Goldie Levy's Story
At eleven years of age, I won a scholarship to Barrett Street Junior
College in London.
We were evacuated to Maidenhead, Berks, England.
I am now living in the US, and I would like to get in touch with other
women who were boarded with me in Maidenhead.
I was in the dress-making section. There were tailors, embroiderers, and
Matron was in charge of our wellbeing, and some of the teachers lived with us
I would like to corrspond with any women who remember this experience.
With fondest memories of the rowdy times we shared,and the
rationing that we put up with.
I married a GI. He was the cousin of my cousin Sid's wife in Leeds, who had
come to visit them. He was from Rochester NY. All my friends had come
here to America, and this was the answer for me. I was very young, and had
been away from London all the war years.
Another story. I went back to London many times, taking the children with me.
I didn't really adjust to Rochester. I thought it was another planet.
Would I do it again? No. But, then who knows what else could have been.
I'm happily married again, and now living in Virginia, which I prefer.
Meeting Gerry and Martha was a "hi-light."
I think we all have stories within stories, which alone could make a book.
I remember waiting outside Myrdle St at 5 a.m, with my mum and younger brother
. Sept.1st. Bus to Baker St. station. Bewildered why Mum wasn't coming with us,
but knowing I had to look after Ralph. Loaded down with knapsacks and gas
masks (I think) with Ralph on my lap, crying. Arriving at Chorley Wood, we all
sat on the grass at the Florence Brown Hall, eating enormous slabs of chocolate.
People came and chose who they wanted (just like slavery).We were the last.
Finally, Sylvia Mendel and I were billeted with a Colonel and Mrs. Boyd.
Ralph was sent to another billet. The Boyd's were as kind as could be expected,
but we were too confused by the whole experience. We ate in the kitchen with
the cook. On Sundays we had green tea with the Boyd's in the dining room.
There were large windows in the lounge with heavy velvet curtains that we hid
behind. Draping silk Indian shawls around us, from a voluminous selection in
an old sea trunk Pretending we were dancing in a film.