The Hotel the bomb destroyed.

Mr. Loveley's premises, The Albion Temperance & Commercial Hotel that stood at the corner of James Street and West Street. Mr. Loveley's two daughters were killed by a bomb dropped by a German plane in World War Two which destroyed the hotel.
For more on this story see Bombing and civilian deaths in world war two in the October 2012 section of this blog.
 

Christmas 1914.

The following letter was sent by Private M. Rivett of the "C" Company, 2nd. Lincolns, to his wife at 9, Orchard Street, Boston in 1914.

"Just a few lines to let you know that I am still keeping well. I hope baby and yourself are the same. Well, this is Christmas Day, and we are having a nice day, quite enjoying ourselves. Not a shot is being fired, as far as we can hear. It is a mutual armistice and our Battallion is out of the trenches for a short spell.
I suppose the Germans are quite as pleased as us to have a quiet day, in fact, it was told to us this morning by several of our officers, who had been to the trenches, that our men met the Germans half way between the trenches, exchanged greetings, gave them cigarettes etc., and had quite a friendly meeting. Of course, only a few of each met, and without arms.
We had a fine dinner, boiled chicken, potatoes, turnips, leeks, topped up by a pound of fine plum pudding, with rum sauce. Not bad, was it? Tonight we are having a concert round the camp fire, in fact, they have just started. During the day we had football matches, with a new ball, sent by some kind friends. So you see it takes a lot to upset our men, or make us forget Christmas.
But what a change tomorrow. Our battallion will be in the trenches. Peace and goodwill forgotten, each man will be trying his best to pick off one or more of the enemy. But all will be different next Christmas, for something must soon give way under the great strain, and I am confident it will not be the Allies side of the trenches. It is splendid to watch our flying men go over the Germans lines, for they never turn back until they see what they go for. I saw one machine have at least thirty shells fired at it. Some of them were very close, too, and each moment I expected him to be brought down. But we were very pleased to see him fly back again. This is quite true.
The officer just told us that this morning the Germans sang their National Anthem,and our men responded with "Rule Britannia," which was encored by the Germans and sang again. One German said to one of our officers, "You will be here only a few days now, we have crushed the Russians." Our officer said, "But I can tell you a different tale. The German army has been badly beaten by the Russians." The German replied, "Why should I believe you any more than you believe me?" So you see they are still confident, and not yet beaten. The truth of this is vouched for by several of our officers.
I received your parcel, one from Mrs. Wallesley, and the one from the Boston papers. Thank all who sent me things, and Hannah for the pudding."

Ron Diggins.

A few years ago Ron Diggins was officially named the world's first disc jockey by specialist music-mixing journal DJ Magazine.

Ron was a professional radio engineer with a business in Boston providing public address systems

"I'd been playing background music and doing voice-overs out the back of my van at school sports days and the like," he told the Boston Standard. "It was nothing to do with dancing – that was the last thing on my mind." But in September 1947, the farm girls from the Swineshead Land Army decided Ron’s gear could be put to better use: "They were passing the office, saw the van and came in to ask if it could be used for dancing. They were having a harvest supper with some of the Italian POWs. Well, I'd never thought of it before, but I didn't want to lose the booking – so I said I'd give it a go."

"Back then there was just the waltz, the quick-step and the Palais glide – and I always ended up with the National Anthem," he explained. "It was unheard of at the time to play records at a dance and it just took off from there – although I had no idea how things would snowball."

Ron’s 78s proved wildly popular, no doubt because his record selections gave audiences slightly grander music than they were used to. "When I started out, the ordinary village halls danced to live piano and drums – that's all. If it was something extra special, they'd have a violin as well."

Three ladies enjoying Ron's music.

In 1949 he built his famous ‘Diggola’ a wonderful art deco mobile DJ booth modelled on the bandstands of the jazz era. The first of six, it came complete with double decks for 78s, a home-made mixer, lights, microphone, amplifier and ten speakers. "It took me about six weeks to build the first Diggola. We couldn't get plywood in those days, so soon after the war. So I had to make it out of coffin boards."

Ron's Hillman Estate Mobile Disco.

In the ’50s Ron Diggin's fame had spread so widely around south Lincolnshire that he had to hire two other DJs to keep up with his bookings. His success angered the Musicians’ Union, who used their clout to prevent him playing larger venues. So sadly, though he’d set his heart on it, Ron never played Boston’s Gliderdrome. He retired in 1995 after playing around 20,000 parties. The most he ever charged was £50.

"I've invented nothing," he insisted on his 90th birthday. "I put the same things to a different use, that's all."

Miscellaneous

Miscellaneous Pictures.

Demolition of livestock pens, Bargate, 1974.

Bottle from the Eagle Brewery, Boston.

The Bath Gardens and old General Hospital.

Potato weigher, made in Boston.

T.V. detector in Tower Street.

Strait Bargate, 1964.

Building the Starlight Rooms, 1960's.

Boston Station, 1962.

32, Market Place, near where the Waterfront pub is now.

Advert for Wright's garage, Wide Bargate.

The Ferry from Skirbeck Road to Edwin Street, off High Street.

The livestock pens and bull ring in Wide Bargate, the Red Cow pub is in the distance.

The Merseybeats 'down the dance' in the 1960's.

Middlecott Almshouses, demolished in 1966. Middlecott Close was built on the site.

The Market Place,1914. Recruiting for World War One.

Boston & District Ploughing Society celebrations, unknown date.

The Corn Exchange.

The corner of Stanbow Lane and Pinfold Lane in 1964.

The old Drill Hall, near the present day Matalan store.

The Boston Coat of Arms.

Early Fire brigade, outside the Municipal Buildings, West Street.

The Lord Nelson Field. (where Nelson Way is now)

Unexploded bomb outside Cammacks shop, Wide Bargate in 1940.

A room of the Whale Inn showing a mosaic of a whale in 1971.

Cheer's shop in West Street.

Soldiers in West Street, returning from the Boer War.

The last commercial sailing ship to leave Boston Dock (Danish).

Blackfriars in 1856.

The old St. Botolph's Church bellringers.

27, Wormgate in 1910.

Where the Waterfront pub is now.

Arme's down West Street.

Strait Bargate in the 1980's.

Bedford's Mill, where the Pizza Hut car park is now on Fydell Crescent.



One of our aircraft is missing

One of Our Aircraft is Missing (parts of which were filmed in Boston) is a 1942 British war film that was made under the authority of the Ministry of Information. It begins dramatically with the crash of "B for Bertie", a  Wellington bomber whose crew were forced to bail out over Holland after one of their engines was damaged during a night time raid on Stuttgart. It goes on to tell the story of how they are helped by the Dutch resistance.Many of the outdoor scenes set in Holland were filmed at Boston (as in 1942 the Germans still occupied the Netherlands) and many of the town's landmarks are visible in the film for example the quaysides, the Railway Swing Bridge (below) and the Church house at the top of Wormgate.