Background
The Village Hall on Cross Street, a cornerstone of community gatherings and events for more than a century, now confronts the harsh reality of structural decay. The 2018 refurbishment proposal document (2018 – Village Hall Refurb Proposal), a document once filled with potential and promise, has been rendered inert by the unforeseen degradation of the building’s steel framework, particularly on its left side, which now poses a significant risk to the structure’s integrity.
The Parish Council, in their role as custodians of the community’s assets, had successfully obtained the necessary approvals from the Secretary of State for Housing, Communities & Local Government, securing a loan from the Public Works Loan Board. This loan, amounting to £149,990 and repayable over a twenty-year period, was intended to finance the much-needed restoration of the hall. However, the annual repayment of £9,692.08, a sum that was not to be offset by an increased tax precept, has become insufficient as the council faces the additional expenses brought about by the hall’s structural issues.
The current state of the Village Hall is a stark reminder of the challenges that small communities face in preserving their historical landmarks. It highlights the delicate balance that must be struck between maintaining the legacy of the past and managing the financial realities of the present. The unexpected structural defects have not only halted progress but have also brought to light the complexities involved in such preservation efforts.
As the hall stands, a silent witness to the passage of time and the memories it holds, the community of Cross Street is at a crossroads. The Parish Council’s decisions, made in the context of these new challenges, reflect the ongoing commitment to the community’s heritage and the determination to overcome the obstacles that stand in the way of the hall’s restoration.
The unfolding situation at the Village Hall is more than just a matter of architectural concern; it reflects the community’s spirit, and its collective will to maintain a space that has been a focal point of communal life for generations. The hall, with its peeling paint and creaking floorboards, continues to hold a place in the hearts of the residents, a symbol of shared experiences and the hope for a revitalised future.
The Village Hall project, while currently one of uncertainty and concern, is also a testament to the resilience of the community and its unwavering dedication to its cultural and historical identity. The hall’s plight has galvanised the people of Bilsthorpe, uniting them in a common cause to preserve a cherished part of their collective history.
The Parish Council’s financial strategy, devised to navigate the hall’s refurbishment without imposing additional burdens on the taxpayers, now faces the test of these unforeseen complications. The council’s ability to adapt to these new circumstances and find a path forward will be crucial in determining the hall’s fate.
The dilemma as it unfolded was a choice between costly rejuvenation and the stark reality of obsolescence. The Parish Council, protectors of neighbourhood assets, grappled with a refurbishment quote that is soared past half a million pounds—a sum that threatened to eclipse the very notion of fiscal prudence. With a projected lifespan that barely brushes two decades, the council’s verdict was to explore fresh avenues.
The council’s landholdings presented a trio of possibilities: the historical Cross Street site, the green expanse of Maid Marion Park, and the youth-frequented Crompton Road Skate Park. The Miners Welfare, guardians of a potential site on The Crescent, were approached about a joint project but alongside the Coal Industry Social Welfare Organisation, remain unmoved by overtures for development.
Amidst this search, the Bilsthorpe Miners Heritage Museum, nestled within the Cross Street site, faces its own quandary. The museum, which pays a nominal rent for its current abode in the old squash courts, must scout for a new home should demolition and sale become the chosen path.
In a twist of fate, the Parish Council’s hands are warmed by a grant from the UK Shared Prosperity Fund, a sum of £55,000 earmarked for the project definition of a village hub to succeed the aging hall. This financial infusion, however, comes with a ticking clock—use it or lose it by March 2025, before the government’s fiscal magnifying glass scrutinises the ledger anew. The council stands at a pivotal moment, charting a course that will redefine the village’s communal spirit for generations to come.
The Presentation – The Stoneman Empire
Chris Morton, the Regeneration Officer at Newark, and Sherwood District Council, has been spearheading the Village Hall Project with a keen eye on innovation and community needs. The recent session shed light on the diverse options considered for the project’s relocation, setting aside Cross Street, The Crescent’s Miners Welfare, and Maid Marion Park. The spotlight now shines on the Crompton Road Skate Park, earmarked as the future site for a vibrant village hub.
This project is not just about erecting walls and roofs; it is about creating a nucleus for community life, a place where connections are forged, and local culture thrives. It is a forward-thinking approach to urban development, where the traditional concept of a village hall is reimagined for contemporary society.
The Royal Institute of British Architects’ Plan of Work is the guiding framework for this ambitious project. It is a comprehensive roadmap that architects and planners follow to ensure that every phase of the project, from conception to completion, adheres to the highest standards of design and functionality.
