Hi I am JD just an ordinary bloke from a small village called Station Town in Wingate, County Durham, England. Just an ordinary bloke with a story to tell, every single person in this world has a story, I find it most intriguing listening to other peoples stories and fascinating on how they face #life and the challenges that #life brings to all of us. See below a #quote on our Facebook profile Mrs D and I 2014. Treasure every moment Time waits for no one Yesterday is History Tomorrow is a Mystery Today is a gift That's why its called the Present Time is precious and we should enjoy every single moment, as we grow older I firmly believe that what's going to be, is going to happen and we have to roll with it and face every day with a smile and positive outlook. Welcome to the world JD. March 5th 1959 Little Thorpe hospital Easington Co Durham, it was Mother's Day, it was snowing on the day I arrived into this grand majestic world I was called Jeff after a famous actor Jeff Chandler an American film actor and singer in the sixties very good looking to say the least. My man tells me my dad brought in plant for her on that day, when my older brother arrived she was given a large bouquet of flowers and when my younger brother arrived she was given a flower that tells a story which I want to share more with you later on in my story. There are 3 brothers and 5 years between the three of us, as I sit and write this story my older brother is 60, I am 55 and my youngest brother is 50. My mam is 86 and my dad George would have been 85 he sadly died on 16th April 1996 I still have the hospital parking ticket from that very sad day 19 years ago and will expand on this later in my story. First memories. We lived in a terraced house the front facing the main road in station town with a row of terraced houses straight opposite out the back gate with an outside toilet and coal house nice and cosy close friends and family, we could leave our doors open without a care in the world. It is a two bed roomed house we at the time didn't have a bathroom we used a tin bath in the dinning room, my grandad stayed with us in the front room which we had a bed, my mam cared for him in his later years. Have you ever had a memory and wondered if it was real? I vaguely remember asking him for pocket money which he always kept a small pile of coins next to his bed I can still picture his face but I don't know if it was a real or someone had shared it with me. My mam looked after him and cared for his every whim.We were clean and comfortable and well looked after. We felt posh when we had an extension built onto our kitchen wow no more tin baths in front of the fire and walks down the yard to the toilet no matter what the weather was like wind, hail, snow and rain. There were some large families in the streets one of my best mates I grew up with had 7 family members 5 boys and 2 girls I could dedicate a whole chapter on the stories and great times we had in the street our massive playground. The family opposite had 8 in family and there were 5 other families with at least 5 children or more, all of the terraced houses had 2 rooms front and back and two bedrooms the K family kept animals in one room rabbits, pigeons etc how the hell they slept and lived together I will never know, one night I called for DK to go to the youth club I never forget he combed his hair with a fork it was so funny I laughed all the way to the youth club and back home. We were never in the house we played football for hours gatie, in back street the yard gates were the goals and down the black ash a space of land covered in a black ash surrounded by garages for the people who had cars. My first memories of school were at Station Town school it was famous for a German bomb dropped on it in world war 11 we used to look up through the sky light and image a great big bomb exploded in the hallway I don't think anyone was hurt. My teacher was Mrs Maceldry dark hair hard as nails you could not cross her. I rember one day wetting myself in class as I would not dare ask to go to the toilet, she grappled me by the neck and shook me violently trousers were soaking with a large puddle on the floor I stayed off for a week so there was something new to talk about on my return. I always remember one lad RG don't know why he used to eat his meals including custard with his finger, funny old memories I did fancy his sister a few years later. We spent hours in the local dean making camps, playing best dead man climbing trees playing with newts, racing them, chopping their legs off and making them dive into the water, there was a black pipe which was high above the dean which was covered with very thick undergrowth hi above the trees over a valley we used to crawl over it then run when we had the confidence and dared each other to jump and hang off the end. It was sofunny one on the families opposite our house further up the street the P family had three lads in them days the youngest was never allowed to join in with the older lads as it was not cool and we had to respect them and do as we were told, but if we were ever in trouble they were always right behind you!!!! I remember being picked on at school one day and that night the same lad was on the bus home and ended up with a burst nose and blood all over his shirt ha ha he never picked on me again 50 years later I still see him and don't like him. Why now I ask myself why write this story now at this present time? And good question I have been wanting to write it for a number of years and can only capture my memories and not them of my family. Late last year my dear mother was diagnosed with dementia, at 86 years of age she still has her independence and lives oin the same house which we were all brought up in through good and bad. We sit now and reflect on the good times we had not any bad times all good, my mother always says " I could write a book" which has given me the way to move on a capture my truly wonderful #life. The biggest prompt I have had. We now sit for hours reflecting and laughing at at all the stories. One she always repeats which is a great reflection on how #life was all those years ago in good old station town. This day one of the large families which lived opposite whom will remain nameless, had a old caravan behind the terraced house and on this day the kids set it on fire, the mother was still in bed and my mother God bless her went to help and got the kids out of the house and was taking then to school, as she walked past the house a chair came smashing through the bedroom window, one of the kids slipped and cut his knees my mam still managed to take him into school. My mam talks about this is if it was yesterday she can see it feel it and remember it, but can't remember what I just told her 5 mins ago it,s so sad and heart breaking and it will get worse but we still have a great laugh at the time. I left station town school and moved to Wingate school with more lads and lasses to play with this is where I remember reviving my first set of stitches which led to many more, we were playing rounders and I was behind my best mate with the bat he hit the ball carried on swinging and hit me bang on the left eye resulting in 3 stitches 53 years later the scar is still there. Many stitches did follow 6 in two cuts to my right knee 3 were done by chasing my older brother though the house he was holding the middle glass door shut and I started kicking the wood missed the wood and kicked ou the glass panel blood all over, the other 3 were I was climbing to get into the dining room window on a metal bucket when I slipped again blood all over 3 more stitches, funny I can trembler where I went to get stitched up ???? I always remember 2 characters I the new school both older than me one used to pretend he was driving a bus around the school yard every play time making engine sounds and changing gears, going fast and slow and stopping at pretend bus stops he was so funny we laughed and enjoyed or breaks it's funny the same lad lives in the village is a member of the parish council and he knows every bus route, times and drivers locally he must have an ever lasting love for buses. The other lad had polio The younger lad in the P family was either accident prone or a bad climber, we regularly used to hear him screaming / crying up walking or crawling up the street with broken bones we used to laugh and say "wonder what he has broke this week" it must of cost the hospital a fortune in plaster lol.