Monday 28 October 2024

THE VICAR WHO WIELDED THE CANE

Whilst the Rev Harry Hodgetts clearly pulled no verbal punches when bemoaning society’s ills (see blog 25 Oct), he at least was never called upon to use the cane, so far as I know.  That duty fell to one of his much earlier predecessors.

 

In the same issue of the Falmouth Packet that reported Mr Hodgetts’ outspoken comments – July 23, 1971 – there was a much smaller item marking the 100th anniversary of Penwerris Church of England Infants School.

 

The writer of the newspaper’s Pendennis page had been shown some of the school’s records from its earlier (unspecified) years, unearthed by Mrs H Bennett, chairman of the managers.  

 

Among other things, these showed that punishments for truancy included “a spell aboard a local training ship . . . and all caning of children was administered by the (unnamed) vicar.”

 

The records also showed that many children left the school in the 1920s to emigrate to Australia and South Africa.  Another loss involved “one little boy who was discharged from the school for refusing to wash his face.” 

PENMERE CENTENARY DIARY DATE

Saturday, July 29, has been confirmed as the date for next year’s Centenary Celebration Day at Falmouth’s Penmere railway halt.

 

Its car park will be transformed into an open-air exhibition centre for the day, for purposes of a “Centenary Gala.”

 

As a bonus extra, Falmouth Model Railway Club has agreed to construct a 1950s model of the station for the Friends.  This will be on view in the display cabinet outside Falmouth Library, as well as, hopefully, at Penmere itself on the big day.


Friends chairman Steve Lloyd has begun collating a history of the various happenings at the station down the years.  See blog post 20 July 2024. 

Saturday 26 October 2024

FALMOUTH IN THE ’80s (20)

End Of Steam Era At Docks

 

An era spanning one-and-a-quarter centuries ended at Falmouth Docks in August, 1986, when another proud chapter in Britain’s age of steam came to a close.  The Hawthorne-Leslie 0-4-0 saddle tank No 3 – believed to be the nation’s last working steam locomotive in private industrial hands – hissed and hooted her way around the yard for the last time. The nostalgic occasion was witnessed by scores of steam enthusiasts from all over Devon and Cornwall.

 

Thereafter, the diesel reigned supreme on the yard’s seven miles of track.  The No 3 was to be transported by road to its new owners, the Plym Valley Railway. Also exit-bound was the only other steam loco at the Docks, the Hudswell Clarke No 5, which had been out of operation for some six or seven years. This one had been bought by a Torquay company for static display purposes.

 

The departure of the No 3 was a bitter-sweet moment for one man in particular – Mike Deeks, the Docks’ port engineer and development manager. He explained: “I am the one who has campaigned hardest to get rid of it, and I probably like it more than anyone! But it’s simply far too expensive to maintain and operate. It’s awfully sad and I will be very sorry to see it happen, but it has just got to go.” He added: “A number of societies have asked if they can come down and see her even if they weren’t successful in buying her, so we thought it would be a nice idea to have one final steam-up.”

 

The No 3 loco was last in daily use for some ten weeks earlier in the year – when the diesel was being overhauled and when, as Mike recalled, “she was worked extensively to everyone’s delight.” Prior to that, she had been in occasional use for providing quantities of steam for various purposes.  

 

The feelings for the No 3 were well summed up in a reader’s letter to the Falmouth Packet in 1985 which read: “It has performed its duties around the wharves and jetties diligently and joyously. If the immaculately painted and lovingly polished engine should leave the yard, many people will feel a sense of loss, a passing of an old friend. She has given much pleasure to driver and fireman alike, as well as to numerous dockyard employees, and to think that we may not see her steaming on Cornish metals much longer is sad.”

 

The No 3 was built for the yard in 1926 and the No 5 was constructed three years later.  Until circa 1980, there were three steam engines trundling around the Docks. Then the Peckett loco was sold to Poldark Mining Ltd at Wendron, where she became a static exhibit.