The new village hub aims to be more than a mere gathering place; it envisions being a catalyst for growth and a beacon of communal harmony. It is a place where the young and old can come together, where ideas are exchanged, and where the spirit of the village is both preserved and rejuvenated.
As the park accommodates construction, it symbolises a transition, a metamorphosis of space that reflects the evolving needs and aspirations of the community. It is a testament to the district council’s commitment to fostering a dynamic and inclusive environment for all residents.
The Village Hall Project is a microcosm of the broader societal shift towards spaces that are multifunctional, sustainable, and integral to the fabric of community life. It is a bold step into the future, one that honours the past while embracing the possibilities of tomorrow.
And at the helm of this transformative journey is the meticulous RIBA Plan of Work, ensuring that each step is taken with precision and purpose. It is the backbone of the project, providing structure and clarity to the vision that Chris Morton and his team are diligently bringing to life.
So, as the Village Hall Project progresses, it is not just about the physical structure that will rise from the grounds of Crompton Road Skate Park. It is about the stories that will unfold within its walls, the laughter that will echo in its halls, and the legacy it will create for generations to come. It is about building a home for the village spirit, where every brick is laid with intention and every corner is crafted with care.
Embarking on the journey of creating a building is no small feat; it is an intricate dance of vision and practicality, woven through a series of progressive stages that the RIBA Plan of Work lays out.
- It kicks off with the Strategic Definition, where dreams start taking a tangible shape, as you sketch out the project’s soul and assess if the stars align for your architectural aspirations.
- Then, you dive into Preparation and Briefing, where you lay down the law of the land, carving out the project’s backbone, setting the stage for what is to come.
- Next, you are in the throes of Concept Design, where creativity bursts forth like a geyser, and you are mapping out possibilities, playing with spaces as if they are putty in your hands. This is where the magic happens, where ideas sprout wings and take flight.
- As you pivot to Spatial Coordination, you are the maestro, orchestrating the symphony of spaces, ensuring every inch sings in harmony with your design narrative.
- Technical Design is where you roll up your sleeves; it is the details, the practical details of your grand plan. Here, you are detailing the dream, drafting the blueprints that will guide the creation from paper to pavement.
- Manufacturing and Construction is where the rubber meets the road, the stage where concepts are crafted into concrete reality, where the building begins to rise, brick by brick, beam by beam.
- Then comes the Handover, the grand finale of construction, where you pass the baton, presenting the keys to a kingdom made of your own making.
- And finally, the Use stage, where the building breathes its first, where it is not just a structure but a living, pulsing part of the urban fabric, serving its purpose, standing tall against the skyline.
Each stage is a stepping stone, a chapter in the delivery of a structure’s birth, from the spark of an idea to the final, proud edifice that claims its place in the world. It is a work of human ingenuity, a narrative of crafting not just buildings, but legacies. So, when you embark on this journey, remember, you are not just constructing walls; you are building dreams, shaping futures, and carving your mark on the horizon.
The venture’s initial phase has wrapped up, and now it is barrelling into the next chapter with a fresh, dynamic approach. Picture this: September 2024 rolls around, and stage two is not just finished, it is revolutionised the game. Fast forward to November, and stage three is not just checked off the list—it is setting new standards. By January 2025, stage four will have taken things to the next level, and come March, stage five will be the talk of the town, all before the clock ticks down on the UKSPF grant money.
Now, here is where it gets real—stages three and four are not just about ticking boxes. They are about diving deep into the heart of the community, stirring the pot, and sparking a dialogue with the villagers. This is not just a chance to glance over plans; it is a platform to voice your thoughts, loud and clear. It is about getting fired up, tossing in your two cents, and shaping the future.
So, gear up, get your game face on, and do not just be ready—be initiative-taking. This is your moment to make waves, challenge the status quo, and leave your mark. It is not about sitting back; it is about stepping up. So, when the time comes, do not just have an opinion—have a statement. Be bold, be brave, be heard. Because this, right here, is how you are effective. It is not just a project; it is a movement, and you are right at the forefront.
Imagine a place where the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the vibrant chatter of community life. This hub, still a blueprint of potential, teases with the promise of a cozy coffee corner, a fitness oasis tailored for the locals, and versatile rooms designed for gatherings, brainstorming, or simply a respite from the daily grind. Picture a space that also embraces history, allotting a niche for the Heritage Museum to share its treasures. The architectural vision is fluid, with a single-story structure at its heart, yet the whispers from the public sphere suggest a bold leap into a second story or an underground layer to expand its embrace.
