Chased by the park keeper in the 1940s
“It was the most amazing adventure of my short and sheltered life. What seemed to me like several hundred children rampaged up Islingword Road and into Queen’s Park where we completely ran amok. Or so it seemed to me.
We crashed through shrubberies and trampled over flower borders with complete disregard for all the world. Divided into gangs of Cowboys and Indians we whooped and screamed at the top of our voices. How long the game lasted I’ve no idea – but it was the most WONDERFUL experience of my whole life so far.
Until, with a blood curdling shout, the park keeper came striding out of his hut and straight towards us. Children flew in all directions, arms and legs flailing about madly. All except me of course. My legs turned to jelly, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth and I almost wet myself. Tall and broad-shouldered, he gave me the worst ticking off I have ever received – even to this day.”