My wife's parents were married in St Bartholomews in 1927. Her father, Harry Wilson, was in the choir up until they were married and they were both living in that parish. Her grandfather, William Wilson, was educated at the Barts school which we think was next door. He later became a Brighton policeman in 1901 and retired in 1926 but didn't die untill 1968.

I was told as a child that St Bartholomew's was built to the same measurements of Noah's Ark as recorded in the old testament. Is there any truth to this or is it just another tale?

Editor's note: St Bartholomew's is one of the tallest churches in Europe.  It is 170 feet long and 135 feet high.  As to its comparison with Noah's Ark, I have no information on that - sorry.

St. Bartholomew's has a school attached to it. I attended there from c1942 to 1949. The school playground was overlooked by the houses of London Street, in one of which we resided. Our mother would often wave to us from the bedroom windows at playtime. When the new school was built, London Street disappeared. I was a Brownie Guider there for a number of years, and also worked in the school canteen.

It has the tallest NAVE in England...

I worked on roof restoration in the early summer of 1967. It involved clearing large amounts of rubbish from bays in the tops of the walls. This included old style ginger beer bottles and the newspapers got older the further you went down. I carved the name "Lou" with a bolster in the top of one of the huge beams that support the roof. I loved the place and still do.

On the last day of 1959, my grandparents took me by train to Brighton from Tunbridge Wells. In those days, there was a good view of St. Bartholomew's from the viaduct that curved towards Falmer. On the way home, my grandmother criticized the severity and bulk, and wondered who would erect such a monstrosity. I agreed about the stark shape, but I was immediately fascinated by the enormous size, and the way it seemed to dominate the view over the housetops. In 1972, I returned to Brighton as a student, and was amazed to see how St. Bart's still dominated the view. Visiting the church for the first time was a great thrill. I agree with the critic (Pevsner?) who says entering the church is an experience that brings you to your knees. In the 1970s, the music director was John Mingay, who played the organ brilliantly.

Lovely church this one. Unique I'd say. Do you know if it has its own web site?

I'm the organist mentioned by Doug MacKenzie above - thanks for those kind words Doug! It's amazing what you can come across when you 'Google' your own name. For so many reasons my time at St Bart's was very important to me, as a person, a musician and spiritually to name a few. When I left in 1978 I moved to Norway as organist and town musician in a place 150 miles north of Oslo called Ringebu. Three years was enough though, too darn cold in the winter!!
On my return to England I became organist of Holy Spirit Church, Southsea where the Vicar was Fr David Dunn, formerly at St Martin's, Lewes Road, Brighton. After that I spent 5 years in the choir at Wells Cathedral, Somerset and in May 2006 retired after 18 years as Master of the Music at St. Paul's Church, Honiton, Devon. I still play the organ regularly, at home, at local churches that need a deputy and at the Crematorium in Exeter. I also do the occasional recital in London and in the South West. In spite of all my varied experiences I wish I had never left Brighton in general and St Bart's in particular. The musical opportunities were great and I had hardly begun to get to grips with the potential the place offered. That's life however, and I'm only too honoured to have been a small cog in the history of such a wonderful place - long may it last.

I was John Mingay's assistant organist and pupil from 1976-78 and came back periodically when I was a student to play the organ for Andrew Teague, John's successor. I have played all over the country since: but nothing can touch those two very special years in such an incredible place. I visited a few years ago, and little had changed except for the fact that the west door, always closed in my time, had been replaced by a glass one, offering a wonderful view from outside. The verger kindly allowed me five minutes on the organ - what memories it brought back. I think it'll always be my spiritual home.

I went to school at St Barts in the mid 60s. We had to go to the church every Friday. There was a passage from the school playground into the church. I used to spend hours dreaming up ways to avoid going to church as I hated the passage. Now I realise what a special school and church this was, especially around harvest festival and Christmas.