By Arthur Woodgate
When I awoke on 13th June 1930, my bedroom window was full of flame (A sight not unusual ten years later). This was out beloved Windmill, by the River Tillingham, on fire. A different sight than that on the Rye’s Own Christmas card. By the time I dressed and got out to be on hand should any help be needed the mill was completely alight with its out line shape still showing through the flames, but seconds later it seemed to twist and collapse. Continue reading The Day the Mill Burned Down