NOT so long ago, we had a traffic census in Norton and Malton. We were asked to state where we'd been, where we were going, and for what reason. No problem, except that, to some, it may well have been. I was thinking of those who'd been visiting their girlfriend and, without giving too much away, did they put this down as 'personal business' or did 'recreation/leisure' suit the journey description?

Norton Road has been 'Blackboards' as long as I can remember, and I expect it was so before I was born. Norman Race popped in the other day and commented that he often comes across the name Norton Road, and has to stop and think - "Now just where is that?" When I was at school, Blackboards was a N E Railway-owned road and, in fact, the gateposts were still there, but I can't recall the actual gate. There was, however, a swing gate across the footpath, one of those sandwiched between a triangular fence so that cycles couldn't get through, neither could prams. The sign there reminded users that it was private, and that there was 'No through road to Malton'. So there! This restrictive gateway was still there in the early '30s.

The black boards were, in fact, a high fence made of old railway track sleepers, on end, and effectively kept the railway track free from trespassers. Black indeed from years upon years of traffic thundering over them, and creosote-soaked no doubt. Hence the name. It didn't need a council meeting to decide upon a name - it just happened.

I listened to an advert on TV recently about some "wonderful" new audio equipment on sale. Nothing like it had been heard before, the sound was "out of this world". Not only was it made to exacting current standards, but it also had the benefit of using "real valves"! Now that's an admission of some sort, isn't it? I can recall homemade, hard-wired wireless sets, just a flat board and a front panel, with plug-in coils, made by my elder sister's fiance for us, to be followed by the valved variety, still in the '20s. It's rather nice to know that, after all the know-how of today, and the transistor revolution, if you want REAL quality, then it's back to the valves. Nevertheless, transistor radios would have been a godsend in the Second World War when heavy valved radios had to be humped around everywhere and, in infantry conditions, needed a man to carry and another to operate. By the time we reached the Rhine-crossing-time, miniature valves had been invented and we had the No 38 set, which weighed but a few pounds and had the advantage that, if you had a spare moment, by holding the tuning dial at its extreme range against the stop, you could just get the Forces Network. Oh boy, that's when music was music.

A long welcome letter from Mr R Foord, of Lealholm, reminding me of those wonderful threshing days. How I enjoyed reading it - several times. He tells of Russells, of Great Edstone, who ran threshing sets (are Russells of Kirkby their descendants, I wonder?). His diary of 1926 contains a list of men engaged for a day's work. Numbered, rather like a gun-team I suspect, for No 6 was the flag-man. This had related to the days when a man had to walk before the engine with a red flag. One man, by the name of Big Kit, who was over 6ft tall, was always flag-man for Russells. Kit worked at the straw-end of the machine, and whether the straw came off slow or fast, Kit coped with it all with little effort.

Mr Foord (I don't know what his first name is, although he has written to me before) tells me that Russells' engine driver, named Bill, was the greatest hero to them as small boys. Why of course! Didn't every small boy want to be an engine driver in those days! Once, Billy fell ill with a fever and was taken inside and put on a sofa with a top coat over him. Meanwhile, the steam engine kept on working, and all went well until there was the noise of steam escaping "from everywhere". Poor Billy was escorted from his sofa, with the big black top coat over his shoulders and, climbing on board somehow, he soon put right what was wrong, after which Mr Foord led him back indoors and saw him safely back on the sofa and covered with his big coat.

I'll bet there are lots of tales from those days. Many will be lost for ever, but at least this one, now in print, is saved. And it's wonderful to think that, once on the web, as it will be, it can be read in any corner of the world.

A bit more from Mr Foord next week, all being well, as space is getting short. And my thanks also to Gordon Feaster, of Scarborough, for his letter about Empire Day which will be replied to next week, too. My old friend Gladys Eddon, late wife of Cess, of Low Overblow, Stape, and Pickering, often talked of a Gordon Feaster. Wonder if you're one and the same.

Things actually said in court:

Q. Is your appearance here this morning pursuant to a deposition notice which I sent to your attorney?

A. No. This is how I dress when I go to work.

Updated: 13:57 Wednesday, June 11, 2003