Joyce Crabtree at the Village Fair – 92 and counting!

Our most loyal supporter, Joyce Crabtree, now 92, was introduced by John Williams at the Fair on Saturday. She has presented us with a pile of old photos of the fair over the years which I shall scan, but in the meantime, thought you would be interested in one of her stories of Fair day in 1984. Here is Joyce in 2004 with our very own Fortune Teller – Madam Elinorac.

And now over to Joyce, who has written this letter to us all:

There are easier ways to get to the North Bovey Fair than the one taken by Kenneth and Joyce Crabtree on July 21st 1984. but we started out on a lovely day feeling happy and fit. This was not as we found ourselves later on in the day!

I think I could say that my favourite place on the part of Dartmoor I know is Easdon Tor.  When sitting there we could hardly see any evidence of life around us. The Whooping Stone had once been much visited by parents who brought their children when suffering from whooping cough – they passed them through the hole on the stone and were consequently cured.  We put it down to the exertion of getting up there.  Today was so quiet, sunny and still and we had our own sandwiches for picnic lunch. We were on our way to North Bovey Fair.  We went from here to Easdon Down.I will now copy from my diary written directly after our weekly Saturday walk, usually written in bed.

“‘It was time to leave the ‘tops’ and make our way down the other side of the hill. We took this path last year and we remembered we took the path to the left. It was clearly discernible and down we went. We could see North Bovey clearly. The sun was strong and good weather for the fair. The path we knew last year however, was nothing like the one we remembered. Last year we walked easily through bracken. In this summer of drought we were up to our knees in muddy water. We were very scratched by gorse and we feared losing our shoes. I LOST my shoe and Ken had to retrieve it – getting mud all over him! We could go no further. We were stuck, and oh-oh, the lovely sound of North Bovey’s church came floating over to us, telling us the fair was about TO START!

“We stood and looked around us. Below was the Blackaller Hotel. Nearby we could see the burned out ‘Old Walls’ with the black gaping roof. We clearly thought there would be no nice tea and cake for us. We pushed through more gorse and more bog when at last we came across a little clearing which we remembered. All we could do was to walk to the top again.

“‘Hello’ we said to our dear Tor ‘We didn’t expect to see you again today” down now, down the other side. It was now prickly scrub our bus left Moretonhampstead at 4.45 ‘we had little time and we had to appear in badly marked clothes and scratched legs – they had been bleeding. We got down at last to the Blackaller Hotel. No time to stay and have tea as last week. There was tea at the fair if we dare appear in such déshabillé – it took some nerve. I hastily shuffled to a table whilst Kenneth sought tea and a lovely cake. It was wonderful. A young man joined our table. He wore a linen suit – impeccably smart and immaculately turned out. He spoke to us. He had found parking difficult – a bit upset. ‘Oh, he said – if I could tell you the trouble I had getting here you would just NOT believe me.’ We smiled and sympathised but said nothing – Great fun!”

Kenneth and I walked away from a busy successful life in our 50’s. We had very little money weekly, but Kenneth would sometimes say jogging along on the bus home – tired, full of sunshine and happiness – no need to worry or hurry. ‘Being rich is having money; being wealthy is having time’. He said it jokingly but that is what we believed. We loved each other and that was all we needed. I am 92 nearly now and I think the adage is true. I have loved recalling past times.

love from Joyce

Kenneth 1915 – 1988

Joyce 1984