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Dereliction and Redevelopment
Demolition
The filling shops with thick concrete walls were blown up with three powerful
explosions as demolition began.After four years of negotiations, research,
planning, consultation and preparation, advance notice was given of the date
when work was to begin, so that the people living nearby were well prepare.
On 3rd January 1990 demolition began, very appropriately, with three loud
bangs. The bomb and shell filling shops with their thick concrete walls had
to be blown up with explosives. Work had hardly started when Frank Kerry was
confronted with the first and only real problem encountered during the project:
“The telephones went mad. Someone had seen bats flying out of the buildings (they are a protected species and it is illegal to destroy a bat roost). They were going to serve an injunction to stop us. Oh it was a riot, which went on even on Saturday and Sunday. A bat specialist toured all the buildings and found one or two bats but no colony. He suggested we should build a hibernaculum and try to attract them back.”
When the static water tanks were emptied by the fire brigade the firemen realised they were pumping out newts, including the rare and protected Great Crested Newt. Pumping ceased until all the newts had been removed to a wetland nature reserve. After that the noise and disturbance were so great the wild life disappeared.
Two
nissen huts, out of a row of ten, await demolition. Behind them, the skeleton
roofs remain on the large hangers until the machine known as ‘Jaws’
cuts through the beams (RSJs)People living nearby watched the clearance
and demolition with great interest. Bernard Slack and his son were regular
spectators:
“You’ve never seen anything like it. They had a track vehicle that came along with a massive pair of shears in the air, and it cut right through R.S.J.’s (reinforced steel joists) in the largest hangers. They would weaken one end then do the same at the other end, and the whole roof would come crashing down in a load of dust.”
Other fascinated observers nick-named the amazing machine ‘Jaws.’ The large elevator and crushing machine which made hardcore for the paths from the bricks and other materials also attracted great interest.
The demolition stage of the project included both earthworks and the creation of five and a half miles of footpaths. When the buildings had been demolished, and the security fence removed and the site levelled it looked bare and featureless. Most of the mounds were towards Asher Lane and concealed by Fowemer Hill which was itself raised by 8 metres. From the South Gate on the perimeter lane there was a clear view of the whole of Ruddington to the north and of Loughborough Road to the west.
Looking north to Ruddington from the South Gate on perimeter lane across a
featureless landscape. The demolition is complete, the fence removed and the
site levelled.While the operation was in progress, a self confessed
‘nosey-parker’ ventured onto the site when work had finished one
day, to see what was going on:
“It was amazing. You couldn’t tell where you were. It was like going for a moon walk. You had to steer by Ruddington church to find your way.”
On sunny days those with good eyesight could tell the time on the church clock nearly a mile away. Some people were disappointed by the bleak featureless expanse and made comments such as:
“Ugh. It’s as flat as a pancake,” or “Well it looks just like a North American prairie to me,” or even “I never thought they’d make anything of it. Those plans were just a con.”
Only a few short lengths of two ancient hedges and a small number of well-grown bushes were spared by the bulldozers, but amidst the morass of mud, a patch of turf was left undisturbed. It was only 3 – 4 metres square and had been safely cordoned off because it contained a colony of bee orchids. They survived and this rare and attractive plant has spread quite widely over the wildflower meadows.
The Story > Chapter 9 > Section 9.06