Eric Bradley Ormerod was born on the 24th October 1919 at Burnley, in Lancashire. His parents had just returned from South America where his father had been working, and Brazil was not a good place for a pregnant woman to be. Eric's mother died five days after giving birth, at the age of 32, and he was brought up by his paternal grandmother.

When Eric was 6 his father remarried. His half-sister, Joyce, was born in 1926 and they moved to Sale in Cheshire. Eric visited them regularly during the holidays and got on well with his step-mother but did not go and live with them until his grandmother died in 1934, at about the time Eric left Burnley Grammar School.

Eric has always had a passion for motor cars and in May 1935 he took an apprenticeship in mechanical engineering with Crossley Motors and attended the Royal Technical College at Salford (which after the War became Salford University). Eric was treated to all the usual tricks which were customarily played on apprentices, such as: "Go to the stores and ask for a long stand". Eric did as he was told and after waiting a long while he would ask when he was going to get it. The reply would be: "Haven't you been standing there long enough?"

As the War approached, the Government gave out contracts for armament work and Crossley Motors affiliated with A V ROE. Eric's engineering experience became more aeronautical rather than mechanical and he got involved with Anson aircraft and Manchester Bombers (later known as Lancaster Bombers). The day after War broke out, Eric volunteered for the Army. Ian Hay, the Author, was forming a Company of mechanical engineers, the forerunner of REME, and Eric was told to carry on working until he was called for. He continued the aircraft work at Crossley Motors but he also became involved in the Home Guard and was on the point of being commissioned when the War was over Eric can still remember the night of the blitz in Liverpool, when a timber yard at the docks, the Tate & Lyle factory, and warehouses - in all a total of 3/4 miles - were set on fire together and created one continuous fire alongside the Mersey. Even standing in his back garden in Sale, about 20 miles distant, the sky was almost as bright as day. Eric also has many sad memories of that time: two of his six teenage friends were killed during the war. One childhood friend was in the RAF and survived the War, only to be killed when his light aircraft crashed after the War had ended.

After the War, Eric became ill and had to have part of his thyroid taken away. At that time, the permission of the Ministry of Labour had to be sought before you could leave a job but Eric was released on health grounds, as his doctor thought it would be more beneficial to work away from Manchester. He went to Southampton and worked for a small aircraft firm. However, the firm were having financial difficulties and Eric did not see much future if he stayed, so he left after 11 months and went to work at De Havilands at Hatfield. The first aeroplane he worked on at de Havilands was the Comet.

Before moving to Southampton, he kept in touch with his family and went with his sister Joyce to meet her friend, who was coming to stay for a while. That friend was Sheila. They met on Friday 13th!

Sheila Preece was born on the 27th January 1927 at Chart Sutton in Kent. For the first two years she lived with her grandmother at Ightham and, when her grandmother died, Sheila's parents moved around, ending up in a shop in St Leonards. Sheila freely admits that her father was a rogue. He persuaded her mother to put her money into a joint account and, once she had done this, he took the money and has never been seen since. Sheila and her mother went to live with her Aunt, who bought a shop at Sutton Valence, which became the unofficial tuck shop for the nearby public school. As well as running the shop, Sheila's mother provided bed and breakfast for the "maters and paters" of the schoolchildren when they arrived for speech days. Sheila's Aunt was a community nurse and midwife.

Sheila passed her 11+ exam and attended Maidstone Girls Grammar School, where she received a uniform grant, travel grant and free dinners. There was no stigma attached to this whatsover, and Sheila loved it at school, apart from when she had to play hockey and tennis. During tennis, the first thing she and her partner did was to lob the ball off into the bushes and spend the rest of the lesson looking for it. When she left school, Sheila vowed never again to touch a hockey stick or tennis raquet! One thing she remembers from her childhood was the lovely smell of hops, which she still misses.

When the War started, Sheila's mother took on two evacuees. School was on a part-time basis until the air-raid shelters were built. Sometimes the whole school day would be spent in the shelter, and they had to write with their books on their knees. Because paper was scarce, you had to write above the top and below the bottom lines, with no more than a quarter of an inch margin. They were often sent fruit picking and, on one occasion, nettle picking for school dinners. When I pulled a face, Sheila says that nettles are OK to eat if they are young and tender. There was no NAAFI at the nearby Army Camp and so Sheila and her mother used to take a suitcase full of sweets and cigarettes and acted as an unofficial NAAFI.

People in Kent used to watch the dog fights as the Battle of Britain was fought in the skies above them. Sheila remembers crouching under a hedge with her dog, watching two aeroplanes fighting it out until one was brought down.

Sheila's ambition was to go to Oxford. No-one in her family had been to university. The day she sat her university entrance exam, a doodlebug came over and they had to crouch under the desk until it went over. Sheila says this was fortunate, because it gave her a bit more time. She can still recall the day she went for her interview at Somerville. She walked around Christchurch, mist was rising from the quadrangle and Sheila was almost in tears because she thought she would never make it. She was wrong. She went to the University in 1945 to study history.

