This article was first published in the West Sussex Gazette on November 2nd 1995.

Fascinating stories of Arundel's past have come to light in reminiscences from a former resident now living in Peterborough. Ron Greenwood (74) waxes lyrical about the 'old days', starting with 1921, the year he was born at 2, Surrey Wharf.

'My brother Jim was born there seven years later, so that makes us both mullets of course. My father, Bill Greenwood, was not an Arundelian, but my mother, Dorothy, was, also being born there. Her maiden name was Wilkins.

'My grandfather, William Wilkins, was the miller who ran the windmill that still stands on the east bank of the Arun, not far from where the A27 now crosses it. Corn was last ground there in the early 1920s. I cannot remember now the exact year as I was quite young but a terrible storm smashed all of the sweeps and the Bartlett family that owned the mill decided not to have it repaired as mechanisation was upon us and so my grandfather carried on the milling at a steam operated mill behind the White Swan.

The old Arundel bridge photographed in the early 1900s, with the end of miller William Wilkins' corn store just visible on the left of the picture.

'This was so different to me. I did remember the gentle creak of the wood mechanism of the windmill and the soft sigh of the wind and now we had so much more noise with the steam engine and the great big flapping leather belts driving the mill. I was not supposed to go there on orders from my mother because of the danger. Needless to say I did and both grandfather and me got into hot water.

'A few years later, milling came to an end, grandfather retired and his big corn store, which stood on the town bank of the Arun next to the old bridge and opposite Wise's shop, was sold to a firm that made deck chairs and similar goods.

'One Saturday afternoon it caught fire. I heard the alarm and ran to see the town brigade with their four-horse drawn Merryweather steam pump arrive, as did the Duke's brigade from the castle, their appliance being drawn by four dashing greys. Later, another brigade arrived either from Littlehampton or Worthing. It was hopeless with all that wood and canvas. It burnt to the ground.

'I still have a moment of that event, a large wooden bobbin wound with the thread used to stitch the canvas. It now holds the line for my late father's plumb bob. He retrieved the bobbin from the ashes.

'Tinder-box': Originally Wilkins' corn store before being used as a deckchair factory, the blazing warehouse was gutted in 1930 despite attempts by Arundel's two fire brigades to extinguish the flames with water pumped from the River Arun. Note the hose immersed in the river from the smoke-belching steam pump (on left of picture.)

'The site was cleared and it would seem fortuitously so, as a little later work commenced to strengthen the piers of the bridge so the contractors were able to use it for their plant. For many weeks our ears were assailed with the thump of the steam hammer on a crane driving interlocking steel piles into the river bed to divert the flow of water away from bridge piers. This was a difficult and dangerous job and I think I am right in saying that at least two men were drowned falling into the water and lost in the swirl created by the piles, apart from the fact that the Arun is one of the fastest flowing rivers in the world.

'Much later, the site used by the contractors was cleared, levelled and slabbed. Planted with flowers in season it was quite pleasant to rest on the seats positioned there and look at the flow of the Arun.'

Next week, Ron recollections include another fire at Arundel and a tale of two confidence tricksters

This article was first published in the West Sussex Gazette on November 2nd 1995.