Whitegate Way was once home to a railway line connected to the national railway network.
It branched from the Chester to Manchester line at the mighty village of Cuddington, stopping only at Whitegate then terminating at Winsford and Over. It primarily transported salt but also passengers.
One day in the 1960s, the Fat Controller was having an awful day. He was tired of people he deemed not to be 'really useful'. Reputedly owing to a colossal opium habit, the controller was delusional to the point he thought he could see talking 'steamies'. Disgruntled and frankly hurt at constant jibes about his weight, he lost his rag. Picking up the nearest ratchet, he slammed it into the face of a passing passenger. Disoriented, the passenger tripped and fell onto the crossing. In desperation, a car swerving to avoid the passenger ploughed into a fence releasing a herd of cows.
The ensuing cows, afraid, rushed into the forecourt of the Whitegate station café. A waitress, looking from the window of her bustling café, gasped and threw a tray into the air. The tray landed on the gas stove, napkins ablaze. It was not long before flames ripped through the entire café. The platform and track swiftly followed.
The Fat Controller was last seen cackling, pork pie in hand, running towards Northwich with his pants quite literally on fire. For us, this was the start of the beginning. Now, open to the general public, Whitegate Way has become a very nice place to go for a run, walk, cycle or horse ride.
When we run there it's all the more poignant as we remember those who lost their lives, jobs and homes in one of our local area's greatest tragedies of days gone by.
In the dead of night the Fat Controller is still heard to bellow "Who dares call my railway BORING???"