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MEMORIES OF NORTHAMPTONSHIRE

LIFE IN ALL SAINTS CHURCH CHOIR
KETTERING DURING THE 1940'S
Derek Payne

I never ever thought of myself as being a singer. However during the war my mother discovered that All Saints Church in William Street were seeking boys for their choir and she thought it would be nice for me to join. At first I disliked it but after a while I really enjoyed the church life and being a member of the choir.

We sat in the choir stalls, all young boys dressed in black cassock and white surplice, we looked like little angels. The church was in the hands of Father Round, and Father Smith. Father Round lived in the vicarage next to the church. I thought it was a mansion, well it certainly was compared to our small home in Buccleuch Street.

Father Smith was in charge of the choir, Eric Hodson was the organist, he was the District Coal Officer at Ellis & Everards on Rockingham Road. In those days the organ had to be pumped by hand, and sitting in a chair, by the side of the organ, unseen by the congregation, was Bob, who was a railway worker, and he had the task of working up and down the large wooden handle that provided air to the pipes.

The choir boys were regularly invited to a couple of homes nearby for refreshments after practice. I remember the kindness of the Hartley family in William Street. Mr. Hartley and his son, Ralph, were both servers at the church. They always had lemonade and cakes for us, and also there were sisters who lived in Pollard Street, where we were also made very much at home. I'm afraid I forget their name. The choir boys were also asked to be ball boys on the tennis courts, next door to the vicarage and again we were well supplied with refershments.

It seems strange now that quite young children would be walking the streets at night, with never a fear of danger. Although I must admit I was always a bit scared of the air raid shelter in William Street, in case a monster might suddenly jump out on me.

Eric Hodson's family had a bakery in Ford Street and he also invited choir boys along there. He had several air guns and we would place targets on the doors of the big ovens and spend time shooting at them. That was great fun for us. He also used to take some of us in his car on Saturdays when it was his job to visit local farms. Of course we took the air guns with us and tried to bag a few rabbits.

It was a habit at All Saints to occasionally have a visiting priest, who would then deliver the sermon. This gave the choir boys on the back row an opportunity to play games instead of listening to words of wisdom. One particular priest came regularly from Thorpe Malsor. He was a big man and very dramatic in his sermon delivery. One particular Sunday he was in full flight, and then produced a long dramatic pause, in which you could have heard a pin drop. Unfortunately some of us were playing with marbles, and at that precise moment a marble escaped and rolled across the stone floor, right under the pulpit. The noise it made was incredible, and the priest placed his large hands on the edge of the pulpit and leaned right over to watch the marble's passage across the floor. He slowly turned and looked directly at us, with a face like thunder. I think our red faces must have contrasted sharply with our white surplices.

It was very sad when Father Smith came to leave All Saints. I believe he was taking up his own stipend. He was a very popular man, loved by all, and especially by the choir. He was quite strict with us, but always fair. I remember on one occasion at choir practice we were singing a hymn in which the word "sod" appeared, meaning of course a piece of earth. It amused me and I giggled a bit with the boy next to me when we had to sing that word. Father Smith noticed of course and down came his baton hard on my leg. I deserved it. He was hearing my confessions once, and I confessed to being ambitious. He pulled me up and asked me why I considered that to be a sin. I explained that in my book it mentioned it, so I supposed it must be a sin to be ambitious. He carefully explained my error in his gentle way.

Eventually nature takes its course and my voice broke, so my choir days were at an end. I then became an altar server and enjoyed that very much. Early every Monday morning I did the communion service with Father Round, and a congregation of just two or three people.

If anyone who reads this, and knows of the people I have mentioned, then I would love to hear perhaps updates of their present whereabouts. Although after something like sixty years I imagine that most of them have departed this life.