From farm to psalm

May a town arise here fair and lovely for the eye to see, noble in its proportions, majestic in its beauty, homely in its charm. May its houses be worthy homes for children of God, its schools true nurseries of wisdom, its industries such as will ennoble men's lives - The Rt Rev D C Dunlop, Bishop of Jarrow.

The Bishop was talking of Newton Aycliffe, of course, though to what extent that vision has been fulfilled is for others to determine.

It was Nov 9, 1948, Bishop Dunlop present to dedicate the new town's first house - 9 Clarence Green - after its keys were officially handed over. The population was still fewer than 100.

Two years later, the then unused Clarence Farm was made available to the Church of England and Fr Tom Drewette appointed the first curate-in-charge. He arrived at the old farmhouse with his wife, dog, cat, hens (appropriately) and a car called Dorcas. The hens' names appear not to have been recorded.

Five years later, on July 9, 1955, St Clare's parish church in the burgeoning town centre was dedicated after more sales of work than hard labour might ever have thought possible. One, opened in the early 1950s by the actress Valerie Hobson, had raised £750.

"Men had to keep moving round on those occasions or they'd have been sold as well," recalls Stan Harrison, a pioneer then and a pillar now.

"There was a woman who'd come from Bishop Auckland on the bus and bought so much stuff she'd give us another £1 to take her home again."

The church, reported The Northern Echo, cost £15,000 and was dedicated by the Rt Rev Michael Ramsey, a future Archbishop of Canterbury. Purchased from the Admiralty, the bell of HMS Prosperine cost a further £18 1s 5d and still hangs in the church.

The story immediately beneath it, that Monday morning in 1955, noted that the Egyptians were becoming entranced by a strain of hashish named after Marilyn Monroe.

Fifty years later, St Clare's gathered last weekend to mark the golden jubilee, the church building described at different times during the service as "unique", "beautiful" and "beloved" and having the further advantage of modern churches that the windows open. It was that sort of morning.

Among former St Clare's curates was the Rev Martin King, who recalled almost being blown off on his motorbike on his first visit in the 1960s. "It's always been like a breath of fresh air, always a sense of energy and buoyancy about the place,"

It was a love affair furthered by the fact that he married the vicar's daughter from the adjoining parish.

Peter Baldwin had been Vicar from 1990-97, served in several other Co Durham parishes and is now chaplain to the Bishop of Horsham, who during that time led a fondly remembered mission to the town.

"I've never known a feeling in the church like it, it was absolutely on fire," recalled Marjorie Milling.

"He was going to come back and do another mission but they went and made him a bishop, instead."

Peter himself had been fearfully ill, if not cheating death then pulling a few tricks on that ineluctable old spectre of which the Rev Harold Hall - a Newton Aycliffe predecessor who was also a member of the Magic Circle - might have been proud.

After pioneering facial surgery - "I'm not a cancer victim, I'm a cancer survivor" - he ditched his Church Commissioners' pension and returned to full time ministry. "I have to have a check in a year and if I'm all clear then they say I'll live for ever," he told St Clare's, adding a little hurriedly that he would, of course, anyway.

Peter's sermon otherwise was about Franciscan spirituality - "living joyfully, sharing compassionately, dying well."

Stan Harrison, a former churchwarden, recalled how Fr Drewette - known as The Man in Black because he was rarely seen without his cassock, frayed at the bottom through much walking across building sites - would visit every family as they arrived on, never in, the new town. They also had a "brick fund", stalwarts like Lucy Coates weekly knocking on doors to collect what became known as the brick envelope and Fr Drewette every day visiting the site of his new church faithfully to count them.

Mrs Coates, who afterwards cut the cake, recalled other fund raising initiatives but declined, despite the most gentle Sabbath morning persuasion, to reveal; just how the faithful few had done it. I don't think it can be broadcast, not even now. I don't think anyone else will know about it.

"We were only a very small congregation and none of us was rich, I can tell you. A lot of it was done by faith, let's just say that."

Congregations grew steadily, the church halls were extended. Families met on Friday evenings, the bairns allowed a late night and a record player and perhaps back the following morning for a film show and a free bag of crisps.

There were jobs at factories like Bakelite, talk of up to £20 a week and rent to the fancy dan Development Corporation.

"When you think about it," said Stan Harrison, "you took away the church in the early days of Newton Aycliffe and there was hardly anywhere else to go. It was a thrill to watch it grow."

Fifty years later, the Rev Linda Potter is Team Rector not just of the four churches in the Great Aycliffe parish but of Chilton, too, Great Aycliffe presumably having been thought not quite great enough.

The mayors of both Chilton and Aycliffe attended.

"We're trying to be a church for today," said Linda. "We're looking at ways how best we can use our resources, to try to understand what our mission here means."

It was a most enjoyable service and the most perfect summer Sunday, possible to believe on strolling back through that rather unmajestic town centre that God was in his heaven and that Bishop Dunlop's prayers had been answered after all.

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