Your story – Heather Scott

What is your earliest memory?

The earliest memory that I have is when mum and dad were taking my sister Sue and me to see Father Christmas one December, I would probably have been about 2 or 3 years of age as I started school when I was 4 years old and it definitely was before I started school.

As I said before I grew up in a small village in South Wales called Pendoylan, it was about 7 to 10 miles south west of Cardiff, depending on which way you went. The department store where Father Christmas was holding court was in Cardiff so, as my dad didn’t have a car, we had to catch a corporation bus, which was what most people did back then as very few people in the village had cars. In the 50’s we had play clothes, good clothes and school clothes, once you started school; so to go to town we were dressed in our good clothes, I know I had on a little coat with matching hat and shinny shoes with a strap and buckle and a scarf as it was cold, I can’t remember what colour the coat and hat were, they might have been a light blue as mum liked me in blue clothes, but I know that I had a pair of black shinny shoes at one stage so it was probably then and I think it was a white and lemon scarf. I can’t remember what Sue, mum and dad were wearing all I can remember is that everyone was very smartly dressed, I think dad might have been wearing an overcoat.

The bus stopped just across the village green, just outside the entrance to a short drive up to a small manor house called ‘Ty Mawr’ or, in English, ‘Great House’, which unfortunately is no longer there as it was knocked down illegally in the 1970’s by a developer, the only reminder or indication left is the name of the road up to the houses that were built to replace it – ‘Heol Ty Mawr’ or ‘Great House Road’.  There was no pavement along the road going up to where the bus stopped but there was one leading from the house to the road (between the houses and the village green) and the entire walk, even for a small child was only about 5 minutes max, but even before we reached the road I had managed to have a mishap. We left the house and as we were walking along the path and I ended up falling and cutting my forehead, probably because I was excited about seeing Father Christmas and was skipping instead of walking. Needless to say I ended up crying, so mum had to go back in the house to find a plaster for my head by which time the bus had arrived but we didn’t miss it as the driver stopped at the end of the path to pick us up, this wasn’t an unusual occurence as they would often pick us up or drop us off there. [ The conductors were regulars and got to know the people well, Danny was the name of the conductor, we didn’t get to know the drivers so well as they were shut in a cab at the front. Sue and I were not good bus travellers as children and Sue would frequently be sick so Danny would stop the bus near the house so that mum could getn a bowl of water and clean the back of the bus also, Lassie, our dog, would often go to the bus stop with us and get on the bus, Danny would let her ride down the road then put her off by the path. ] Anyway, we took the bus to Cardiff and managed to get to see Father Christmas, somewhere there is a black and white photograph  of me with a plaster on my forehead with my scarf tied over my hat and under my chin, not looking very happy, and Sue sitting with Fathert Christmas and his female fairy helper.