G OOD grief. I can't believe it. It's 50 years since the cattle market moved from Haywood Street down to Junction Road.

I can still see it as though it were only yesterday: I can hear the sounds of the animals, the indecipherable voices of the auctioneers, and the broad accents of the farmers.

I can smell the cow muck and the hay, the beery breath of many of the visitors and the paraffin and oil from lamps, and I can picture those ghosts of days now gone, sealing a deal with a spit on the hand, a handshake, and the giving of a shilling.

Everyone said that when the market moved, it would be the end of Leek.

The farmers and their wives would not come to town, they would abandon Leek as a shopping centre.

Some 40 years later, when the new Smithfield market down on Junction Road changed its selling day to Tuesday from Wednesday, we heard the laments that it would be the end of Leek's outdoor trestle market and it would be the end of Leek as a shopping centre.

Before the cattle market's move, we were told that if Marks & Spencer ever came to Leek, it would be the end of Leek's smaller shops.

Not that it ever stood a chance of coming to Leek, for the majority of its wares were manufactured right here in the mills and we could all get our pick of the "rejects".

Added to that, there were enough traders on Leek Urban District Council to look after their fellow human beings. It wasn't a Mafia as such, for there was no illegality involved, but it was a pretty closed shop.

Back in that Land of Long Ago, people could be housed on The Scheme (that's Haregate) if they were known to a certain councillor or two. Nothing wrong there, either, for those councillors knew the circumstances of the family. Everyone knew everyone.

Thanks to Cath Walton, the Moorlands historian, I've discovered only recently that my great-grandmother – one of the first people to be housed on The Scheme, in Haig Road – was in Leek Workhouse in the early 20th century.

Her husband had died in his 40s and there were three children to look after, so it was off to the workhouse for them. In a funny sort of way I'm proud of this, for they were assisted when Haig Road was built and they fought their way back through hard graft to become prominent citizens of the town. I suppose I have let the side down, really.

Today we hear of local traders fearing for their livelihoods when the giant supermarkets come to town, and who can blame them?

We live in pretty scary financial times. Some indeed may fall by the wayside. I hope they don't but it all echoes the past.