THERE cannot be many people who were brought up in the 1950s in the grounds of an old workhouse.

One such was Ian Warner, the only child of Mr and Mrs Warner who ran St Johns in Junction Road from 1949 to 1981.

Mrs Frances Warner (SRN) was the matron and Mr Jack Warner (ex RAF pilot — DFC) was the warden.

Ian’s mother was in charge of all the nursing supervision and his father was responsible for the overall administration including finance, wages, catering, domestic problems and a large laundry which serviced all the county’s homes for the elderly and blind.

Sadly Ian’s father died from cancer two years after retirement.

There are three photos in Look Back at Andover (published by the Andover History and Archaeology Society) and in two of them he was smoking.

In the 1950s it was not known that smoking caused cancer.

I have hobby engineer books (American) in my loft and on the back page of many there is an advert for cigarettes saying, ’90 per cent of doctors recommend Marlboro’ — believe it!

Between the age of two and six Ian actually lived in part of the old workhouse until a house was built for the family within the grounds, in 1953.

St Johns looked after old people with various medical needs and some evicted families.

At one time there were 110 beds in the welfare section alone.

There was also a low hospital building which also admitted local old people.

Being in the same class as Ian at East Street school we became friends at 10-yearsold and I sometimes visited him at home.

On one occasion he was outside and had a baited garden sieve propped-up with a stick with a long length of string, where he was trying to trap sparrows, only to release them again.

Another time he was inside the house kneeling on the carpet trying to revive a fledgling bird.

Sometimes, after school at 4pm, we would walk to his home through the front door of the old workhouse and just inside on the left would be maybe six piles of beautiful, freshly made, quartered sandwiches nearly three feet high for the residents. We were allowed to take a few.

The staff were always so pleased to see Ian and I did not realise at the time that the long-term helpers had seen him grow from a toddler to a schoolboy — later to a youth.

I only found out recently that he actually lived in the workhouse building.

I lost contact with Ian after school days. He would have been 34-years-old when his parents retired from their situation.

Some older Andover people may remember three or four male residents standing by the wall outside the clinic opposite, taking in the fresh air, watching the world go by and talking to passing pedestrians.

They were smartly dressed and looked well provided for.

Old people’s flats, later built in the grounds, were named Warner Court in honour of Ian’s parents.

I have not seen Ian for maybe 45 years (I am 71-yearsold).

I last saw him under a conker tree at the bottom of Station Approach.

John Porter would have known him well, being in the same schools together for ten years or more.

Maybe he will contact me after this letter.

I believe he held a high position in the Reading Fire Service but cannot confirm this.

I am certain he left Andover.

There must be someone in Andover still in touch with him.

Derek Weeks, Martin Way, Andover.