What I love about history is the constant opportunity to learn something new. Research is always vital however this can be difficult if you’re not sure where to look. This may especially be the case where buildings or infrastructure is torn down. Once the physical reminder of history is lost, it’s likely the memory of it will be lost too. Generations upon generations of people are born and what was once well-known to many can become forgotten. The same can be said for stories.
As is often the case, I came across Whatley Station and the Whatley Park Pensioners purely by chance whilst searching for something else. At first confused (where in the world was Whatley Park?) I began researching and found myself learning a piece of Bayswater’s history which seemed as though it had (perhaps unintentionally) been buried in the past.
[It matters little] …whether we make good cheer snugly within four walls and with closed windows, or beneath the verandah or spreading tree, or in the house with doors and windows open to the most welcome of guests, the breeze – Christmas is ever the same, the day when we give ourselves up to friendship, to merrymaking, to pleasure, and desire nothing better of Fate than that it shall “let every man be jolly.”