Letters, Saturday, September 28, 2013

Have your say

Saving from library closures is paltry

I HAVE the privilege of living next door to a local library at Fulwell.

 I can see every detail of its roof from my lounge window, and since my wife and I moved here some two years ago, it has afforded me a ready source of reading material.

 As a child being brought up in South East London, you couldn’t have been in a more depressing and dangerous place. Over the years the area changed with more housing, schools and shops – a right little community – a community that cared about each other.

 I remember one day my mum and dad taking me along to a building that was to provide me with the starting point of my life. You’ve probably guessed it – the local library. This is where the giants lived, pirates sailed the seven seas and children sailed in little yachts playing at pirates in somewhere called the Lake District.

 This was the place where I learnt to write properly. My handwriting was appalling and I taught myself the basics of calligraphy from books. Books, those mighty keys to the secrets of the universe.

 My first library ticket has stayed with me as one of my strongest memories.

 To this day, I think the establishment of these institutions was an inspirational move – for some it was the start of lifelong learning, but it appears that Sunderland has other ideas for these community hubs, a meeting place for ideas to form, meet people and discuss all sorts of things.

 A saving of £800,000 has been mentioned – yet nothing seems to happen in Sunderland that doesn’t cost the members of the public money.

 We keep hearing of the money wasted on the development of the Vaux site, development of what appears to be a white elephant Software City, some daft wooden pods to go up and down the seafront. Sunderland Gateway – where from and where to? “See It, Do It!” – do what and where?

 I feel that the libraries should stay open and the money saved in other ways such as misapplied consultations and feasibilty studies on things that never see the light of day.

 Some of the libraries are attractive places to look at and visit, others perhaps more modern have the facilities to become computer literate as well as borrow books.

 The pros for the continuation of library usage goes on and, in my opinion, far outweighs the paltry amount of savings already mentioned.

 Keep learning, keep reading and keep communicating.

David Warden,


Staff were great

I WOULD like to praise Sunderland Royal Hospital.

 During my recent stay in Ward D43 and D42, I had nothing but praise for all the staff. The care and attention given to me was brilliant. The food was also first class.

 Thank you all for making my comfortable.

 God bless you all.

Eric Dryden

Reward for loyalty

I OFTEN read with amusement Mick the Pen letters but don’t always agree with his comment.

 However, after reading his letter about The Fans Losing Out (September 12); I totally agree with his views.

 My son and I are also season ticket holders and have been for many years. We have also remarked on the fact that we never get any discounts/rewards for being loyal supporters, something which also annoys us.

 I thought Sunderland FC was once known as the caring club – obviously not.

 Do they care about long serving loyal supporters or just about putting bums on seats?

 True supporters deserve to be rewarded for their loyalty.

J Smith,


Looking for family

I WOULD like to hear from anyone who might be able to help me find out information about my family in Sunderland.

 Ethel Henderson was born August 6, 1887, at South Bishopwearmouth. Her mother was Elizabeth Henderson (nee Oliphant), her father William Henderson and they were married on June 19, 1879 in Sunderland.

 Williams’s father was George Robert Henderson, who was an artist. Elizabeth’s father was William Oliphant and he was a mason.

 Ethel Henderson married Joseph Chantry on October 15, 1909, in Scotter, Lincolnshire.

 My address is 36A Well Street, Scunthorpe, North Lincolnshire, DN15 6HJ. Tel. 07804 238119

Tanya Ross