I find it very refreshing whilst taking a trip down memory lane with the Matlock Mercury.
We have a camera clip of the floods at Matlock Green in February 2, 1931. Although this was a little before my time, I do remember it happening again in the past and consequently safety measures were taken to avert the recurrence when the River Derwent was swollen.
I am sure many stories were told in Dolly’s little shop and everyone traded at the greengrocers next door which was run by the Taylor brothers. Those were the days when community spirit always remained at the forefront.
You mention that despite the devastation smiling faces could be seen and I think I can just see children looking out an upstairs window.
Well all Derbyshire stalwarts have always stood tall and strong when faced with adversity, we rolled up our sleeves and got stuck in.
Over the last few years this corner of our town, which incidentally is where Matlock itself originated, appeared to be forgotten, but not any more, according to my observations, it is springing back to life. The Horseshoe pub is now undergoing a much needed face lift, it has been in urgent need of a nip and tuck for a long time and new houses are to be constructed on the adjoining land, a bakers shop opened up across the road and it isn’t only the golden topped freshly baked loaves which are on display, it has a deli together with a selection of ‘naughty but nice’ treats to tantalise your taste buds, whilst enjoying a good old British cuppa, stirred with warmth and friendliness.
The icing on the cake must surely be our new florist who planted her roots a few months ago and which are already pushing up their green shoots towards a budding future, what better to bring out the colour on a dull day than to come along to Matlock Green to set eye and mind within the creativity which is unfolding its leaves around this pretty little flower pot. It is quaint, it is striking and it is all together very delightful.
Matlock Green has changed very little over the years, however, it will always retain its charm and individuality as it stands in the shadow of Riber Castle.
I recall running down Starkholmes Road towards Church Street and Tagg Hill, together with a caboodle of children listening to the sound of clattering hoofs behind, Mr Dickens and his horse and cart as he delivered bread and pancakes to hungry families, if they didn’t have any money to pay, he never left them without.
That is what memories are made of, but then maybe I am old fashioned, well so-be-it, I will never change.
I hope that future generations will be able to take a trip down memory lane, if so and if the evil and greed is once and for all banished from their topsy-turvy world we live in, then I would like to think that their reflections will prove to be as illuminating as mine.