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What's your earliest memory?


Registered User
Feb 15, 2005
Dear TP'ers,

I am currently working with a weekly women's magazine on a feature all about people's earliest memories. The feature will launch a new fundraising intiative for the Society this September.

I am trying to find people who would be happy to share their earliest memory. It would involve a telephone interview with the magazine about the memory, and they may also ask for a photograph.

If you have a poignant, funny or unusual memory that you would like to share to help raise money then please reply to this post, email me at gwing@alzheimers.org.uk or send me a private message.

Thank you to all the TP-ers who have helped in the past with similar requests, we'd love to hear from you again!

Best wishes,
Alzheimer's Society Press Office

PS. The magazine want to talk to people from all ages, genders and backgrounds.


Registered User
Feb 24, 2006
It's very difficult to date earliest memories, isn't it, except when they are linked to significant events in the outside world (like the Coronation).



Registered User
May 27, 2005
My earliest involved standing on a jellyfish on holiday at Rhyll... I was about two or three, and I can still remember the pain and the mess my foot was in due to the resulting sting!

On a lighter note though, here's another I can remember vividly... my first day at school. I've doen it as a 'humourous story' - if it's any use to you, feel free to use.


It was my first day at school, and like anyone going on a new venture I was frightened yet excited. As we all stood there in the classroom I did something that I have never done since - I wet myself, but instead of declaring this to my teacher I had formed a plan: I stared at the ceiling with such intensity that soon enough every other child there stared also.

'What are you all looking at?' asked the teacher.

'Please miss' I replied, 'please miss, I think the roof's leaking'.

I could have got away with it if I hadn't been wearing light grey trousers; for all around the crotch and inner thighs were sodden, and you didn't have to be Sherlock Holmes to work out what had happened.

Thankfully she took me quietly away to the toilets to clean myself up.

'I'll wait outside' she said, aware of my shame and need for privacy. 'Leave your trousers and underpants where they are. Tell me when you've done and I'll give you another pair of trousers to wear. I cleaned myself up and called out and she opened the door slightly to hand me the trousers.

The School Trousers!

Nothing had prepared me for this sight: had some drunken or disgruntled sewing machine operator made these? The measurements may have been taken from a hippopotamus without street cred, they were wide-waisted, short legged and covered in hideous huge purple and grey checks. Even worse was the discomfort I suffered once they were on. I have never had to suffer the indignity of lice or flea infestation, but I'm sure that 'The School Trousers' had been made to simulate the sensation. So out I went scratching and adjusting myself and trying the best I could to fit into the trousers. There stood the teacher patiently waiting without a look of scorn or sympathy but one of understanding.

'Please Miss,' I ventured 'but me Mam'll go mad if I don't get my pants back'

'Don't worry' she said, ' they'll be washed and ironed before half-past three'

'And my underpants?'

'Yes, those too'.

I'd never had my underpants ironed before - a rare treat!

At that point, the only thought in my head was 'thank God I don't wear brown y-fronts like Brian' - Brian being the younger brother of my friend Lee: one day Lee pulled down his brother's shorts to show a gang of us the colour of his underwear - no that we requested this, but what are brothers for if not to cause embarrassment?

'Uugh look' he said as he pointed to the said garment 'brown they are. Do you know why he wears brown underkecks? So he never has to wipe his bum and nobody'll know!'

And from that moment on Brian was somehow distanced from the rest of us.