 

Heaviest Snowfall For 30 Years

 

On Friday, January 18, 1985, the Falmouth area woke up to its deepest snow for at least 30 years.  Ken Bryer, the town’s official weather observer, measured six inches of snow at daybreak, one inch more than the previous big fall at the end of 1978.  He said it was the deepest he had known in his 28 years as a weather observer and since he came to Falmouth four years earlier.  Shops ran low on necessities.  At the Acacia Mini Market in Acacia Road, Mark Lacey said his family’s shop had run out of potatoes, bread and most fruit and vegetables. Coal and milk were also running low.  “We have had to ration milk and potatoes, especially when there are elderly people who cannot get out,” said Mark. “They are facing the biggest problems, but a lot of people have been coming in for them.” Walter Brotherton, of Acacia News, reported: “We are not getting any national newspapers at all. They can’t get through, so they’ve given up. We’ve been out delivering the Packet to old people who are stuck in.  Copies have been selling fast.” He added: “I walked in this morning and there was a man skiing down Kimberley Park Road.” 

 

John Simmons, chairman of Falmouth Age Concern, urged the town’s younger residents to maintain the caring spirit that had emerged, for the sake of the elderly.  He declared: “The cold spell, coupled with the snow, created a transformation of attitudes which have long been dormant in Falmouth. The town became a truly caring community.” In the event, the big freeze was short-lived. By the Saturday, motorists were back on the roads again, with many having walked out to recover their vehicles from where they had been abandoned. On lower ground, almost all the snow had melted away by the Sunday – helped by a huge downpour of 1.08 inches of rain, making Falmouth the wettest place in Britain. 

 

Let’s Keep It Simple, Eh?

 

“What’s in a name?”  Well, a bit too much was the answer to that one, at least so far as a Falmouth school was concerned in 1985. The town’s newest school had come into being with the merger of two others, but with a name that had to be one of the longest in education – Falmouth Church of England Voluntary Controlled Junior and Infant School.  (Exactly – imagine chucking that one at the taxi driver!) 

 

Headmaster Bill Adams explained: “The long-winded title was temporary; it was conferred pending the establishment of a board of governors to give the school ‘an instrument of government.’” Its permanent title – all of two words shorter – became  King Charles Voluntary Controlled Junior and Infant School. But as Mr Adams said: “While the words ‘voluntary and controlled junior and infant’ are a necessary part of the official title, it seems sensible for most purposes simply to call ourselves King Charles School.” And that, I’m happy to confirm, is the way it has indeed been!  

 

Farewell, Osborne Studios

 

One of Falmouth’s longest links with the past was severed in 1985 with the closure of Osborne Studios in Arwenack Street.  The business, the oldest of its kind in Cornwall, celebrated its centenary in 1982 and was run for nearly 50 years by the brothers Brian and Maurice Osborne. Brian died in that centenary year and Maurice, 66, was now retiring.  Maurice reflected: “It does seem a bit strange when I walk past the old shop now.” On lavish display there until recently were the results of generation after generation of the Osborne family recording the town’s history on film. The Flying Enterprise, the bombing of the Docks, the arrival of the yacht Tinkerbell . . . numerous events great and small filled the family firm’s fascinating pictorial library.

 

The business employed 27 people in the era between the two world wars, when it was concerned with film processing. The Osborne family arrived in Falmouth way back in the 19thCentury. Maurice’s great grandfather was foreman/builder of Falmouth railway station. The photography business made its base in Arwenack Street in 1905 in premises formerly belonging to a surgeon.  Eleven years later, it was one of the first shops in the town to have electric lighting. Disaster struck in 1962 when the premises were badly damaged by fire.  Much valuable equipment and hundreds of photographs  were lost in the blaze and subsequent flooding from a burst water pipe, but the firm survived and rose again. 

 

Falmouth ‘Humiliated’ In Landmark Local Derby

 

A notable piece of local sporting history was chalked up in September, 1985, with the first-ever local derby South Western League soccer match between Penryn Athletic and Falmouth Town at the latter’s Bickland Park ground, scene of countless triumphs for the home club in the 1960s and ‘70s but, alas, with more testing times now prevailing. One test Town failed to pass was this derby, with Penryn, relatively new to this league and boasting nothing like their opponents’ pedigree and history, running out 2-1 winners. 

