THE BCH ARCHIVE
LOCAL HISTORY FOR
And The Surrounding District
GHOSTS & THINGS
An archive of stories and anecdotes gleaned from Facebook and mailing.
You may remember George Cull who lived at Foxhall (halfway up the track to Pink Cottage) with his wife Theresa (Weaver) and daughter Barbara. He was a typical Castlemorton small farmer, running a few sheep on the common; of medium height and build he walked with a distinctive limp having damaged his hip by being run over by his T20 tractor when starting it. Of all people I have ever known , he had the most phenomenal memory. He would tell me the names of all his animals when he was a child, and many other tales. He considered himself something of a psychic and told me of his two sightings of the ‘Grey Lady’ standing by the pool at Underhill Farm, dressed in a flowing full length grey dress, quite still, looking into the pool. He said she had murdered her drunken husband and then drowned herself in the pool. He would discuss with me what the future holds and particularly the fate of mankind. I found him a most interesting character if a little scary.
He rang me one day to tell me a hang glider pilot had just crashed into a very large Ash tree down by Fir Tree Cottage; I said I would meet him there and would he take a ladder to the tree while I found a climbing rope. Five minute later I arrived to find the chap still caught in the branches and hanging upside down, still in his harness and seeming to be somewhat traumatised. I climbed into the tree and worked my way along the branch managing to get within touching distance; I was planning secure him to the carabiner I was holding out and using the rope tie him to the tree to stop him falling any further before the fire brigade came. All of a sudden with a huge crash the branch broke off at the trunk and both of us plummeted earthwards. I remember landing like a cat on hands and feet, but able to stand - just, I remember dizzily turning round and round a few times; the chap lay on the floor groaning loudly. I told George to ring for an ambulance. There was nothing more I could do so I rather drunkenly made my way home thinking, Oh my goodness, I really messed that one up! - George said we fell nearly 40foot! I was later told he had a back injury and was hospitalised for Salome time . To this day I have no idea who he was. Ironic really now that a 6foot fall off a roof has rendered me paraplegic; no complaints , c’est la vie!
- to be continued, more to come.