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My granny (Connie Toller - nee Broom) talking about when she worked at Chivers Fruit farmers and Pye Radio in Cambridge c.1933
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My granny (Connie Toller - nee Broom) talking about her first school in Russell Street, Cambridge c.1918 onwards
This is my Granny (Connie Toller) talking about when she was little and lived down Russell Street in Cambridge. This is her tale of her brother Russ and the balloon - this little incident would have taken place about 1919
This was found in a note book in the spare room at 146, Campkin Road, Cambridge, after Auntie Marie’s death (George & Marie Cruden were my great aunt and uncle- they lived at various addresses including Oxford Road, Cambridge and finally Campkin Road, Cambridge – George was my grannies brother [Connie Toller nee Broom]
A Garden of Memories by George Cruden At the bottom of my garden are large trees; in my garden more trees, but these are fruit (the latter belonging to me, but not the former). Along this fringe of trees runs a stream, or ditch, which divided my bungalow from a cornfield at some time. Unfortunately the cornfield has gone, but we now have birds – birds of all kinds – birds which rob me of a good deal of fruit; in fact I never get a cherry from the cherry tree, which has thousands on it by early June. Alas, I have to be content with a pound of imported ones usually from the shop down the road. Realising after many years that it is necessary to compromise on some matters I have given in, but not without a certain amount of frustration, mark you; after all, does a bird really know what grows wild and what I cultivated? Perhaps they think we are robbing them of Nature’s food. Every time I have killed one of these birds in the past I have been filled with remorse. The dawn chorus, which during May and June begins about three-thirty a.m. also needs some re-adjustment of life. However, I love my garden, and to potter about in the shade of the fruit trees, for instance, one remembers. One remembers, but does not plan; pleasant memories come crowding in of those years that have gone, of those people one knew, the places visited. For most of us, fortunately, we remember the most pleasant things above all, the sunny days especially. Why is it that we seem to have had March all summer years ago? I have to search my depths to remember fog or snow; it was there, certainly. Being a Londoner, and having been born at the turn of the century I certainly can remember fog – those cobblestone streets, the smell of leather, horses, stables and blacksmith’s shops (I still love the smell of leather, of which we now see little.) George Cruden These letters belong to my aunt Joan Punter ( nee Toller ). These contain interesting home front information and political views of the war. They were written by my Great Aunt Marie to her husband George Cruden. ( both now deceased. )
In several of these letter Marie refers to George as Peter Precious- as she was a Catholic from Ireland and didn't want to introduce him to her family as George ( the English kings name ) she called him Peter. At 95: [ Oxford Road Cambridge ] My Dearest x Thanks for your letter, & it was certainly a gruelling journey- pity they don’t put more corridors on- what a life at London Road- that’s some billet- guess the sooner they decide about some other places the better for all concerned- as the a.m. people must be getting fed up with it too. They say on the wireless that they’ve got so many airforce personnel they are drafting them into the other two forces- particularly the army- as that is where they are wanted, seems such a daft arrangement, although they add they are continuing to take recruits. Do you think bringing up the matter of remuster has brought about the recent change about for you & those other chaps? Went to the pictures by myself on Monday night- mother dosen’t care for pictures she says- Monday 6 p.m. I did the front garden by cutting the grass, clearing the beds of toffee papers, rags & other odds & ends, & mowed the back lawn- but I’m scratched to bits for overlooking the rose trees, & plonking into the taller ones. The weather keeps nice, that’s one thing in it all. Yesterday we went to the Botanical gardens. Con & the children. They enjoyed it…can’t seem to think of anywhere nice to go except to Frenches & Brittans..It would have been nice by the sea this weather, wouldn’t it? Uncle Harry turned up at teatime last night- he does look so thin & ill- but he says he couldn’t stand life in that Linton institution any longer & has come back to the lodging house here- I got that tea tin open & passed it on to mother- its best to do that think, don’t you- Well dear, did your washing yesterday ( what a pile ) & hung it out, if she doesn’t do it on me , I’ll iron it. Well cheerio, love. Hope you are feeling better & looking forward to seeing you x Your own loving Marie xxxx p.s. Had a warning Monday night. This is a short clip of me chatting to my granny, Connie Toller (nee Broom) about where she grew up in Cambridge. Granny is 95 now; she spent the first part of her childhood growing up down Russell Street in Cambridge. In this clip she talks about the cows that used to come off of Coe Fen and down Russell Street to the corner where it joined with Hills Road, where there was a dairy. She also talks about the old cattle market which used to be at the corner of Hills Road and Cherry Hinton Road in Cambridge. The old cattle market has now gone and in its place today stands the Cambridge Leisure Complex.  The Old Dairy Hills Road Cambridge  My great uncle George (on the right) with his friend standing in back garden of house in Russell Street, Cambridge. Notice the little girl in the background on the right - we think that this is my granny - Connie Toller (nee Broom).
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