Old Photos For No Reason Whatsoever

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Nay, lad, nay. Deidre Costello was the name of the actress; the character was called Linda Preston. Carter had a wife called Pat who wanted to turn him into a young executive. Linda used to try to lead him astray.
Eee, tha's reyt! I did say it was long time ago. It appears that Deirdre/Linda made a similar impression on you! Ta ever so for correcting and reminding me.
 

I've seen this before but was great to see it again. What I thought was remarkable was actually how little it has changed in some ways. We tend to think "old Sheffield" has gone, but this shows that a lot is left. We have in some ways improved our city but in others we haven't. This is a journey through an impressive Northern industrial city centre at the height of it's power. If the same cameraman on the same day had wandered round the slums of Kelvin or Park, there may have been a lot less misty eyed nostalgia! And a lot more raggy arses and rickets!

Very true. If I had a time-machine I wouldn't mind popping back to that era, at the turn of the previous century, when we were "on the up" as it were. There's a real vibrancy to it. I love the way folks dressed back then too. I'm sure there were ragamuffins with rickets, but I also think it was the order of the day to dress smart.

My family, on my mother's side, going back a couple of generations, were wealthy land owners and came from the Swinton/Wath area. In fact, there's still a hamlet in that area named after them. They also owned property all around the country. That link to wealth and prosperity was broken by my great grandfather, who wanted nothing to do with all that stuff and just wanted to be a coal miner. He brought his family, which included my grandad (who I never met), to North East Derbyshire, from Swinton, by horse and cart around that time. They came for the coal mining and settled in the area.

By the time I came along, there was quite a clan of them around North East Derbyshire - they were a big family. Although I went by a different surname, everyone in the village where I grew up, knew me as being one of that "tribe". I had about 5 or 6 uncles in the next village, that I can remember, and they all dressed the same. Navy two piece suit, white shirt, tie and a flat-cap. I never saw them in anything different. I don't know whether it was a local thing, but I suspect it was something to do with them going to work and coming home filthy and covered in coal dust - then wanting to scrub up and look as smart as they could when they went out? But most of the folks of that generation, in the place where I grew up, dressed like that. And when they'd finished working, they'd sit on the "form" (bench) watching the world go by, clenching a sprig of hawthorn between their teeth, when not smoking a Park Drive plain or a Woodbine.

A different era!
 
I think so too. I remember listening to the series of Uncle Mort, back in the 1980's while driving along in my car. It used to make long journeys fly by. It's not just the humour though, but the quality of his descriptive writing is exceptional. He has a beautiful and humorous way of describing things:

Describing a view of the city as dusk fell and as its lights shimmered in the distance, he wrote..

"the city twitched beneath the fat green thighs of the nearby hills" :D

Tinniswood spent some time in Sheffield and used to write for the The Star. That must have been back in the days when they had high standards! Very high standards!

The humour is very "Northern", often sardonic and takes unexpected twists.

There's the scene where Uncle Mort is at the graveside, burying his dearly departed wife. The vicar hands him a trowel to scoop the first bit of topsoil on top of the coffin laying in the grave. (As was the tradition). He hesitates for a moment, looks down sadly and rubs the soil from his trowel through his fingers whilst his mind seems far away. A family friend approaches him and touches him gently on the shoulder to offer support. "Are you alright?" - she asks, thinking the task is too much for him. He responds, "yeah, I was just thinking what a champion set of onions you could get from this topsoil". :D

In one of his books he describes a family member who used to keep chickens, but had to give it up because they were getting on his chest. His friend asks, "oh, do you mean bird flu?" and he says, "no, I mean they used to come in through the window when he was asleep on the settee and peck at his singlet". :D

Oh well, I think he's great anyhow! Or was. He died a few years ago of throat cancer apparently - a life-long pipe smoker.
Great books. Loved the Brigadier Tales where at the end of every story he says something like " I could have cried". Wished I'd never given it away. Think I'll get it again on Amazon. by the way a lot of it was filmed in Carbrook on the canal side.
 
Great books. Loved the Brigadier Tales where at the end of every story he says something like " I could have cried". Wished I'd never given it away. Think I'll get it again on Amazon. by the way a lot of it was filmed in Carbrook on the canal side.
I’ll have to check that out. Not the canal in Carbrook - the book. Might put that in my list to Santa. I’ll tell him not to bother with the oranges and nuts this year but leave me the Brigadier Tales by Peter Tinniswood instead!
 

As I have said before. Blades 1 (Field) West Ham 0 in March 1974. Home debuts for Jim Brown and Tony Field.
When this was posted not so long ago I was convinced the number 11 was Albert Johansson, presume it's Clive Best. I mean! Lot of physical difference between those two but bloody hell they could both play a bit.
 

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