At that time, one of the college buildings was occupied by Radcliffe Infirmary which meant that a few of the first year students had to share. Sheila's room mate, who became her friend, was Joyce Ormerod. At the end of the first year she went to stay with Joyce and her family. She remembers that the journey was awful, with the train breaking down on the way, but she eventually got to the station, where Joyce and Eric were on the platform to meet her.

Eric worked in Southampton, during the period of October 1946 - September l947. British forces arrived there from the continent after being demobbed, German Prisoners of War were waiting to go back home, and the Americans were arriving from Europe on their way back to America. It was quite a military town at that time.

Sheila was settling into life at University and she joined the Bach Choir. Because rationing was still in force, she remembers they used to go into meals with their own pots of butter and jars of jam or marmalande. Under l8s got an extra ration of milk. Nearly all the male undergraduates were ex-servicemen, and older students had been in the services during the War or had been working and had their places deferred. Sheila said those like her who were straight from school felt rather young. When the new Bodleian Library was opened by King George VI, Sheila was lucky enough to have a ring-side seat.

When Eric went to Oxford for the weekend to visit his sister Joyce, he easily passed for an undergraduate. They enjoyed a good social life and did a lot of cycling and also punting on the river. I did not know that there is a different way of punting in Oxford and Cambridge: apparently in Oxford you stand on the ribbed end and in Cambridge on the flat end. Wherever you stand though, if you aren't careful you could end up with your punt pole stuck in the river! There was a section of the river reserved for naked male bathers, named "Parsons Pleasure" and another section for females named "Dames Delight". Whilst Sheila was at Oxford, a certain Margaret Roberts was there, although two years above Sheila. She remembers Margaret doing canvassing one year for the conservative party and they never dreamt that one day she would end up as our first female Prime Minister!

Eric and Sheila both remember well the winter of 1947 - one of the coldest on record. Because fuel was so scarce, students were only allowed to have one bar of their electric fires on, or one skuttle of coal, and only 2" of bath water. Sheila left Oxford in July 1948 and worked as a trainee librarian in Maidstone. Eric visited her at weekends and they got engaged two months after Sheila left Oxford. They were married at Sutton Valence Church in September 1949 and spent their honeymoon motoring through France, getting as far as Marseilles.

They wanted to live near to Eric's work at Hatfield but could not afford the £230 required as a deposit or the "ridiculously high" property prices. Instead, they moved to Buntingford and bought a small bungalow in Hare Street Road. It had two living rooms, a big kitchen, two bedrooms and a bathroom. There was a scullery at the back and a bathroom with a solid-fuel fired copper for hot water. There was no central heating. Mains water was in the bungalow but there was a tap in the scullery which used rain water from a tank.

Almost as soon as they arrived in Buntingford, they started to attend Westmill Church on a regular basis. Eric was on the Parochial Church Council for 43 years, 18 as Treasurer and 24 as Church Warden. Their son Hugh was born in April 1951, followed by Katherine in March 1953 and Victoria in May 1956. Sheila and Eric often had foreign students to stay and Sheila recalls one South African who caused a stir when he walked down Buntingford High Street in full ceremonial robes!

In 1952, Sheila's mother and Aunt retired and moved to Buntingford, living next door but one. Sheila's mother was Constance Preece, and she settled into the community well. She was organist at the church for a while and played the piano at Zoe Ryder's nursery school in the Technical Institute. With her mother there to help with the children, Sheila was able to go back to work and she took teaching jobs, firstly at Burleigh School in Hatfield and then at the Margaret Dane School in Bishop's Stortford as Head of History. Sheila said it was lovely having the luxury of two incomes Eric continued to commute to Hatfield working for De Haviland, which became Hawker Siddeley and later British Aerospace. Sheila's mother, Constance Preece, moved in with them in 1958.

When their daughter Vicky was about a month old, Eric recalls that he was walking in Buntingford High Street when he started to have double vision and he remembered listening to a radio programme about someone who had M.S. Double vision was the first symptom. However despite seeing various doctors and consultants, it wasn't until a year or two later that Dr Wigfield asked Eric if anyone had ever told him what was wrong with him. The diagnos was disseminated sclerosis, which we now know as M.S. He told Eric there would be periods when he would feel ill and long periods when he would feel well, and he should make the most of the times when he felt well. Eric took heed of these words and has always tried to do everything he could within his limits. He had long periods of remission when the family enjoyed many camping holidays on the continent and, two years after a spell of complete paralysis, Eric went on a fourteen mile hike in the Forest of Dean.

Sheila was a member of the Hertfordshire History Teachers Association and became their Chairman between 1983 and 1985. She used to take groups of girls on trips to Ashwell to do document courses. Despite his illness, Eric was able to continue working at Hatfield. In due course he became Section Leader and was chief tooling engineer for 17 years. He found that the symptons of his illness could change very quickly. He progressed to walking with a stick, then crutches and then a wheelchair, but he was able to continue working until he retired, albeit that he worked from a wheelchair in the last few years.

