COMMUNITY spirit and a desire to help others has been part of the fabric of East Lancashire life over many decades.

The two wars fostered a togetherness, a desire to close ranks and keep an eye out for our fellow man, which continued long after peace came.

It was aided by our traditional way of life — back-to back, terraced housing meant that most people in the street knew one another — indeed, there were often several members of the same family living only a few doors apart.

Not only did they live close together, but people worked together, too, often in the mills, mines and factories, so communities, in effect, became large ‘families’ all ready to give a helping hand when needed.

Housewives would gossip over the back gate, chat to their neighbours in the corner shop, while the men met up for dominoes in the pub on the end of the street.

Roy Haworth, who know lives in Australia, was brought up in Waterside, near Hoddlesden where his grandparents owned the Duke of York.

He said: “We lived next door and I remember that everyone in the village had their one front door key on a piece of string tied to the letterbox so the first home could get in. Can you imagine that today?

“During the war when the government brought out Dig For Victory, the older men, who had allotments, had a meeting in the pub and all decided to grow a different vegetable each.

“From then on villagers got a constant, year-round supply of free vegetables; the gardeners were too old to go to war but they could feed the people on the home front.”

Roy remembered, too, that all the villagers would rally round to help farmer ‘Jem-a-Rosins’ with the haymaking in the summer.

“When it was time to start the word went out and young and old alike got on with the job; the only reward I remember was his wife went down to the pub with eight kits — a metal container with a lid on— and brought back seven filled with beer and one with lemonade.

“Those were the type of neighbours we had in our village, people who asked ‘how can we help’, not like today when all they ask is ‘what’s in it for me?’ Margo Grimshaw, who was brought up in a Star Paper mill house in East Street, Feniscowles, remembers: “If my mum was out when we came home from school we would knock on any door in the street and get a jam butty waiting for her return.

“At Maypole time all the street would be out, a plank across two orange boxes made a great seating arrangement and treacle toffee, made by a the mums, would be handed round; it was the same on bonfire night, too.”

Jack Fothergill, brought up in Bastwell, said: “Community spirit was much closer when I was a lad during the late fifties, early sixties.

“Everyone on any terraced street usually knew every one of their neighbours by their first names.

“If any of the neighbours died the whole street drew their curtains as a mark of respect — some would even take a day off work to attend the funeral or simply stand at their doorway, bowing their heads as a mark of respect as the funeral procession moved off.

“It was also common for the children to go round to the elderly folks on each street after school and ask if they wanted anything from the shop before we started to play out.

“The errands were done without any grumbles and we would be offered a penny, but always refused it. ”