 

But the after-match remarks of Falmouth manager Dave Wadd were perhaps just as noteworthy as the game itself.  He confessed to being “humiliated” by his team’s poor performance, but added that he was more disturbed by the atmosphere off the pitch. “As far as I am concerned, I would rather see Penryn do well and beat teams from outside the area,” he said. “It’s good for us to have a successful neighbour, but it seems I am in a minority. On Saturday I detected some jealousy between the clubs, mainly from the supporters.  It annoys me that they get so incensed. It’s only a game* and at the end we should be friends and not allow the jealousy to smoulder on. This has crept in over the years. It used to be that there was a tremendous atmosphere at derby games, but it was always full of humour. On Saturday I sensed rival spectators might even come to blows.”

 

In the derby match, Penryn took an early lead through Mickey Pascoe and Peter Etherington secured victory in the second half after Stuart Wilkes had equalized on 22 minutes.

 

* Perhaps it was as well that Liverpool legend Bill Shankly was not around to hear Wadd’s comment. He did, after all, once famously declare: “Football is not a matter of life and death; it’s more important than that!” 

Friday 25 October 2024

WOULD THESE VICARS SET SOCIAL MEDIA ALIGHT?

I’ve mentioned from time to time how the advent of social media has as good as killed the readers’ letters pages of local newspapers, at least so far as anything truly interesting or provocative is concerned.

 

Something else that you rarely if ever see in the media nowadays is stories developed from church magazines.

 

A few decades ago, in my earlier life as a newspaper reporter, such publications were an unlikely but often good source of stories, especially when vicars got hot under their dog collars (sorry, couldn’t resist that one!).

 

And they did go public with views that were occasionally quite outspoken and even controversial.

 

With a stretch of the imagination, I can just about see the sort of cleric I have in mind perhaps having a field day today as a regular contributor to  Facebook or X.

 

At times, back in the day, it almost seemed as though there was competition among them to see who could come up with the most newsworthy comments. 

 

Examples I have highlighted in the past have included the Rector of Falmouth in 1984, the Rev Preb Peter Boyd, who caused quite a stir with his call for Britain to surrender its nuclear arsenal.

 

His predecessor, Canon Tom Barfett, raised many an eyebrow when he advocated Government censorship of the media, no less.  

 

He wrote: “Any government that wants peace will have to exert censorship over the media . . . A policy of self-restraint by the media would be of tremendous help to the nation at this difficult time.”   

 

Now I am reminded of the “roaring rev” over at Falmouth’s St Michael’s Church, Penwerris, in the early 1970s, when the Rev Harry Hodgetts felt moved to describe our nation as being “in a hell of a mess.”

 

He wrote:  “One of the most regrettable and stupid statements of recent times was made by a former minister of the crown who said that the permissive society is the civilized society.  How’s that for a laugh?”

 

He argued that indifference to God, the rejection of meaningful standards to live by and “the innate selfishness of the affluent society” was inevitably bringing an unhappy, dissatisfied and disillusioned society.

 

He added:  “Meanwhile, morals decline and man, proud-come-of-age man, sinks below a truly human level.” 

 

Mr Hodgetts blasted the indifference of the silent majority “who sit in their comfy cocoons of affluent bliss and allow evil people to have their own way in the life of this nation.”

 

He pondered whether people cared that some cinemas and “reputable” bookshops made money out of “selling filth and distorting young minds.”

 

He was also deeply disturbed to note that vandalism in his parish was getting much worse, with senseless damage and anti-social behaviour causing untold distress for countless people.

 

He wrote:  “When people talk of moving away because of constant interference from hooligans, it’s time society woke up to an acceptance of responsibilities to match the acceptance of benefits demanded and received.”

 

His comments were reported in the Falmouth Packet, which added its own view:  “Altogether, it’s a gloomy picture that has been painted of life in the 1970s and one that frequently emerges.” 

Wednesday 23 October 2024

THE PURE MAGIC OF THE LITTLE ACORN . . .

It’s always a lovely feeling.

 

I’ve just dashed off a little email to someone concerning a new ghost-written Cornish footballer autobiography in aid of Cancer Research UK.

