HEXHAM STORY ARCHIVE
Penny
I am …
I am from dry hot dust and human voices singing.
I am from the knuckle shaped hills and political discussion.
I am from a rolling landscape of rolling consonants,
From dinner pasties,
From I’ll tell your father when he gets home.
I am an artist and musician who gets paid
I am from dry hot dust and human voices singing.
I am from the knuckle shaped hills and political discussion.
I am from a rolling landscape of rolling consonants,
From dinner pasties,
From I’ll tell your father when he gets home.
I am an artist and musician who gets paid
“Hair today and tomorrow"
Again and again the nasty young bullies in the park hanging around near the playground, have me in their sights with their monocultural view of community and fashion. They HATE my hair. They call me a slag and worse, they insult all that my wild hair represents. What can I do? This is a small town and they have crossed over a line that means they would do anything. They know where I live. I am old enough to be their mother, perhaps they hate their mothers too. I have to decide everyday when the weather is alright for hanging around the park whether they will be there and how shall I walk into town. I live on the park, a detour is a deliberate act. I will not be a victim in this but the situation is intractable, perhaps they will grow up, although grown men in Newcastle insult me too. Perhaps it is the deep need for women to know their place that provokes their offensive behavior. Sleek hair rules in the media.
These boys did grow up, left, went to prison! The fad for sleek haired subsided. I now live freely in my town with my extravagant locks. Some years later I recognized the main offender in the street. He was walking up the hill with a friend. I knew that I recognized him but chose not to cross the road. He started on me although he was now an adult and before I could say anything his friend told him to stop. He did what I could never do. It has stopped. Now I am complemented for my hair, mainly by older people who are losing theirs.
These boys did grow up, left, went to prison! The fad for sleek haired subsided. I now live freely in my town with my extravagant locks. Some years later I recognized the main offender in the street. He was walking up the hill with a friend. I knew that I recognized him but chose not to cross the road. He started on me although he was now an adult and before I could say anything his friend told him to stop. He did what I could never do. It has stopped. Now I am complemented for my hair, mainly by older people who are losing theirs.
A time I felt saddest in Hexham…
When my mother died. She committed suicide. I was in a state of shock and disorientation and people that I know accepted my behavior. I worked in Hexham at that time and although I suspect I was entirely useless at my job I still went to work as I couldn’t be alone. It was too painful. I became aware that my colleagues were keeping an eye on my work and rectifying my mistakes without saying a word.
A time I felt afraid in Hexham…
I was afraid of my neighbor for 7 years. He was a criminal who dealt drugs and terrorized people with his vicious dogs and his air riffle. His dogs barked all night long. The police knew about his anti-social behavior but he outsmarted them until one day he set his dog on another dog in the park. The injured dog belonged to a superintendent of police who had just moved to Hexham. There is a God. We live in peace and safety now.
A place that has meaning for me in Hexham…
The Tap and Spile pub. Centre of music, sessions, parties and friendship. We joke that I should have a bed in the pub even though I don’t drink!
A time I felt happiest in Hexham…
Now, playing music with my friends and the band.