Les Ladner, born in 1943 during the wartime period, grew up in rural Cornwall. His father was a strong presence in his life. His grandfather worked at the Levant Mine and ran a local mill, embodying the strong working traditions of the area. Life was simple and practical—during floods, the family left doors open to let water run right through the house. Les shared memories of his grandmother, a stern woman always dressed in black with a white blouse and hat, moving in after his parents died.
Les spent his early years in Haymore, which at the time was a bustling village full of small businesses and community spirit. The family later moved to Penponds after being offered a farm, and Les remembers a childhood of playing in woods, building dams in the river, and helping with farm chores. His father was particularly skilled with cattle, often tending them late into the night. Cornish life was full of practical traditions—he remembers the Morrison shelter covered with a tablecloth, and the stillness of the roads in 1948. The village felt safe, friendly, and rooted in shared routines and stories.
Food played a central role in Les’s life and memories, often described using local dialect and phrases. He recalls “a big pot of stew with duff (dumplings) on the top,” always cooked in its own juices—“Don’t be putting gravy in a stew!” was a firm rule. Wartime scarcity meant his parents sometimes acquired food through less-than-legal means, including half a pig hung in the shed. He vividly remembers traditional dishes like brawn, knuckle pie, tripe, lard cake, and curly wurly pie made from pigs’ tails. Despite difficult times, food brought people together, and Sunday roasts stretched into meals for days.
