Thrybergh Ravenfield Dalton

South Yorkshire England

            Pronounced locally Thrybur  Old English Triberg

Webmaster John Doxey

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Thrybergh Folk
Folk pre 15th Century
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James Ross
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James Ross Poems
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Stephen Pursehouse
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Beeden's The Builders
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Roy Nixon
Thrybergh Players
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Wheatcroft and Bisby
Rogers Family
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Geoff Walker
James Walker
George Hardy
John Doxey's Memories
John Doxey's Memories pg 2


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Guest Book pg 3




Silverwood Mine

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By John Doxey


'A time when you could go out at night and not worry about locking the door'
[OK we didn't have anything worth pinching anyway]


Your webmasterJohn Doxey 2004 [  I had my hair died grey to contrast with the tee shirt, HONEST! ]


Like most people I have very fond memories of the place I grew up in, and whilst producing this website a lot of those memories came flooding back. So below are my light-hearted recollections of that time, a time when you used to run when you saw a policeman approach. Grownups were treated with respect, or you got a belt round the ears. Coming from a broken home was not a valid excuse for doing something wrong, in fact there was no excuses. You got caught, you got punished and then you got smarter [ Well most of us anyway ].
Despite what may be considered a pretty wild childhood most of us grew up with sound commonsense, and needless to say most people I have corresponded with have very fond memories of those times.




For the first few years of my life I lived "Dahn't Backs" [ Down the Back Street's ] in School Street , Thrybergh. The house's were in terraced rows comprising of "two rooms up and two rooms down" with a usable attic. So the downstairs back room was the kitchen, dining room, and general living area, and the downstairs front room was usually reserved for when you had guest to entertain. The two upper rooms and attic were used as bedrooms. The front Gardens were tiny little strips between the house and pavement, and the back yards were shared with one neighbour. the yards were asphalt with brick walls dividing the yards. I have a few early memories of School Street, mostly about the back steps to the house. I tested them for hardness a few times, and came to the conclusion that stepping down them one at a time was far less painful than bouncing off them all in one go.


At the bottom of the yards were the toilet and coal house. Who could forget those outside toilets on a winters morning, EEE' them wooden toilet seats were welcome back then. The ceramic kitchen sink was often used as a bathtub for the kids.

I can just about remember the Hawker who used to come around selling fruit and Veg. [ I think it was Stan Naylor or Mr. Lilley from Lilley's farm on Vale road.

We moved to the new Gullingwood estate in 1953, which was off Vale Road. For the first time we enjoyed the luxury of an inside toilet, and a proper Bathroom. We were lucky in the position of the house, we had four shops across the road and a village green outside the house, perfect for football, cricket, and any other game. Our new neighbour's were really good people, and we soon made lots of friends.


Terry Piper, Harry Cawdron, Michael Painter, Michael Green, and a cast of thousands we had some great times back then.

We would disappear on Saturday morning after breakfast, sometimes taking a bottle of water with us, perhaps a bread and Jam sandwich, and we would return home in time for Tea [ Evening Dinner ].

What about bread and dripping sandwiches how good were they with a bit of salt on. I was telling my son about this delicacy and told him what it was, and he replied "Bread and Dripping! How can you eat that?" Which inspired me to write this little poem.


By John Doxey

Whats tha got fa thi snap today then,
Bread n dripping how can tha eat that,
Al tell thi young un n then tha'll know,
Whats so special baht this bread n fat,

When families wa poor n eat what they could,
Nothing was wasted like they do today,
Bread n dripping wi a bit a salt,
Kept a family fed wiaght aving ta pay,

So juices from 't' meat are left to set,
Brown on't' bottom white on 't' top,
Dun't look much al gi thi that,
But it taste better than owt from 't'shop.

Nah tha mignt scoff n ave a laugh,
Baht what I'm aving on me bread,
But if tha thinks what thas got is better,
Then tha not reight int head,

While tha eatin' thi processed meat,
Wi no goodness or taste that I know on,,
Am eatin' a Sunday Roast on bread,
Nah tha can't beat that, can tha owd son.




Sometimes on a Saturday morning we would listen to Uncle Macs Favourite's a request show for children which aired at 9 a.m. on the wireless [ Radio for you young uns ] . Yes I can remember Torchy the battery boy, Run Rabbit , The Runaway Train, The Laughing Policeman, and Lonnie Donnegan. On a Saturday night my brother Peter would tune in the old Wireless to the American Forces Network and we would listen to Country Music from the Grand ole Opry in Tennessee.

