Clayhanger Common, 10:00am Christmas Eve 2009

The beauty of things is sometimes unexpected.

Mist rose in bands from the direction of Clayhanger Village.

The sunlight turned the snow golden, making it precious.

Across the rooftops, swathed in golden mist.

I’d just like to say…

I wish all you readers out there a merry Christmas and a very happy, prosperous and peaceful 2010.

When I started this blog back in May, I thought nobody would read it, much less be engaged by anything I had to say. I’m absolutely amazed to find that there’s an enthusiastic, switched-on, opinionated and somewhat eccentric audience for my bilious rants and largely incoherent rambles. As I write this, Brownhills Blog has racked up over 22,000 hits and I’m stunned. I couldn’t do this stuff without the support, information, enthusiasm and advice you lot provide, and I’m grateful for all your contributions.

I’d particularly like to send very special greetings to The YamYam, whose support toward both this fetid organ and to the local net community has been both immense and indefatigable. I’d like to tip the novelty  Santa hat also toward the TheEdditer, his exemplary Bloxidge Tallygraph and the wonderful work both he and his colleagues do at Walsall Local History Centre. Dan Slee at @walsallcouncil deserves a mention for being very patient in the face of what must seem like almost constantly hostile enemy fire, and to the local twitter community who are an endless source of wit, ranting, foul language and cake. The guys over at the Lichfield Blog continue to light the way, and their help and support has been very welcome.

Finally, I’d like to send out very special Christmas greetings to [Howmuch], [Twomuch] and the swan-pig. They know why.

Have a good one, and please do stay tuned.

If you don't love XKCD, you must be normal.

Something is happening

This notice has appeared recently

I see that the site of the now demolished Shire Oak Reservoir has finally been sold to Morris Homes. Since outline planning permission for a housing development on the site was granted way back in 2006, the only thing standing in the way is the fine detail of any plan; houses will be built here soon. From the Morris Homes website, the developer has the following description:

From the Morris Homes website

There’s some classic developer-speak in there. Since when has Shire Oak been a village, let alone a charming one? Chasewater and Brownhills Common close by? How many people today would walk down the hill to town – and more importantly, back up without oxygen and a meal break? Easy access to the M6 – haven’t they conveniently omitted the word ‘Toll’ from that? And where the hell did they get the name ‘Norton Gate’ from? Enquiring minds need to know… at least it’ll probably wake our councillors from their slumbers.

As I’ve said before, I’ve no opposition to this development whatsoever, but I do find developer guff endlessly entertaining. I bet the house on the corner will have a cracking view from upstairs…

If you’re reading this at the Express & Star, it’s an easy take, look, I’ve done all your research for you…

R. Starbuck, Butcher, circa 1961

Reg Starbuck and son Tom, taken around 1961. Just love the symmetry in the window, and the crispness of the overalls

Hi Bob

Hope you’re ok.

As promised please find attached a photograph of the shop showing my Dad Tom Starbuck and Grandpa Reg Starbuck. I think it was taken around 1961. Pictures of this end of the High Street (around Pier/Bricklin Street) seem to be few and far between.

I’m especially enjoying the history part of your blog. Been tracing my own family tree and got back to 1755, Barlastone, Leics.

Cheers

Rich

You guys are amazing. Last week, I didn’t know that Starbuck Butchers existed, then Dominic enquired asking after a photo of the shop. A few days later, the grapevine rumbles and Richard Starbuck comes up with a picture as requested, and a whole new record of a piece of Brownhills social history.

This is why I do this, thanks to everyone involved, particularly to Richard, who’s done stirling service for both his family and the community.

I will endeavour to cover more social history – I understand just how many of you love it. The biggest problem I have with the local history stuff is that it can take ages to prepare even the smallest post due to the reading and study involved, and time has been in quite short supply recently. Those posts are absolutely the most rewarding, however, and I will try harder.

If you have any queries, ideas or corrections, please don’t hesistate to drop me a line: BrownhillsBob at Googlemail dot com. Cheers.

From now, it only gets better…

Today is Winter Solstice – the shortest day of the year, the day from which the daylight steadily lengthens into a new year, and warmer, longer spring days enter on tiptoes. From this day, things only get better. Winter Solstice – and its’ associated pagan festival Yule – is almost certainly the genesis of Christmas as it’s celebrated today. I’m sure the pagans welcomed an end of year knees up just like the rest of us, as cyclists and outdoor people of all stripes still welcome this milestone for the positivity it brings. To mark it, I’ve dug some hairy old festive prog rock out of the bowels of YouTube to share.