 

It’s the very first document of any kind for the guy I have in mind, and who has provisionally said yes to the idea.

 

I’ve created a file for him – on my computer and in physical form, with his name freshly hand-written on the top.

 

And I’ve inserted that single sheet, the printed email, into its folder.

 

I know that, God willing, in around 18 months or so, that file will be bulging nearly an inch thick with shorthand notes from my 20 or so hour-long interview sessions with him and various other nostalgic items from the guy’s playing career. 

 

And around that time, we will have a whole new BOOK just published.  And – who knows? – it might even match the TWO THOUSAND POUNDS or more that we confidently expect TOMMY MATTHEWS to have raised with his book, “Game Of Two Halves,” launched last weekend. 

 

And all having grown from this single first document I’ve just filed away. 

 

As I said, always a lovely feeling . . . 

WHEN REPORTERS RESIST RED-RAG BULLIES

My recent mention (October 16) of Bill Shapland, former Packet Newspapers managing director, brought to mind another bugbear from my chief reporter days.

 

From time to time, strict editorial criteria will clash head-on with a publication’s commercial considerations.

 

This is especially problematical with small local newspapers, where the line between profit and loss can be very fine.

 

Classically, a reporter will hit upon a strong “bad news” story concerning, say, a prominent local business that is a big advertiser with his/her newspaper.  

 

The head of the business concerned will get wind of it and be anxious to avoid adverse publicity at all costs.

 

So he/she will go above the editor and talk direct with the paper’s owner or managing director – threatening to withdraw his advertising if the story is published.

 

Such a threat will be like a red rag to a bull – editorial interference bordering on bullying - for the reporter concerned and the editor.

 

But there is no easy answer. In an extreme case, the paper’s very existence – and thus the jobs of its editorial staff – could be jeopardized if that advertising is withdrawn.    

 

Similarly, a big advertiser will occasionally try to use that influence to push a good news story that frankly would not qualify for publication judged strictly on editorial merit. 

 

Just as with oil and water, therefore, editorial and advertising departments in newspapers do not always get on too well together – or at least they didn’t in my day. (The lines are somewhat more blurred these days, more’s the pity.)

 

I was at the heart of one such spat during my years as the Packet’s chief reporter (although admittedly, so far as I know, it did not threaten to kill off the paper). 

 

Circa 1979, I was directly responsible for a longstanding regular advertiser threatening to pull his support for the paper.

 

Matey was a prominent local figure. And he didn’t like it one bit when I, in one of my many mini-entrepreneurial ventures (success rate: one in 20), launched a little business that was directly in competition with one of his own.

 

When he got wind of its upcoming launch, Matey marched into the Packet offices at Ponsharden, demanded to see Bill Shapland and threatened to pull his advertising unless Bill told me to kill my new venture at birth.

 

Bill subsequently called me in, gave me a perfectly reasonable grilling and concluded that just so long as my project wasn’t interfering with my Packet work he had no grounds for agreeing to Matey’s request.  

 

He smiled, wished me good luck, and that was it.

 

I always liked Bill and respected him even more after that.  I ran my little business – in my own time – for six years. (Even hired a lovely young lady from the Packet advertising department to provide support services!!) 

 

As for Matey, I’m afraid memory fails regarding whether he actually carried out his threat, but if he did it was only for a very short period.  Either way, there was no lasting damage; he continued advertising and he was not bankrupted by my little intrusion!  

EARLY CHRISTMAS PRESENT!

Sometimes it’s the little things that mean so much, isn’t it?

Like today, when I met up with pal Brian Thomas in Newton Abbot.

 

After we had ritually gorged on our morning coffee and carrot cake – including second helpings of both items (exactly, so much for my legendary self-discipline) – it was over to the town’s weekly open-air market.

 

There we made for our favourite stall, with a host of good books on offer at 50p each or three for £1.

 

I chose just one and while I was waiting to pay a lady next to me – total stranger – said: “Give me that book.  I’ll add it to my two and then you can have yours for free.”

 

I expressed abundant gratitude, but she made light of it before adding “Merry Christmas” and moving swiftly on.

 

Now wasn’t that cute?!