Transitioning to the existing Skate Park, a transformation is on the horizon. It is not just a facelift; it is a renaissance. The plan is to infuse the children’s play area with the spirit of the village’s mining past, while also carving out a domain for all-weather sports—a versatile arena for athletes and amateurs alike. This is not just renovation; it is a reimagining of space as a canvas that reflects the community’s legacy and aspirations.
The financial blueprint for this ambitious project hovers around the £1.2 million mark—a figure that encapsulates not just the tangible bricks and mortar but also the intangible value of community spirit and heritage. This hub is not merely a building; it is a future landmark, a cornerstone for generations to come, and a testament to the village’s evolution. It is a dream under construction, a narrative in the making, and a legacy in the waiting. It is the heartbeat of the village, soon to pulsate with the rhythm of progress and the melody of local lore. It is where the past and future converge, creating a symphony of communal harmony.
Revamping Crompton Road Skate Park is a venture teeming with potential, yet it is not without its hurdles. Picture this: the park, once a sprawling expanse, now finds itself cocooned by an ever-growing cluster of homes, the bitter pill of the village’s expansion.
The financial aspect is a tricky skate to land – the Parish Council’s coffers are not exactly brimming, prompting a treasure hunt for grants. Imagine tapping into Sport England’s vault or weaving a financial accruement from diverse funding streams, all to avoid hiking up the local precept.
Now, let us talk access – it is a bit of a maze, really. Crompton Road, as it stands, is a no-go, choked up by the comings and goings at the Flying High Academy and parking by residents of the road. It is like trying to thread a needle during a rush hour. And Oldbridge Way and Sir Brian Way? Forget it. They are roads that time – and the County Council – forgot, leaving them unadopted.
So, what is the game plan? It is about mitigating risks, transforming challenges into stepping stones towards a skate park that is not just a concrete playground, but a hub of community and kinetic artistry. It is about envisioning a space where wheels can spin and spirits can soar, unfettered by the mundane constraints of budget sheets and bureaucratic red tape. It is about crafting a narrative of rejuvenation, of carving out a niche in the urban fabric where the youth can grind, flip, and fly, all in the name of sport and solidarity. This is not just about refurbishing a skate park; it is about reimagining a slice of the village’s soul.
The presentation concluded, and the air was immediately charged with the electric buzz of open commentary. It is as if a dam had burst, releasing a flood of pointed observations that spoke plainly. The collective voice of the attendees echoed a singular sentiment: the project team was misfiring, a glaring mismatch of roles and capabilities. They argued that there is a reservoir of keen minds and sharp talents out there, just waiting to be tapped into, rather than sticking with the current ensemble that has been less than stellar in their performance. Then came a daring pitch, one that suggested breathing new life into the old village hall, repurposing it for communal gatherings. Yet, this proposal blatantly overlooked the elephant in the room – the very real risk of the structure crumbling into ruins, potentially turning a community centre into a community hazard. The conversation took a retrospective turn, dredging up long-abandoned initiatives, projects that started with a bang but ended in a whimper, leaving a legacy of inertia that has been gathering dust for over twenty years. And as the session wound down, the murmurs grew into a crescendo of outright accusation, with pointed fingers aimed squarely at the PC Chairperson’s alleged grandiose designs. Whispers of ‘Empire Building’ hung in the air, painting a picture of personal ambition potentially clouding the greater good. The future of the Ross Stoneman Memorial Village Hub now teeters precariously, caught between the pull of community spirit and the push of alluded individual ambition, its destiny shrouded in a cloud of contention and unresolved debate.
In the waning moments of the presentation, the project team laid it out straight: the fate of the Crompton Road Skate Park hinged on the villagers’ voices. If a chorus of ‘nays’ echoed during the public consultation, it was back to the drawing board. No ifs, ands, or buts – the project would be shelved, and alternative sites would be scouted. Yet, as the clock ticked down, the reality was stark – no other spots were ripe for the picking. It was a tightrope walk between progress and preservation, a community at the crossroads of change. The team’s delivery was crisp, devoid of fluff, and yet, it overstepped its time slot by a mere three minutes – a sliver of time that underscored the urgency and weight of the matter at hand. The air was thick with anticipation, the villagers’ brows furrowed in thought, as the future of their communal space hung in the balance. It was a modern-day town hall, a democratic dance of opinions and possibilities. The skate park, a symbol of youth and freedom, now stood at the precipice of public opinion, its destiny dictated by the very people it aimed to serve.