Ring Out, Solstice Bells!

Now is the solstice of the year,

winter is the glad song that you hear.

Seven maids move in seven time.

Have the lads up ready in a line.

Ring out these bells.

Ring out, ring solstice bells.

Ring solstice bells.

Join together beneath the mistletoe.

By the holy oak whereon it grows.

Seven druids dance in seven time.

Sing the song the bells call, loudly chiming.

Ring out these bells.

Ring out, ring solstice bells.

Ring solstice bells.

Praise be to the distant sister sun,

joyful as the silver planets run.

Seven maids move in seven time.

Sing the song the bells call, loudly chiming.

Ring out those bells.

Ring out, ring solstice bells.

Ring solstice bells.

Ring on, ring out.

Ring on, ring out.

Hyperinflation returns

Settling down in front of the fire this evening, I was intrigued to note a strange statistic in the good old Express & Star. In a column I’d previously not been troubled by the existence of, ‘A week in local politics’ written by staffer Dan Wainwright, there amongst the old rope pretending to be incisive reportage, was a PR puff for Walsall Council’s efforts on Twatter. I reproduce the item below, but the gist seems to be that Walsall is celebrating sending it’s millionth message via the social network. This came as something of a surprise to me, and I’m sure many other denizens of the Walsall Twatter community who are well aware of, and respectful toward, press officer Dan Slee’s commitment to involvement with the new social media. The shock arose due to the fact that as of tonight, Saturday the 19th of December 2009, Walsall Council’s twitter page says they’ve sent only 1,977 tweets. The confusion arises due to the method of enumeration involved – that of multiplying their follower number by that of their number of tweets. This does indeed result in an impressive figure, but I have to say, it’s complete bollocks and I’ve never seen such statistics used before.

I know the figure can’t have been generated by Dan Slee himself, as such aggrandisement would be completely out of character and he would be well aware of the piss taking, derision and general merriment such a statement would incur. Since a lack of numeracy – particularly with matters of a pecuniary nature – seems to be a hallmark of the council, one can only assume that the same person responsible for costing the new ring road scheme  filled in on PR duties while Dan had nipped out for a quick doughnut.

Interesting, too, to note that Mike ‘Blofeld’ Bird seems to be advocating a new policy of council staff listening to the great unwashed. In my humble experience, generally, they already do. The ones that don’t listen to the public seem to reside in the cabinet and follow Mike’s example. Just ask any resident of Willenhall…

A Starbucks in Brownhills? Well, sort of…

I’ve got a bit of a local history puzzle going on, and I wonder if any of the readership can help? I received an email this afternoon asking the following question:

Hi bob

My nan and grandad owned starbucks buthchers on the high street circa 1950 for a couple of decades. I’m trying to locate pictures for my mother for Xmas as it was where she grew up. Don’t suppose you could direct me to books or something?

Dominic Jeffreys

I checked Clarice Mayo & Geoff Harrington’s wonderful ‘Memories of Brownhills Past’ photo book, and also ‘Brownhills and Walsall Wood on Old Picture Postcards’ by Jan Farrow, and whilst there are many interesting shots of the High Street in both books, none appear to show the shop in question. I sent out a Twatter cry for help to Stuart over at the excellent (and undervalued) Walsall Local History Centre, who also drew a blank… so readers, it’s over to you. I’d never heard of that particular butcher, so it’s all a learning experience for me, and I figure that there’s some very clued up readers out there who can help Dominic.

If you have anything to add, please comment here or send a meesage to me on BrowhillsBob at Googlemail dot com.

A seasonal 1910 Mills postcard of the High Street, from Jan Farrows 'Brownhills and Walsall Wood on Old Picture Postcards'

Bloody cyclists, eh?

This is going to be a rant. If you are of a sensitive disposition, please go here instead. Thank you.

Readers who peruse this blog on a fairly regular basis will no doubt be aware that I’m a fairly keen, dedicated cyclist. I’m not a head down, racing snake figured, lycra clad speed demon, so much as a portly, middle-aged bloke in normal trousers on a knackered old bike. I cycle thousands of miles every year – both for enjoyment and utility. Quite simply, I love to be on a bike, I love the engagement with the environment the activity gives and I see cycling as a both a way of keeping fit and as a pleasing occupation that helps to relieve the stresses and irritation of workaday life. I’ve been riding a bike ever since I was a small child, and have only ever been away from two wheels for a couple of years in my entire life. I pride myself that whilst I’m not a perfect road user, I try to uphold the standards of courtesy, skill and care that I myself expect to find on the road. I’ve learned over the years to be positive, assertive, polite and decisive within traffic; to always be informative and clear to other roadusers.

