Sam Cook The Blacksmith

A Memory of Dalham.

I can remember Sam the blacksmith. I would stand and watch him at work in the forge. He had lost an arm (presumably in the war) and he had different attachment false arms which he would change to provide the tool he required. I would watch him work and clearly remember thinking how clever this man was doing what he did with only one arm. We lived in the white thatched cottage opposite. My dad (Bill Smith) was the mechanic at Dalham Hall Farm, he had taken on the job thinking a proper workshop was going to be built, alas it wasn't so we moved on moving to Hasketon just out of Woodbridge.
I started my school days at Dalham and with my sister Susan we would walk to school. Alas on my last visit the school was no longer there. I remember being so afraid of the cattle in the fields along the road to school. One day I was waiting for my sister to come out of her class. I as an infant finished slightly earlier than Susan (I was 3 years younger than her). I was desperate for a wee but wouldn't go I case I missed her and would have to walk home past the cattle alone (utter terror). I can remember wetting myself in the corridor so as not to miss her coming out. I had wellies on and it all went into my wellies. I then had to paddle home with wet warm feet.
I last went to Dalham I 1981/82 . Sadly Sam Cook had died and I felt gutted as I would not see him. We also went into the shop/post office and to my disbelief the old lady in there had been there when we lived there. She said to my mum "I know you, you used to live in Dalham". Later while my mum was paying her for some goods she said "Mrs. Smith". You could have knocked me down with a feather. Happy days.