A rosey view of the past.

I met a young fellow in the Silverton Inn last night who seemed to think that in the past, which in his case seems to be about five years ago, he was only nineteen after all, there was some golden age when youth respected their elders and we lived in a land of peace and contentment. I am afraid he had to be seriously put straight on these rather odd ideas by having it pointed out to him that Silverton was never some idyllic backwater and that the very pub he was standing in had been smashed up by some of the locals in 1968 leading to the rapid departure of the then proprietor after only a fortnight and that the village hall which used to dtand just over the street had been the scene of frequent disturbances when dances and discos were held. We had to also patiently try to explain to him that Exeter, although it might well have its problems, was not stab capital of Britain, especially when compared to cities like Glasgow. Unfortunately, it seemed that he was not to be reasoned with on these matters.

Whilst it might not be unusual to find older people with such ideas it really does show up some basic lack of knowledge of the basic social history of the area that you live in when you come out with stuff like this. I put it down, largely, to the fact that there is such a large turnover of population in villages in places like Silverton that so many people here now have almost no knowledge that they are able to pass on to young people about the places they live in.