Eric was at first embarrassed about using his wheelchair and was determined that no-one should push him. The first day he took it to work he had a quick prayer, took it out of the boot and unfolded it. A voice said: "Want a push, Eric?" It would have been ungracious to say no and so he accepted the offer, and that was the end of his embarrassment.

They continued to have foreign holidays with a wheelchair and went to continental Europe, Scandinavia, America and Canada. Travelling by air is easy - you go to the top of the queue! Ferries can be more tricky. Once on a car ferry they were hemmed in and couldn't see how Eric was going to get to their car. Luckily a detachment of the German Army was on the ferry and, at a word from the officer, some soldiers picked him up and passed him over the cars that were in the way! There have been other amusing incidents: in Rome a couple of children, wearing brand new anoraks and eating ice-creams, were amazed at the sight of this grown up in a push-chair. While they stared, the ice creams melted and trickled down the anoraks.

Eric had always loved driving but he made the decision to give it up when he was 76. He felt that if ever he became involved in an accident, even if it were not his fault, people would say it was because of his M.S. The only driving he does now is in his electric wheelchair!

After Eric retired, Sheila decided to take early retirement, and they were still able to take holidays abroad. Sheila did some supply teaching, and did a lot of lecturing for the W.E.A. She also did some work for the British Library, providing historical CD ROMS for schools.

About five or six years ago Sheila noticed that she was walking more slowly than usual. No-one seemed to know what was wrong until a couple of years ago when she was told she had syringomyelia. Don't bother to rush to look it up in your medical books. I have already done that and it isn't there! Sheila says she has a cyst in the spine at the bottom of the skull. She has no pain but she finds it very irritating that she cannot walk as well as she would like. When she first went out on her electric scooter, she initially felt the same embarrassment as Eric had done but told herself that if Eric could do it then she must.

Sheila and Eric still live in the bungalow where they came to live "temporarily" over 50 years ago, although it has been much enlarged and modernised. Today they rely on the help of care workers, who they say have been brilliant. The dog, Biddie, also does her bit, letting hem know in no uncertain terms when they have a visitor and then giving that visitor a thorough once-over!

Sheila and Eric's son Hugh is an Accountant who lives in Winchester and runs his own financial consultancy business. He has a son, James, who is about to embark on a golfing career. Katherine is an English Teacher who lives in Welwyn Garden City and has a son William and a daughter Alice. Victoria lives in London and works at University College Hospital.

Eric has come a long way since his first symptoms 43 years ago. He has always been philosophical about his illness and when he was told that statistics showed that M.S. has occurred more often in women after the birth of their second child, he joked that in his case it was after the birth of his third child. He celebrated his 80th birthday in October, a month after Sheila and Eric celebrated their Golden Wedding Anniversary.

Sheila wrote in the October Journal a graphic description of life in Buntingford in those early years after they moved here. When I asked if they had any more memories, Sheila asked how much space I had to print them all! They recall Mrs Vesey who lived at Layston Lodge (the large house and grounds where Downhall Ley is). Each year she took a group of over 60s on a trip in a coach provided by Mrs Smith, and she paid for them all to have tea. There was a Mr Arbon, who worked on the land but in his spare time he swept chimneys. After he had been to sweep their chimney, they sat him down and gave him a cup of tea. In the course of conversation, he said that he made "duffaces". Intrigued, Eric and Sheila asked what these were. "Well", he said, "some are big, some are small, I paint some this colour and some that". Any ideas yet? They turned out to be "dove houses"!

Apparently there were a lot of tramps coming through Buntingford. Just outside Buntingford, on the A10 to the south, lived an old lady who was known locally as the "cat lady". She lived rough in the bushes near the junction of the road to Hay Street and had an assortment of cats, which she wheeled into Buntingford. At the beginning of each month, she used to stand at the side of the road and a chauffeur driven car would pull up and pass an envelope to her. It is said that she was related to a wealthy family in London and this was their way of supporting her. In the winter months, Mrs Hanbury, who lived in Hay Street, opened up one of her barns for the old lady and took her down a cooked breakfast each morning.

Eric and Sheila also told me about a Miss Payne who lived in the Bell House. She had difficulty in walking and Eric wonders whether she, too, had MS. She lived in two large rooms which each had a fireplace. She burnt a huge log about 3' long in one fireplace, with the unlit end sticking out into the room. When she went into her bedroom, she picked up the log by the unlit end and moved it into the bedroom fireplace! It is said that she got in touch with previous owners of the building who told her where some buried treasure was. After she moved out, the new owners found little holes all over the place where she had been digging for treasure!

Further strange goings on are reported at Owles Farm when Mrs Nellie Scott lived there. She apparently used to hear a ghostly horse and carriage going past Owles on New Year's Eve, supposedly a drunken lady and coachman who drove the carriage into a pond. There are also a few tales surrounding Layston Church, and Sheila says their children would not go there on their own. There is said to be an underground passage between the Church and Clay Gate. A fiddler and his dog apparently went in there; the dog came out hairless but the fiddler was never seen again.

Sheila was right. I don't have enough space in the Journal! I would like to thank both Eric and Sheila very much for talking to me.

Val Hume