Dave Jennings born 1930s
My grandfather, George Jennings, known as Jockey Jennings, was in charge of the general stores in Loudwater and his brothers, Peter, Walter and William
were in charge of the general stores in Flackwell Heath. Peter was the butcher and he was always saying he was going to die but he outlived the lot of them.
Walter was in charge of ironmongery and he used to lose his temper a lot and frightened my sister and myself. William was in charge of provisions and he
lived at Norlands Farm. They used to have a little slaughterhouse behind the stores and they killed a lot of their own stuff there.
Geoff Gibson, born 1930s
Jennings had an orchard near where Juniper Hill School is now and there was also a bit that was used as a market garden, where the school playing field is, and
they used to grow the produce to be sold in Jennings Stores. Everything you’d want they had, hardware and groceries. Walt Jennings used to do bike repairs round the back.
Barbara Murfin born 1940s
The Jennings family were quite influential in the village. The Jennings brothers ran Jennings stores. Mr. Peter, was a butcher and had his shop at the War Memorial end of Jennings’ Bros, Flackwell Heath. Mr. Walter did the general provisions, hardware, seeds in season and the petrol, via a hand cranked pump. It was the only petrol pump in the village for a long while till the 1960s when a garage was built in Swains Lane. A small red can stood by the pump a bit like an oil can with a plunger at the top. Red EX. This was added to the car or bike’s tank along with the petrol at a penny (old pence) a shot. There was only one type of petrol then. As you walked into the shop the grocery and bread, were straight in front of you, hardware to the right. If you needed petrol you had to find Mr Walter to serve you. More often than not he was in the little office up two steps behind the hardware counter. Sugar, butter and flour were weighed as you required it. Those days you had to be sure to sift your flour before using it, and it was not to add “air”. Goodness knows how long the flour had been there and what was happily living in it.
Just at child height was a row of 7 lb biscuit tins, metal tins with glass window holes in the lids. Super favorites were the broken biscuits. They were a real lucky dip - you may be lucky enough to get a piece of cream biscuit or, an exception, a piece of chocolate biscuit. The big brown counter was manned by Doreen and Barbara, sisters. They fetched everything you required, weighing and wrapping as they passed the newest gossip along with your goods across the counter.
Behind the hardware counter was a tiny office. Squeezing through the gap between the two counters, at this far end of the provisions counter was the bacon slicer, up a couple of stairs into a dark brown room. Mr Walter would sit behind the desk, I would offer him THE book and some coins, too frightened to say anything, look at my feet while he wrote something, he would smile and say thank you. I could not wait to get outside again, but the cottage rent had been paid for the week.
In spring in front of the hardware counter, would be open wooden barrels of pea, broad bean and runner bean seeds. Lying on top of the seeds in one barrel would be a pint pot in another would be a half pint pot. That was the measure for pulses. You would buy a pint of broad beans, peas or beans, measured by the glass, then tipped into a paper bag.
The butchers shop was quite modern, there was a refrigerated counter for the prepared joints of meat, one end bacon and ham at the other, all mixed together in those days. Often a pig (slaughtered) was hung on the door frame, of a room leading to the back yard making it easy for Mr Peter or Uncle Frank (Townsend) to joint it. I don’t remember who the baker was but bread and a selection of pastries were cooked daily in coal ovens. Apple Turnovers, Lardy Cake, Ice Buns, all those sort of cakes. And of course bread. Bread was bought daily and I woke for many years to the smell of baking bread, wafting down the Common from the bakehouse behind the shop. I don’t remember the name of the baker. He must have been there early, about 4am, to re awaken the coal ovens left from the day before, the fire just bedded down during the week. Plus extra work on a Monday as there was no baking on a Sunday. A large crusty warm wonderfully smelling loaf cost a shilling, 12d or 5p today.
The Village Post Office was within the shop. In the 1950's it was to the rear of the shop, near the doorway to the yard. When modernising the butcher’s section the post office was taken over by the butchers and the Post Office moved to the much brighter, larger, site at the front door the shop, on the road side. The only access was via the shop's front door.
When the Jennings brothers retired is was a Mr Luttman who took over the shop, he was a butcher from High Wycombe. And when he retired Mr Lee took it over. He was a master baker who lived at the bottom of the Common, one up from George Jennings house. George Jennings, another brother, ran the Jennings shop in Loudwater. He lived at Hill Top where the road turns from The Common into Flackwell Heath Golf Club. It was a wonderful red brick and timber cottage in enormous grounds. Inside it was all wonderful oak beams and huge fire places. I’m sure May, his daughter, sold some of the land and orchard so Mr Lee could build his house. Mr Lee’s house was the white house facing Common Road.
