BURIED IN TIME
Moving his sister into her new home, Scott Bevan, 41, from Birmingham, came across a curious letter...
Lugging the last of the boxes into the house, I was exhausted. My wife, Leanne, 39, and son Daniel, 15, followed me in, collapsing on the sofa we’d hauled in a couple of hours prior.
It was positioned across from a dated fireplace.
‘Anyone want a cup of tea?’ my sister Deborah, 51, shouted from the kitchen next door.
‘I’d love one, thanks,’ I replied, coming in to help.
It felt strange moving my sister back to the estate we had grown up on.
After suffering a brain aneurysm a few years ago and recently coming out of a longterm relationship, she needed a change, and this felt like the right move for her.
I only lived up the road, and my mum and brother lived on the same estate.
‘How are you feeling?’ I asked, pouring the tea.
‘OK,’ she replied. ‘I love the house. But that fireplace has got to be the first thing to go.’
‘Are you sure?’ I asked. ‘It adds a bit of character!’
I loved everything old and with a history, a passion that started back in 2015 when I began metal detecting.
But Debbie was adamant.
The house she was moving into had been left empty for four years, so a lot of work needed doing to it.
Bringing Leanne and Daniel as my helpers, I came over to get stuck in on the fireplace days later.
Only, knocking down the first column, I noticed a cavity in the brick.
What’s this? I thought, seeing the edge of a plastic bag sticking out.
It’s probably just to stop the draught...
But pulling the bag out to inspect it further, I realised that something was inside. It felt heavy in my hand. And my gut feeling told
This was going to be a great find...
me that this was going to be a great find.
‘Leanne! Debbie! Daniel! Come and look at this!’ I called.
They all came rushing in, and we opened the bag together.
Peeling back the plastic, we discovered a Birmingham Evening Mail newspaper inside, dated from 1969.
‘Is it a time capsule?’ Debbie asked, excitedly.
‘I think it just might be,’ I said, pulling out a black and white photograph of a young lady, smartly dressed in a dapper suit and tie.
We were all amazed.
It was so special to find our very own piece of the past.
‘I wonder if there’s one on the other side,’ I joked.
Except as soon as I started knocking the column down, I saw another bag.
We all gathered round and pulled out another newspaper dated from 1988, along with a crumpled note.
From the same year, it read: To whom it may concern. We wish you lots of happiness and good luck in your new home.
We came here at the end of May 1967, it was then newly built, and we have found contentment and security in these four walls.
We hope you enjoy the house and garden as we have.
The original fireplace was built 1969, and this one in August 1988, but I suppose when you arrive you will want to make major alterations
So, presumably you will find this note.
Good luck to you.
Ethel and Harold Wright. Reading it out loud, I noticed Debbie had got emotional.
Putting my hand on her shoulder, I felt the power of the message, too.
‘This is going to be the start of a new chapter for you,’ I said, reassuringly. ‘And what a way to mark it!’
‘I hope so,’ she replied. I wondered if the couple had gone through difficulties themselves and had wanted to pass on a message of hope to future owners.
What a lovely, selfless thing to do, I thought.
Wanting to find out more about Ethel and Harold, I did some digging that evening and managed to track down their son, Paul, on Facebook.
We had a chat and he told us he had no idea the time capsules were even there.
‘My mum passed away a while ago now,’ Paul told me. ‘And Dad passed away quite recently, in 2018,’ he added.
‘They’d be so happy to know you’ve found their note.’
Researching the history of the house later that evening, we found that it had been built on an old airfield site, used for Spitfires in WW2.
Excitedly, I shared a picture of the capsule on Twitter.
I had a small community of history lovers online – I used it to post a few of my finds from my metal detecting.
Only, I woke up the next morning to find my post had gone viral!
My phone wouldn’t stop pinging with notifications. ‘Daniel, look!’ I called. I couldn’t keep up with all the comments.
I think among the bad news we see every day, some positive news like this is just what people needed.
It’s such a thoughtful thing to do and brought us an immense amount of joy.
The house is finished now, and Debbie’s all settled in to her new home.
We passed the photograph of Ethel and Harold onto Paul but have kept the paper and the note for ourselves.
It’s something that we’ll truly treasure forever.
‘You should bury a time capsule yourself,’ I said to Debbie a few weeks later. ‘We can all be in it!’
‘What a great idea!’ she exclaimed, smiling.
Now, we just have to find the perfect picture...