Cherry Rogers recalls antics going to church

I was christened at St. Peter’s Church.  Nana was Church of England but always went to the Methodist with Grandad, so I always went to the Methodist on London Road.  Watson’s shop was next door, across from Towlers Lane, and Mr. and Mrs Watson lived there with their sons Roger and Tony.  Mrs Taylor and Mr and Mrs Brown lived in the cottages behind the chapel and further up Mrs Lambert who had the chip shop on the market place.  The Methodist minister lived at the top and on the left.  Right at the top on the right-hand side was a bungalow where Miss Parrot lived with her sister.  I think the sister went to live there when her husband died.

I went to Chapel and to Sunday school in the afternoon.  From the time I was quite small Dorothy Warren took me, she was my teacher.  Mum took me to her house and when I was a bit older I walked along the Thetford Road by myself to Aunt Alice’s house, as I called Dorothy’s mum.  They lived nearly opposite the chip shop.  When I was older I was made to go in the morning, afternoon and dragged back to chapel in the evening.  I think they wanted me out of the way in the daytime, but I used to get out of it in the morning and go with dad on the motorbike to see Uncle Ted in Sedge Fen and Uncle Jim in Lakenheath.  I remember vividly being quite young but was taken to the evening service, where I fidgeted and stared at flies walking along the window pane, doing anything to not to have to listen.  I loved the hymns and knew the words before I could read them properly.  I used to stand up and sing like fury, even putting the organist off at times.  I have never been able to sing in tune and all the rest of my family are musical.

I used to like the Harvest Festival and the harvest supper, where we had a meal and all the goods were auctioned.  Grandad nearly always bought the harvest loaf in the shape of a large wheatsheaf.  It was horrible really, the bread was always stale and as hard as hell.  I liked the Christmas service where we all had a little bag and hung our collection on the tree, but not so keen on the Sunday School anniversary.  They put a stage over the communion rail and us kids had to sit on it and face the congregation.  I always had to do a recitation, but they wouldn’t let me sing.  They did once and everybody laughed, probably thought I was a stand-up comic I think.  The only good thing about the anniversary was I got a new dress … but flipping brown sandals!

My Grandad was in the choir and sat in front of me, nana and mum.  He sat with Mr and Mrs Deacon, Mrs Goodman, Betty Palmer, Dorothy Warren and Miss Gladys Parrot who lived at the top of Towlers Lane.  She was a very short lady and she used to bounce when she sang, she put her heart and soul into it.  She wore a black hat usually but on festive occasions, like Easter Day and Christmas, she wore a red velvet gathered model.  When I was about eight I always used to stand and wonder if she was wearing knickers, because my mum used to say “Red hat, no drawers!”  I came to the conclusion that she must be.

On several occasions my mum had a fit of laughter in chapel.  She went to the spiritualist meeting once, just to test it out and when they were waiting for the spirit to move she went hysterical and got chucked out.  When she opened her hymn book she had a photo of great-granny Harriet in the pages and if it opened at that page she used to laugh because Harriet was wearing a funny hat.  On one occasion, I don’t know if it was the hat or the fact that the visiting preacher had a set of teeth that clanked a bit, but my mum started to splutter a bit trying to be serious.  We never dare look at her or smile, because it would make her worse.  She started to laugh out loud and nana’s lips twitched a bit and mum thought she would look at Mrs Hunter because she would look serious.  Mrs Hunter smiled back.  That did it.  My Mum got so bad she laid head along the pew and laughed and snorted.  My grandad turned round and said “I say, I say” which made mum worse because when he said that she always chanted “ Icey, Icey” behind him.  I think most of the congregation laughed in the end.  That poor preacher.

After all that, can you believe that when Dorothy Warren married Charlie Wharf and left the Sunday School, I taught the little ones.  I taught them to sing their hymn for the anniversary service, so they were all out of tune.

Photo below – the crowning of the Rose Queen, Methodist Chapel.  Left to right – John Yoman, Jane Adam, don’t know the lady but think it may be Mrs Lindsey from the dairy, Lynette Barton, Joan Mills (Rose Queen), me with brown sandals, Betty Palmer (Jester), small girl Ruth Davies and far right Howard Davies (Page), Rev. Davies’ son and daughter.