Until my parents and I moved into the newly built 9 Lawrence Drive, in 1948 possibly, we lived in a Nissan hut in Shorne woods. It was the second or third one on the left as you stood with your back to the A2 and was in the corner of the compound. The huts seemed to me to be huge and cavernous and divided into rooms, which were made in our hut by curtains made of blankets hanging from lines I believe. How we washed or cooked I cannot recall but I know we did.  There were only the three of us. My memories of the huts are limited as I was only 3 or 4 years old. My birthday is in December and I know we were there for at least one of my birthdays, and as I attended Cobham Primary school at 5 years old I believe we were living in Cobham by that time. I can remember a huge pit where rubbish was thrown, and walking with my dad along the A2 collecting manure after the horses had gone past. My dad worked in Chatham Dockyard in number 2 Smithy I think, along with other families who lived in Shorne Woods, and my mum had been a nurse. Like many others they had no real home after the war until Lawrence Drive was built, and my mum always thought that it was because she wrote to Mr A. Bevan that we were allocated the council house. There were many who lived in the Nissan huts who did not get such houses allocated to them she believed. I lived in Lawrence Drive until I left to go to teacher training college in 1963 and my parents eventually moved to Cobham New College where my father was briefly warden before his death. My aunt, his sister still lives in the college. I now live in Meopham and still have close ties with many who live in Cobham and Sole Street. My aunt has a host of memories of life in Round Street where they were brought up.
I attended Cobham Primary school until I moved to St Georges and finally Wombwell Hall Tech. High in Gravesend, and have many memories of living in the village. 
Submitted March 2014

When my father bought the property he said that it was shielded from view from the road by a row of contorted dead trees. Flint and brick garden walls had fallen over and it was a fight to reach the front door through the brambles. You could stand in the drawing room, look up and see the sky through the holes in the roof. Wall paper hung from the walls in shreds. A cupboard door had swung open and showed the remains of food covered in mould. It was gloomy and damp.

It was necessary to sell the Coach House and some of the land away from the house to pay for the purchase of Sole Street House.

He set to work to make the house habitable. Builders replaced the stolen lead with zinc and the tiles and slates were renewed. The main house was divided into a ground floor flat and a first and second floor flat. The cottage and the main house were redecorated. A block of six garages was built.

He let the three separate parts of the house which now became known as "the flats“.

My parents were married on the 2nd October, 1968 and they occupied the ground floor flat. They had three children, my sister Wendy, brother Martin and me.  As they could afford it, my parents restored and renovated the house at the same time adapting it to today's needs and life style.

Eventually they took over the whole of the main house and blocked up the secondary entrance and replaced the staircase at its former position using the original handrail. They kept the convenience of the smaller rooms and added a brick built summer house and porch.

We use the "butlery" as an everyday living room and still have open fires. We use an AGA for cooking.

Most evenings as we sit in the "butlery" we hear sounds like the thud of footsteps crossing floorboards in the bedroom above, even though it is carpeted and nobody is there.  When we decorated the room recently, we explored the joists, floorboards and walls for a fault which may be the reason for these noises. There was nothing wrong.  When visitors look to the ceiling as they hear the sounds, we just say it is the ghost; perhaps the ghost of John Scratton's wife who lived here as a recluse.

The once overgrown garden is now lawns and flower beds planted with a wide variety of plants suitable for a flower arranger's garden.

My father, like all the previous owners of the house, is the chairman of Cobham Parish Council. He is also on the Board of Trustees and Chairman of the Committee responsible for the welfare of the Meadow Room. The village hall donated by the Misses Stevens. The sisters who were owed money by William Savage and who took the house away from him in payment for his debts.

It is our duty to maintain the house for future generations to enjoy the skills left by the Georgian craftsmen.

It must have been a hard life for everyone except the master and mistress of the house. Even then William Savage owed such a fortune that he had to sell the house. (I wonder why Mrs Scratton did not leave the house.)

Today we need to plan to take exercise to keep fit unlike times past when servants must have been exhausted by their duties. Without radios and televisons, gossip about the masters must have been very  entertaining. Tradesman calling would be welcomed unlike today when telephone sales are an intrusion.

I expect they would have all been able to play a musical instrument and sing to amuse themselves and the men would play cards and gamble.

Because the roads were poor it would take an age to travel beyond the nearest town and anyone from abroad would be treated with interest and suspicion. what we are doing. Our homes are so warm in winter that we wear light summer cloths all the year round. Non bio-degradable
packaging accumulates in huge tips and waste is piped out to sea killing our fish. Fumes from cars, energy plants and factories are reducing the ozone layer.

New roads plough through our countryside. Speed at everything is paramount.   STOP.   Please can we preserve our heritage.