. Hoare who lived opposite the school, and of course knew who we were.He threatened us with the police so we took off home and both went to bed pretending to be ill.
Mum tells me that Mr.Hoare called on Dad, but nothing else came of it, so I suppose it was all settled amicably. Now of course you have a lake which can't be set up to flood the village, perhaps as well !
I have lots more memories of a very happy childhood spent in the village but, I feel that this has dragged on far too long as it is. To avoid any embarrassment I have kept all other names out of the episodes, if any of my old school friends read this they may remember the incidents.
May I close by asking a question ?
I am sure that what are now the school playing fields in Poole Lane were once the premises of Throop Cricket Club, run by the Corbin family from Poole Lane. Can any older residents offer an opinion, just to settle the point ?




JOHN( TED) JOLLIFFE.

 

Whisky & Blackberries

Dave and I have been using Kinson Common for approximately 30 years. When we first got our dog Whisky, the children were very small.

In fact, I used it before having Whisky, when our daughter, Elizabeth, was about 6 weeks old, and my Mum and I took her for her first walk over there. Our son, Christopher, used to love to climb the trees, as many other kids have.

We used to go over and have picnics, and before Glenmeadows was built, we went blackberrying. But of course, having a dog gets you walking all over the Common, and enables you to enjoy the wonderful wildlife and the different plants and flowers.

We are so lucky that part of the Common is an S.S.S.I site.We have a lovely stream and waterfall which goes into the pond.

These days the Common is still a lovely place , which is maintained by the Countryside Officers and the " Friends of Kinson Common" who work together with some input from Natural England.

Having a dog also gives you the opportunity to meet other dog owners and their dogs. All this means that we are extremely lucky to have this Common, and we must try and protect it for future generations.

 

Elaine & Dave Ames

 

 

Through my eyes-1958-2002   Back in 1958, Kinson was still a small village and I was a small child aged four.We had just moved from bustling Boscombe with its beach and garden to the quiet countryside of sleepy Kinson. Even then it was changing. The new estates at West Howe were growing fast and many more people were moving here, but Kinson still retained its quaint charm and close community. Most days I would go with my Mother to Kinson or " The Village ", as it was then called, either walking or in my pushchair, meeting up with my cousins who lived in Poole Lane. Each time, we would pass Kinson Common and see it change with the seasons In summer we often saw the farmer in Poole Lane Meadows cutting hay or ploughing the field, even gazed at the big oak trees standing in the distance. I also remember picking blackberries from the bushes that ran along the edge of the Common down Poole Lane. No Addington Clinic was there then, only fields that went down to Kinson and the school. Sometimes, my Dad would sit me on the crossbar of his bicycle and we would ride to Kinson Library, a small hut near the village green. On the way we might stop and watch a cricket match on the school playing fields and many people would stop and watch this idyllic scene. The annual fair was always something we youngsters looked forward to in the summer holidays. We would follow the colourful convoy of lorries and funfair amusements rolling down Poole Lane and watch as they set about putting up all their equipment on Poole Lane Meadows. It was very popular and lasted for many years until the end of the 1970's. In winter, bitter winds blew across the fields making it hard to walk up the hill from Kinson to Durdells Avenue. The late 1960's saw deep snow across the area and Kinson Common, lasting for many months. Although I never played on Kinson Common when I was small, as it was too far away from Holloway Avenue, it was always there in the background as I was growing up. There have been a lot of changes to Kinson and the Common through the years. Kinson is now a lot bigger than a small "Village" and sadly some of its quiet charm and close community have been lost in the fast moving 21st century.Kinson Common still boasts much of the wildlife and flora and fauna of years gone by. I have grown up and moved now, but over forty years on, I still haven't moved far from ite shadow. I am lucky to be able to work with the Friends and Bournemouth Council to keep Kinson Common a place that other young people can enjoy in years to come. JAN BUDDEN.

 

My memories by Linda Moore

I lived in Mount Rd from 1972-88 the Common was never well looked after until The Friends of Kinson Common took over the Common.

Its reform, is a real pleasure to walk through,nicely fenced off areas for animals and wild life , with nicely kept paths and green areas, Everyone should support the work of the Friends of Kinson Common.
I do walk a dog through occasionally,and it is a real pleasure to visit the Common.








This photo of myself taken 47 years ago at 109,Poole Lane showing Kinson Common as heathland all the way to what is now South Kinson Drive.Adders and lizards were plentiful and skylark melody was all around.
Happy Days!

Roy Jolliffe. 15th August 2011

(Worth comparing with the photo at the top of the page which is taken in the same year but from the opposite direction)



Early memories from 1941 to 1947

The common was my play area from 1941 to 1947
and my fiends and I spent most oif our spare time on the common. We saw
much of the wildlife during our visits from what was then known as West
Howe Road, the one road that ran out across the common until the end of
the II world war, when demobed soldiers (builders) started the estates
that now exist. One of my friends slipped into a stream on the common
and was bitten by one of the many Adders that could be seen in those
days. While again playing there we saw a Mosquito plane come over us and
start to break up. We chased after it and saw the smouldering wreckage
or some of it in a gravel pit in Wallisdown. They were happy years for
us, even though there was a war on.


Jim Chenery
6/12/2011