Harthill

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Little Hills / Pit Lane

Born 1937 Kiveton family. Remeber getting on the bikes with my friends, riding over what we called the little hills down the pit lane to the tunnel top. Carrying an old clothes horse and a blanket, that was our tent. Take an old frying pan to cook the tiddlers we had caught. It was great. Having a game of kit can and spinning the wooden tops. Scrumping old Mr Thompson apples at the back of Dawson Terrace, him chasing us with a big stick. Sitting under the table listening the bombs dropping over Sheffield. I could go on. Things were good then
A memory of Kiveton Park contributed by Dorothy Sankey

My Roots

North Anston is the place where i grew up we are a old Anston family, my maiden name was Foulds.I remember sledging in Butcher Orchard and landing in the river many times, we roamed al over the village and because every one knew everyone we came to no harm i love this place, two of my daughters live here and i hope they are as happy as i am to be part of Anston
A memory of North Anston contributed by Gillian Hodgson

Aston Terrace

I remember sliding down Outcrop and sitting on wooden steps leading to Brookhouse pit. On pay day miners used to give us some coppers and we would share them out. I used to go and see Guddy Pearson, a homeless man who lived in one of derelict houses on Aston Terrace. Our roundabout was at the sewerage, they had a thing like a roundabout with water coming out on a bed of stones. I can also remember when a cage accident happened at pit, all the women went running down to pit to see if thier loved ones had survived. I was only about 7 at the time. I can remember having to be dug out of house one winter as ...read more here
A memory of Aston contributed by First name Last name

Moving to a brand new council house

I was born on Aston Terrace (leading down to Brookhouse colliery) in 1956, lived there till I was 3-4ish yet I can remember running down to the bridge to get there before the steam train passed under the bridge, memories I still treasure along with the friends I knew there, many of them also moved to the new council estate. Many of them no longer with us but not forgotten. One of the strongest memories I have is of sliding down the side of the tip on the blade of an old shovel we found, and playing on some old cranes left to rot at the top of the terrace. Could go on for ever but getting to the end of ...read more here
A memory of Aston contributed by Vincent Ryczek