My Dad - A True Blade

All advertisments are hidden for logged in members, why not log in/register?

Thanks GB. I'll leave town whilst I still can.

Brain has just remembered summert. Did your dad mention the day Princess Margaret - her sister is the Queen- paid a visit to Firth Bown ? The place was scrubbed up. Everywhere, everything and everyone motionless was painted.
A banking below Carlisle st, opposite the forge was planted up with flowers in an E II R design in honour of Mag's sister. The many hundreds of workers lined the main route down the middle of this huge steelworks waving and the like. As it happened, HRH was to see an actual forging press at work. Terry Hallam (a very able craftsman) was told to be in the vicinity just in case owt went wrong.
This had to be Rennie. "Take laddo (me) with you. But DON'T let her see you". Charming !
Best bit was, some brain donor decided to import a portable toilet suite the size of a railway carriage and plonk it in plain view of us royal subjects and snivelling classes.
That particular throne remained ...err unsoiled. Understandable really.

All the best.
UTB
 



Sorry for your loss mate his journey has ended my grandson is five years old so his journey is just about to start following the blades
 
The great thing about having your own radio show is you get to do a tribute to your own dad, not that he would have liked much of what I played because, barring one memorable occasion when I was playing The Enid, he objected to every bit of music he ever heard emanating from my bedroom. However, I've made it all relevant in one way or another, and I've included some commentary from United 2-1 Leeds in 2002, as well as Stan by Roy Harper (about when Roy's dad took him to watch Blackpool as a boy), followed by myself recounting the story of my dad's assist for John Matthews v Cambridge on Dec 30th 1978. I also quote benn5712 's description of Firth Brown.


Nice bit of Tull to kick it off. Yes, although I didn’t know your dad, from reading the stories on here from his colleagues I can only imagine what he thought when he heard the strains of Nik Turner’s sax emanating from your bedroom.

It does get easier, today was the first time I thought about my dad without great sadness, ten months after he passed away. Just a little bit of sadness now, as it should be.
 
May I introduce my big brother, EalingBlade? He played a big part in forcing me to support United as well.

We have met a few times at London fixtures as well EalingBlade. Condolences to you as well as Adrian at this time. It seems your Dad was a Firth Brown legend, I mentioned his name to my uncle another FB worker, who instantly knew who I was talking about, 'dead straight tha knows Rennie, allus knew weer tha stood wi im'. Positively gushing coming from him that was.
 
Nice bit of Tull to kick it off. Yes, although I didn’t know your dad, from reading the stories on here from his colleagues I can only imagine what he thought when he heard the strains of Nik Turner’s sax emanating from your bedroom.

It does get easier, today was the first time I thought about my dad without great sadness, ten months after he passed away. Just a little bit of sadness now, as it should be.

Went in my mum and dad’s bedroom today for the first time since he died in August. Gave a thumbs up to where the old man slept for 40-odd years and felt proud, not sad.
 
Thanks GB. I'll leave town whilst I still can.

Brain has just remembered summert. Did your dad mention the day Princess Margaret - her sister is the Queen- paid a visit to Firth Bown ? The place was scrubbed up. Everywhere, everything and everyone motionless was painted.
A banking below Carlisle st, opposite the forge was planted up with flowers in an E II R design in honour of Mag's sister. The many hundreds of workers lined the main route down the middle of this huge steelworks waving and the like. As it happened, HRH was to see an actual forging press at work. Terry Hallam (a very able craftsman) was told to be in the vicinity just in case owt went wrong.
This had to be Rennie. "Take laddo (me) with you. But DON'T let her see you". Charming !
Best bit was, some brain donor decided to import a portable toilet suite the size of a railway carriage and plonk it in plain view of us royal subjects and snivelling classes.
That particular throne remained ...err unsoiled. Understandable really.

All the best.
UTB

I will ask if any of my siblings remember being told about this. He always found anything in Private Eye about Princess Margaret extremely amusing - "First in line to the drinks trolley," and that sort of thing.
 
LSF will.
Yes, I do recall the royal visit to Browns, but fortunately, I was then working up at the Norfolk Bar Mill and well away from the fawning, bowing and scraping.
Many jokes about royal turds were abound..... I was probably up to my neck in grease and shite doing a roll change whilst she was re packing a gland on the 1750 press :-)
 
Yes, I do recall the royal visit to Browns, but fortunately, I was then working up at the Norfolk Bar Mill and well away from the fawning, bowing and scraping.
Many jokes about royal turds were abound..... I was probably up to my neck in grease and shite doing a roll change whilst she was re packing a gland on the 1750 press :)
And I bet H###y the Prince Andrew lookalike was either shifted onto nights or safely tied up in east coast rd pumphouse. Just to save any misunderstandings, like.
 
Oh aye, him! We started in apprentice training school on same day and came through apprenticeship together.
He stood out from the rest of lads with his posh millhouses accent, but a decent lad too.
Last time I saw him he had a newsagents on Derbyshire Lane.
He really did look like Andrew and earned money from it!
 
Oh aye, him! We started in apprentice training school on same day and came through apprenticeship together.
He stood out from the rest of lads with his posh millhouses accent, but a decent lad too.
Last time I saw him he had a newsagents on Derbyshire Lane.
He really did look like Andrew and earned money from it!
He arrived fashionably late in the West st hotel one stag night, always a stag do to go to in them days. Every bowed and got to their knees, place was in uproar. Happy days.
All decent lads.
 

All advertisments are hidden for logged in members, why not log in/register?

All advertisments are hidden for logged in members, why not log in/register?

Back
Top Bottom