In Conversation with Friends
At the end of the presentation, I retired to the Copper Beech to gain the perspectives of my good friends, George, and Edmund.
Over his beer George muttered, “It’s quite symbolic, really, the physical decay of a communal space reflects the disintegration of social cohesion. It’s imperative that we examine not just the edifice but the underlying ailments it represents.”
Edmund a firm believer in the importance of social order and tradition, replied, “The age of a structure is akin to the age of wisdom to cast aside our heritage is to disregard the very foundation upon which our community stands. The new should not eclipse the old, but rather, emerge respectfully alongside it.”
Not agreeing with either, I observed, “The shift towards the skate park signifies more than a relocation; it is a transition of eras, a physical manifestation of change. It is about adapting our communal spaces to fit the evolving needs of our society, ensuring they serve as a nexus for all generations.”
George nodded in agreement, acknowledging the need for spaces that resonate with the youth. “Indeed, the skate park is a modern agora, a place where free thought and physical expression can coexist. It’s essential that we adapt to preserve the spirit of community in forms that are relevant today.”
Edmund, while hesitant, conceded the point with caution. “Progress is not inherently detrimental,” he mused, “provided it’s pursued with a reverence for the past. The new village hub must not only serve the present but honour the legacy of what came before.”
George leaned back in his chair, seeing in his mind’s eye the decrepit state of the Village Hall with a critical eye. “Decay is inherent in all compounded things,” he remarked dryly. “Progress is not an illusion; it happens, but it is slow and invariably disappointing.”
Edmund nodded thoughtfully, his gaze imagining on the exposed steel beams. “Society is indeed a contract,” he mused. “It is a partnership in all science; a partnership in all art; a partnership in every virtue, and in all perfection. As the ends of such a partnership cannot be obtained in many generations, it becomes a partnership not only between those who are living, but between those who are living, those who are dead, and those who are to be born.”
“So, considering the historical significance of this hall and the communal spirit it embodies, how should we address its current state?” I asked.
George’s response was immediate, “We must preserve our heritage, but not at the cost of progress. We must find a balance between the two.”
Edmund agreed, adding, “Preservation of the common good is paramount. We must repair what is damaged, but also innovate to prevent future decay.”
“Gentlemen,” I prompted, “we are facing a bit of a pickle with the Parish Council’s finances. They have borrowed a hefty sum for restoration, yet here we are, knee-deep in additional structural problems. Thoughts?”
George: “It’s the age-old story of biting off more than one can chew, isn’t it? In the pursuit of restoring the past, we have stumbled upon the present’s harsh realities. One must question the allocation of funds, and the oversight involved.”
Edmund: “Indeed but let us not forget that prudence in such financial endeavours is paramount. It is not merely the restoration of buildings we seek but the preservation of our heritage. The unforeseen is just that, unforeseen. We must adapt our strategies accordingly.”
“Adaptation seems to be the order of the day. With the current plan proving inadequate, what steps would you suggest navigating this fiscal storm?”
George: “Transparency and accountability should be our guiding principles. The public deserves to know where every penny is going, especially when the ship is taking on water.”
Edmund: “A judicious approach, certainly. A re-evaluation of the repayment terms or seeking additional funding sources could provide some relief. After all, a stitch in time saves nine.”
We took a moment to savour our beers, always good at the Copper, I turned to them seated across from each other in the warm light of the bar. “George, Edmund, this building is more than just bricks and mortar, it’s a symbol of our community’s identity, yet it’s crumbling before our eyes. How do we reconcile the need to preserve our past with the stark financial challenges we face?”
George, ever the pragmatist, adjusted his spectacles. “It’s quite simple, really. We must document everything, leave a record for those who come after us. If the physical cannot be saved, let the idea persist. But we must also be sensible; if preserving a relic jeopardises our future, then we must adapt.”
Edmund, with a thoughtful nod, adds, “Indeed, preservation is key to remembering who we are, but we must not be slaves to our buildings. It is the community, the living, breathing collective of individuals, which imbues these stones with meaning. We must find a way to carry forward our legacy without being burdened by it.”
I reflected on their words, the balance between holding onto history and letting go not an easy one to strike, but necessary for the community to thrive. The conversation continued, weaving through the complexities of heritage and progress.
George leant back, eyeing the blueprints spread on the table. “A multifunctional space, you say. In my time, we would have called it a common ground. But tell me, does this plan consider the working class? The true essence of a village hub is its accessibility to all.”
