Kent Brooks continues his reminiscences of 60 years ago

KENDALIANS in the old days were largely related and most knew, at least by sight, the majority of people to be seen on the street.

This was a true community where family ties stretched back generations and a small number of family names were common.

On Wednesdays and Saturdays, Stramongate still had farmers’ traps with their shafts pointing into the air and locally grown products on sale (“farmers markets” are nothing new!).

Many small farmers were only now acquiring cars and, more importantly, tractors. Most still ploughed using horses, often “girt Gallowas”.

Their cows were Northern Dairy Shorthorns and fancy breeds such as Friesians and Ayrshires were viewed with suspicion (“Mi father alus kept shorthorns. What’s good enough for him is good enough for me” was a sentiment often heard).

Generally electricity was also just arriving in rural areas and people relied on paraffin lamps for lighting. It was only lit after sitting a long period in gathering gloom.

The Market Place was already beginning to be invaded by traders from “down South” (which meant places like Preston) selling cheap clothing.

Thursday afternoon was half-closing day and the town was dead by one o’clock.

On Sundays, the town was deserted except for people hurrying to churches and the many chapels.

In the war I recall my parents inviting in two young American servicemen in charge of a military truck, who were desperately wandering the rainy, deserted streets trying to find some shelter and refreshment. They were incredibly polite and called my mother “ma’am”, which struck me as very exotic.

Few Kendalians had been abroad, except in the services, and America seemed very far away. Occasional tourists came from the continent, but most foreigners were Italian and later German prisoners of war working on farms.