Back then we played Cowboys and Indians and would head for the nearby woods and fight many an imaginary battle. I often laugh at the memory of us running round riding imaginary horses, holding imaginary reins, and slapping our backsides to make the imaginary horse run faster. We shot more Indians than the Seventh Cavalry did on the Movies. But its good to know some things do not change I often hear kids here in Australia having the same argument as we had many a time, remember


" Ya can't shoot me Ya ded a shot ya first" "No am not Ya missed" " No a din't a gotya right between the eyes" "  Ya couldnt ha' a wa iding behind this tree" " No ya want n if ya not goin ta be ded we not playing" " Ahl be ded then ya mardy bum"

Recently I found a video movie on sale, it was Walt Disney's Davy Crockett starring Fess Parker, I bought it  to show my son Matt [ honest I did!!  I know what you are thinking, you are thinking I bought it for myself. ] By today's standard it is very tame and hard to imagine that we as kids thought it was fantastic, if you were lucky you owned a Davy Crockett hat and a gun. Most of us scraped through with just the gun, the kids we really hated were of course the few who owned the full outfit.

Then there was conker season when we would all head up to Silverwood and come back with our pockets full of conkers, then we would try all sorts to make them harder, heating them in the oven, soaking them in vinegar, or anything we could find. Drill the hole and thread string through, and we were ready to do battle, course I was always nervous playing against Kids who wore glasses, I mean them conkers hurt your knuckles if someone couldn't swing accurate.


For many of us as children the only Holidays we had, were of course the Workingmen's Club's annual daily outings to seaside resorts. Our Parents used to pay each week to the outing fund at the respective Club. These outings were very well arranged, and transport was either by coach or Train. Refreshments were provided by the clubs for all the kids, plus spending money and including a dinner in the late afternoon. [ Fish 'n' Chips of course.].  When the journey was by coach we used to stop halfway, we all made a big dash for those toilets didn't we. A lot of us just headed for the trees or behind the nearest wall, knowing that waiting in line was not an option anymore.

We used to sing all the way to the coast, but we were always too tired to sing on the way back. [ not one green bottle could be raised ] These two clubs of Dalton and Thrybergh were referred to as ' The top club' and 'the bottom club'.

On the hill overlooking what is now Thrybergh Park was the site of a second World War Gun emplacement, part of the defence system for Rotherham and Sheffield. It was mentioned in one of the "Lord Haw Haw "Broadcast during this War. This site was of course a great place to play soldiers as a child, unless someone spotted you, and the local policeman would turn up on his pushbike to throw you off.


The Reservoir which is also on Thrybergh Park was a popular place to go as a kid fishing for Tadpoles, and small fish called Sticklebacks. Again the appearance of the local Law would see us running. [ little scallywags ]
The days we would wait for a train to appear at the railway bridge on Park Lane, and when one did, you would jump up on the wall and stick your silly head over to watch the train emerge from under the Bridge, and what did we get out of this , a face full of steam, soot, and grime. Often the drivers would sound the whistle and wave, back then we all wanted to be a train driver when we grew up.

I remember the first time I saw a television was around 1957 which was at Mrs Fosters house on School Street, a little black and white set. We had called in to see our old neighbour and she had just bought the set, it was the first time I had seen Ballet dancing , and  we were very embarrassed because it looked as though the Male dancers had no trousers on.

The old Rag n Bone man would come round with his horse and cart calling out in a nasally voice "rag n bones ". As soon as we heard him we would dash in the house " Mum, Mum got any old rags fa Rag N Bone man" We never missed a trick back then.


John Doxey 2003


My Memories page 2





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I have no affiliation  with any Trade Union, Political body, or organization regarding the information on this site. All information on this site is Factual and correct to the extent of my knowledge. There is no intent to cause offence to any individual. Should you spot an error please let me know  and that error will be corrected.


This site is the result of over 7 years research, and compilation, should you wish to use any of the content for publication of literature please contact me. The poetry and life of James Ross, the story of St. Leonard's Cross, and other items on this site were compiled, and first published on this site in their present context as a study of Thrybergh. If you use this site as a source, out of courtesy, please give credit where it is due as I have done on this site where appropriate.
All text and pages as formatted and presented on this site Copyright John Doxey and may not be reproduced under any circumstances without consent. Photos, and information Copyright to Primary Sources where applicable