Edmund, with a thoughtful nod, adds, “Indeed, the concept of a ‘village hub’ is transformative. It is not merely about relocating; it is about creating a space that reflects the community’s values and traditions. However, one must ponder if modernity might overshadow the heritage we seek to preserve.”
I interjected, “That’s a valid point, Edmund. The parish council aims to blend tradition with modern needs. The skate park location is central, and the proposed activities cater to diverse interests. It’s about evolving with the times while honouring our roots.”
George laughed, “Evolving, yes, but let’s not forget the individual in this collective dream. A coffee corner to discuss politics, perhaps? And rooms for activities – I hope they include a library corner, for literature is the hallmark of culture.”
Edmund smiles, “A library, George? A commendable idea. A society without the knowledge of its past history, origin, and culture is like a tree without roots. But let’s ensure this hub doesn’t become an echo chamber of the elite.”
I nodded, “Absolutely. The vision is inclusivity, a hub that is a microcosm of the village itself. A place where ideas, fitness, and leisure coalesce. It’s about creating a legacy for future generations.”
The conversation flowed on, ideas melding with historical wisdom, as the blueprint of the village hub takes on a life of its own, shaped by the voices of the past and the needs of the present and George got the next round in.
With the round in and with the soft ticking of a clock marking the urgency of time, I broached the subject of the £55,000 grant from the UK Shared Prosperity Fund.
“George,” you begin, “considering your advocacy for social justice, how might we best utilise this grant to benefit society, given the constraint of time?”
George stroked his chin thoughtfully. “In times of austerity, it’s imperative that every penny serves the common good. The essence of true funding is not just in its amount but in its application towards creating a society that values fairness and equality.”
Edmund concurred, then added, “Indeed, but let us not hasten without caution. The funds must be employed in a manner that ensures lasting improvement, not transient relief. It is the responsibility of the present to secure the welfare of the future.”
I pondered their words, the weight of the decision resting on your parish council’s shoulders. The conversation and beer continued, ideas flowing, as the clock reminds you that time, much like the grant, is a resource that must be wisely managed. The dialogue between the past and present weaves responsibility and vision, with no definitive conclusion, only the continuous pursuit of progress.
“Gentlemen, we are here to discuss the essence of community consultation in modern project development. George, from your perspective, why is the voice of the community vital?
“In any society, the people’s consent is paramount. Without it, you are imposing a tyranny of sorts. For a project to truly succeed, it must not only serve a purpose but also resonate with the populace. It is about the collective, not the few.”
“Interesting point. Edmund, and you?”
“Well, the will of the people is indeed a crucial element. However, we must also consider that the masses are not always enlightened to the long-term benefits of a project. Sometimes, opposition stems from a lack of vision, not the project’s lack of merit.”
“So, there’s a balance between heeding public opinion and guiding it for the greater good?”
George, “Precisely. The key is transparent dialogue—ensuring that the community is fully informed and involved in the decision-making process.”
Edmund, “Agreed. The community must be consulted, but the final decision should also account for the expertise of those leading the project.
“Both of you advocate for a consultative approach that respects the community’s voice while also educating and leading it towards progress. “
George put down his empty glass, eyeing the documents on the table with a furrowed brow. “Logistics and finances, the twin hurdles of any project,” he mused. “But it’s the human element, the ambitions and fears, that often tip the scales, don’t you think, Edmund?”
With a thoughtful nod, “Indeed, George. The important aspect lies in the community’s trust. Without it, the finest of projects risks becoming a hollow venture, overshadowed by doubts and personal agendas.”
“So, how would you address these concerns? Transparency or more community involvement?” I asked.
George raised another chuckle, “Transparency is key, yes. But let us not forget the role of accountability. It’s not just about making things clear; it’s about being answerable to those we serve.”
Edmund added, “And let us not underestimate the power of tradition and wisdom. They guide us through the tumult of innovation and change, providing a steady hand.”
The conversation continued over several more rounds of excellent beer, with historical insights weaving through modern dilemmas, no definitive conclusion sought, only a shared understanding of the complexities of managing progress amidst the human condition. A clever way to end an excellent day.
CIVIC ENGAGEMENT IS VERY IMPORTANT. WE ALL LIVE HERE TOGETHER AND WE NEED TO LOOK OUT FOR ONE ANOTHER.
Elizabeth Goreham
A beginning is the time for taking the most delicate care that the balances are correct. 
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