[Jingling Geordie]

I managed to get to visit this Station which was on the Buntingford Branch Line and met the owner of the property. He was the son of the last Station Master. Part of the station is occupied by his son and he the rest.

The station can be viewed on Nick Catford's web site.

A Station Master’s Son.

The German’s bombs so frightened mum
That dad, us from Colchester, moved.
To rural backwater sad and glum
Called Braughing. I wasn’t amused.

A boy of nine does as he’s told,
I just counted the days away.
Till I was adult, mature, old.
Nineteen was when I had my say.

“I will live life with abandon.
No Railway Station can hold me.”
Went off down the road to Standon
So mum could still do my laundry.

Passengers went in sixty-three.
Goods lasted another few years
No one outside other than me
For the lost line shed any tears

Mum and dad in the station house
Long after the railway had gone.
Father went first, quiet as a mouse,
Mother somehow seemed to hold on.

Mum died, empty the station stood.
I went and made a rash purchase
I’m back in my old home for good.
Old bird midst his much loved perches.

JG2008