Like many other people in their seventh decade, I am haunted by the spectre of how good things used to be. This story is based on my experience of returning to Littleborough, a small northern 'settlement' in the foothills of the Pennines. We've been away for about twenty-five years. However, many of my observations can equally refer to other northern towns. Similar places, similar transitions. Evidence of our industrial powerhouse heritage has been savagely razed, replaced by estate housing and the swamping of green space by a tsunami of concrete and brick. Though many environmental changes cannot be glossed over, we are ultimately saved by the spirit, humour and pride of the people who live up here. My friends. Oh, and don't take what I say too much to heart, it's meant to be a bit of fun after all. This little book is dedicated to the memories of times gone by and for tomorrow.
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