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Dave Jennings born 1930s
My grandfather, Jockey Jennings, owned Juniper Farm at the top of Juniper Hill and Whitepit Lane, Uncle William owned Norlands Farm and Uncle Peter and Uncle Walter
owned all the ground from the Green Man pub, the land which is now part of Old Kiln Road and along up to Budgens. Uncle Peter had an old shed in the field where
the kiln once was, the kiln had long gone by then but there was a big pit still there, where they used to dig the clay out. Uncle Peter lived in a big house about
where Cherrywood Gardens is now. It joined up with the field at the back. He and his brothers bought three horses from Crystal Palace, from some Australians who
were showing them there. One died coming up Treadaway Hill after arriving by train, another died soon after and was buried under my uncle’s lawn (there was a dip
in the lawn for some time after that), and so they sold the last one before that died as well. The clay pits were later filled in and there are houses built on
top of them now.
Malcolm Ludlow born 1930s
By the old kiln round Sedgmoor was a wood where we’d go shooting. You wouldn’t believe that now would you?
Barbara Murfin nee Sarney born 1940s
Peter Jennings
Mr Peter lived behind where Ashton Opticians, Daisy and Costa Coffee are now (2017).
The house now flattened and the large garden built on. Mr Peter with his brother Walter who lived at the top of the Common in the V between
The Common and Common Road owned and ran Jennings Brothers, in Flackwell Heath. Mr Peter was the Butcher. Mr Walter, he was provisions,
the ironmonger and petrol pump man. The brothers, or their wives, had been to an Ideal Home exhibition in London; they each had the same house built for themselves. I thought just the one at the top of the Common remained, but I see that's gone too (Google Maps). They were very attractive to look at
houses but not very practical to live in. Mr Peter soon enlarged his. Mr Walter did not.
Mr Peter Jennings was quite a large part in our young lives. Mr Peter lived in a house with a great deal of land behind, what was then Wilkes stores, and now Ashton Opticians. You went down the alleyway by Ena Cottage. There was no need for a driveway as the car was kept elsewhere. The garden was enormous. He had a large fruit garden. We picked the fruit and Mum jammed or bottled it, our payment being a lot of the produce. There was only Mr Peter and his very frail wife living at the house. He had a wonderful cherry tree, a Napoleon White Heart. The cherries were huge, nearly the size of a 2p piece. Cut them in half and the fruit, plum red on the outside, was white at its heart and sweet and juicy. Dad picked those with the help of a cherry ladder. These old wooden rung ladders had a splay of about 3 to 4 feet at the bottom but 9 inches at the top to get into the small branches and were a good 20 foot tall. An old gnarled, every which way, Brambly Apple was in the little lawn between the kitchen and the back gate.
On the other side of the gate there was quite a sizable field. For a few years I remember a solid old black horse in residence. He was the old delivery horse from the shop. His name was Blackie. Peter also had a terrier dog, a brown one called Brownun. A man of few words Mr P. v
The other side of the house, the Cherrywood Gardens side, there was a huge lawn and flower garden. Dad mowed the lawns for Mr Peter. Later for pocket money brother David took his turn. It was a petrol mower but a walking one. No sit-on one in those days. It would have taken a good while. In the far corner of the garden was a dip in the ground, Mr Peter had his favorite Hunter buried under the lawn. I wonder if they found the bones when building the “new” houses.
The piece of land on the other side of the high hedge was sold for building. Cherrywood Gardens was built joining on to Hedley Road. Blackie’s field is now Kiln Road and the car park, behind the ‘new’ shops.
