Early Days

In the mid-1920s there was a Station Master, a Booking Clerk, 3 Porters, 2 Signalmen, a Ganger, and 3 or 4 Platelayers. They were all first class railwaymen and took great pride in their jobs. The first train of the day to call at the station was about 6.30am and the last at about 10.30pm.

About 300 passengers a day used the station. First the 'early birds' buying their cheap rate workman's tickets. They were followed by the clerks with their weekly seasons, and the typists still combing their hair. Then followed the first-class passengers, usually wearing spats, who, by long established right came into the Booking Office, and stood with their backs to the fire, which was always made up with the best house coal available. In those days everyone knew and accepted their place in society, politeness and dignity were all important. The 'early birds' would address the staff by their first name, the clerks were 'Mr.', and the first class passengers would use their surnames only, as was appropriate. A well-known financier expected to be always addressed as 'Sir Arthur'. However, the wealthy occupant of Beaumanor Hall, the Hon. Curzon-Herrick, a keen supporter of the line, whenever at a loose end often popped down to the station for a chat.

At Bank Holidays came hundreds of visitors for the beauty spots of Woodhouse Eaves. In the evening they flooded back into the station, emptied the slot machines, dangled their legs over the edge of the platform and squashed into the trains. The last train at night sometimes had the difficult passengers. Now and then the drunk, or the party girls who had been experiencing the delights of the Woodhouse Eaves pubs. Giggling their way onto the platform, shoes in hand after the long walk, searching their handbags - "Can't find my ticket". They all got on the train eventually.