Reading about the dangerous things that many young people do these days reminded me of some of the silly and dangerous things my friends and I got involved in when we were young.
One such act of recklessness was climbing up the scaffolding to the top of Bromham church spire on a very windy and dark night, after leaving the old working man’s club with a box of groceries I had won.
We put the box on a tombstone, and with a few barley wines inside of us, we began our ascent. It was not too difficult, but after reaching the top and tying our handkerchiefs round the cockerel’s resting place (the cockerel was being regilded) we looked down to see Ron Hinder, the club steward, under the club’s entrance light, looking about two and a half inches tall, and we realised just how high 109ft really is.
On reaching ground level again, it took us several minutes to find which tombstone I had left my box of groceries on. When we did find them we sat on the tombstone and ate the grapes included with my winnings (at midnight).
A few mornings later, a wellington boot appeared in the same place as our handkerchiefs had been, so if anyone happens to see a man walking around with one wellington boot and one polished shoe, you can bet that would be Freddie Giles.
A funny lot some of them Bromham folk!
Den Rose, Bromham.
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