At the bottom of the horse’s field, on the roadside on Straight Bit, was a fence, then a hedge, then the road. Between the fence and hedge was a wooden barn and a wooden garage. In the garage was Mr Peter's pride and joy, a Vauxhall Victor of a greeny-blue colour when 99% of cars were black at that time. It had been registered in Maidenhead and had the number plate OMO 41. Omo being a popular washing powder at the time. Tide was another, ‘Tide’s in Dirts out’, so we were told. A lot of washing was still done either by hand or in a boiler. The council houses at Heath End were built with brick boilers in the corner of the outhouse attached to the kitchen. A brick structure, a metal bowl on the top and a coal fire under for the heat. Washing was then put through the mangle before drying on the line. Mangles and tin baths a regular sight outside kitchen doors.
In the barn behind the garage Mr Peter rented spaces for other people to keep their cars there. Dad kept the old Matchless and sidecar there. Dressed in his WW2 tank suit it was no problem in wet weather to go and fetch it for work. Eventually Dad got a little Bantam motor bike kept at home just for work. Later when brother David had a car (1968 /69 ish) he also parked it at Mr Peter's.
The entrance to the garage from the road was almost opposite the Cherry Tree pub. Just along from the Green Man. At the garage entrance there was, as you turned in the gateway, no gate, but in front of you was a gate to Blackie’s Field. To your left was the garage. If you went through Blackie’s gate and across the field you came to Kiln Wood. A piece of land full of deep holes and pine trees. I was said much of the clay for the cottages on the Common was dug from Kiln Wood. Now Flackwell Heath sits on chalk and flint, sooooo, not too sure of that unless there was an odd patch of clay, they were very deep holes. Just before getting to the wood, to your right was the apple and pear orchard. Old gnarled apple and pear trees. Now Old Kiln Road.
Between the Green Man and the entrance to the garage was a small cottage with a very long front garden. This was knocked down so Mr Simmons, I think his name was, could build himself a modern bungalow. Mr Simmons was at one time the butcher at what had been Jennings Bros, later owned by Mr Luttman. A Mr Hullett was also a butcher there but it was his own shop by then, it had been disconnected from Jennings Bros and had its own customer door.
Sometime in August Mr Peter and Dad would spend a whole Sunday morning walking around Kiln Wood, deciding which tree to fell ready for winter. The chosen tree was then felled with a two man saw, Dad and Mr Peter working each end, but in later years a chain saw was used. The branches were cut up. My brother and I would stack the logs out of the way. The large trunk pieces (pine trees were tall but not huge in circumference) were split with an axe. Weekends were spent with a heavy wooden barrow, with extended sides which made the barrow twice as deep, wheeling the spoils to Mr Peter's out house or the wood store at Virginia Cottage. That was our winter sorted.
Once the wood for winter was secured it was apple picking time. Worcester Pearmains, a lovely keeping apple with a rough skin, plus one or two other varieties were picked. The Pearmains, although a bit wrinkled by spring, were still juicy and tasted wonderful. I loved the apples, and the trees were so full I could help by picking, and eating, the lower ones. Laid low with a very bad tummy ache I was told not to PICK and eat any more apples for a while, so the next time I ate them I left the core hanging on the tree. If you were going to get a telling off by Dad, make him laugh first, then he was unable to tell you off. I got a laugh for my efforts and the tummy ache was soon gone.
When Mrs Jennings’ died, Mr Peter was quite lonely I think. He would come to us for Sunday Dinner (lunch). “What do you think of this piece of beef Barbara?” (to my mother) it would be the size of a leg of lamb, “cost me half a crown” (12 and a half pence today), “ it had better be good.” Dinner finished and washing up done we would pile outside and into Mr Peter's car for a ride out. Winter time was more demanding, rugs and hot water bottles were needed. There was no heating in the car. We would venture out just anywhere but usually ending up in Thame at the Copper Kettle for afternoon tea. Eating tea outside, if fine, in the summer time. Maidenhead, Boulters Lock and Cookham were other favourites.
My brother and I could also earn ourselves a 6d. Every night after school we would take turns to go for Mr Peter's shopping list, bread, ham, bits and bobs. Shop for the requested items and take the goods to him. A nice little earner. People shopped daily then. He could have popped around the corner to Wilkes Stores, but he did not care for that idea.
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