What This Blog is About and How It All Started

I am from the North East of England which my blog name might just suggest.

A few years back I rescued many old family photographs from my spinster aunt's house.  Aunt Eleanor died at the age of 92 in 2005.  The sad task of clearing out her house, that she had lived in for over 70 years, fell to me, my sister and my husband, and what we thought was going to be an onerous task turned out to be an absolute joy.  Mind you the discovery of a dead mouse in one of her shopping bags in the under-stairs cupboard didn’t elicit a cry of joy, more like a primordial scream, if I remember rightly it came from me!

Although I had cared for Eleanor for some years, going into her empty house, when she was no longer there, just didn't seem right, but somehow I still felt welcome. However, what I did notice was that it was like stepping back in time. Going 'in the backway' through the back-yard, you passed the coal hoose (house) and the netty (outside toilet).  Eleanor's house was a terraced pit house, part of three streets built close together - close knit, just like the wonderful community that inhabited them - and ‘the Netty’ – that my Grandma used to call the 'Closet' (toilet) which was still in good working order, and had been used by Eleanor right up until she died.

Eleanor as a young woman

We were quite reticent at first, looking at Eleanor's personal belongings, but this soon turned into a constant running up and downstairs saying “Eeeh! take a look at this.” As you can imagine the house took a long time to clear. We found old photographs, post-cards, many beautiful embroidered cards sent to the family by her dad and cousin during WW1 and many old documents and papers. vintage clothes, handbags, old linen, crockery, ornaments, pictures and even two brand new gas mantles:

Gas Mantle

Eleanor had stored ‘an absolute treasure trove’ of family memorabilia, nothing was worth a great deal of money, but to me they couldn’t be more precious than the artifacts found in Tutankhamun’s tomb, well, I could be exaggerating a bit.  I suppose the reality was, Eleanor, unknowingly, had passed on to her loved ones a lot of family history. I returned home, packed out with this ‘family history,’ not knowing where the H I was going to put it all - my sister had 'no room at the inn' for anything - but it is amazing where a woman can squirrel stuff away when she really wants to.  When I use, or come across Eleanor’s/Grandma’s stuff I am both happy and sad, I suppose the word is nostalgic.

For the photographs and paperwork I bought three albums and easily filled them, but it did take a long time, once finished, I placed them on the book-case. I must admit my main thought was, what will happen to them when I am gone as the family name died out with Eleanor.

Time moved on and so did technology.  A friend sent me an email who told me about a Memories Group that she thought would be ‘just up my street’ because it  included the village I grew up in, and she knew there were many people I knew from school, that posted on this site.  It was absolutely great 'virtually' meeting up again with old friends, some were like me who had a terrible time remembering stuff, but others filled in all the gaps, as they had amazing memories.  So over the last two years I have been dismantling my albums, removing photographs, scanning them and uploading on to the Memories Site.

It soon became clear that when old photographs were uploaded on the Memories Site, they became for all of us, an important emotional reminder of happy and sad times.  Just a glance at a photograph could bring to mind a story told, or created a virtual laugh, smile or even a tear.

Many of my vintage photographs had no information on the back, so this turned me into a detective and a researcher.  I used the amazing power of Google, to try and find out the approximate year a photograph was taken by looking carefully at clothes, hairstyles and places it was taken.

BUT, the most important memory that fades away for almost everyone is the face of loved ones that are no longer here, mam’s, dad’s, brother and sisters, bestest friends etc, it is here that the power of a photograph comes to the fore, even a faded, creased, and cracked one becomes a precious reminder of them.

So, what happened to Vintage Pitlass’ “faded, creased and cracked photographs?"  She took up a hobby and with some intense self-teaching with books and YouTube tutorials, taught herself how to restore old photographs.

My grandpa, Alfred Stafford in his WW1uniform

On here you will see the original photograph alongside a restored version, with its history.

As you will see some turned out well, some mediocre, and others, sadly are too far gone to do much with, but my motto is “it is always worth a try”.