I'm more Yehuda Moon than Lance Armstrong...

Of late, I’ve been commuting from Brownhills through Walsall and off into the Black Country on an almost daily basis, and my route takes in many of the arterial roads and junctions of the area. At this time of year, with dark evenings and heavy, pre-Christmas traffic, one gets used to seeing some odd things on the roads and patience is an absolute must. Three or four weeks hence I had to take evasive action one evening as a driver of a large car, two unrestrained children on the back seat, pulled quickly out of a junction in Walsall’s Butts area, directly into my path. His vehicle was virtually invisible as it had no lights whatsoever. In a curious bout of role reversal, I pointed out his suicidal lack of illumination, to be told that ‘…I don’t need fuckin’ lights mate, this is a fuckin’ built up area!’. Such things are depressingly regular, from many sections of the road using community.

I’m mindful of the often justifiable bad press that cyclists receive, and abhor bad manners, lawless riding, lack of visibility and disrespect that many cyclist engender. Such behaviour irritates me immensely and I will often remonstrate with those who recklessly endanger themselves or others whilst on a bicycle. I never expected to have that kind of conversation with a representative of the Police.

One thing that is common to all serious cyclists is that we study the techniques and behaviour of other riders carefully. Being quite vulnerable, it is usual to find yourself watching how others handle traffic situations for pointers and critique of one’s own approach. I have been noticing, in a kind of background way, that the local police seem to be increasingly deploying both regular Bobbies andS PCSO’s on bicycles, which I think is a thoroughly good idea in principle. What I’ve also been noticing is that the road skills of some of the officers deployed in this manner seem to be woefully poor. Way back in the summer, I observed a police officer on a bicycle in a crowded Bradford Place in Walsall, weave between queuing, slowly moving buses, and then ride so close behind one that if it should stop, even at slow speed, he was sure to hit it. Certainly the bus driver would have had no idea that he was there. The officer continued to dodge around vehicles, until he headed off up Bridgman Street – I was so disgusted by the riders behaviour that I tweeted about it. Often, one sees bike police riding in pedestrian areas or on footpaths – curiously, this is quite correctly a fixed-penalty offence for civilians. There seems to be a casual unawareness of the general behaviour acceptable from cyclists in such a position.

The depth of this situation came home to me on the 25th November 2009. I was cycling along the A461 Lichfield Road in Shelfield, towards Walsall. It would have been about 11am, and traffic was fairly heavy but free moving. I peripherally observed another cyclist entering some distance ahead from the right – possibly from Willows Road. I noted the hi-viz jacket with a blue panel on the back, and assumed that the rider was a security guard off to work. As I gradually caught up with him, I watched carefully as the rider hugged the kerb so closely that he occasionally only narrowly avoided hitting it; overtaking vehicles pressed him into the edge of the road, causing the errant bike to drift over the lines at the junction of The Parkway. This was a nervous, fearful cyclist struggling in the traffic. I overtook him somewhere near the Barns Lane junction, and saw that the blue panel was the badge of a Police Community Support Officer. Leaving him behind, I patiently waited in line with the cars at the Rushall Square junction for the lights to change, one car back from the stop line. Behind me, my attention was drawn to the same guy riding along the inside edge of the queue – he passed me, crossed the stop line, and then dismounting, pulled his bike to the centre of the two lanes of stationary vehicles and remounted. When the light changed, traffic turning out of Station Road was jamming the junction, and our intrepid PCSO rode up to it and confused, halted, leaving the vehicles he’d obstructed behind him unable to move. Spotting a gap, he headed for space. I again passed him somewhere in the centre of the junction, over to my right. I was determined to get out of the way, but stopped to let two indicating busses pull out of the bus stand in front of MacDonalds. The busses began to move, oblivious to the officer who shot past me and only came to a halt, narrowly avoiding being struck by one of them, when I shouted at him to stop. Fighting the urge to remonstrate with him, I quickly cycled past the PCSO and off to work, furious at the behaviour. I vowed to call the police about it – I swore oaths to blog on the subject – but as the day wore on I mellowed, and let the incident pass.

Rushall Square - not the nicest junction in the world

The incident remained niggling away at me until today. At about 11:15am, at the Rushall Square junction, I was again queuing for the lights to change. I was this time, some way back; traffic was heavy and slow moving. There was an articulated lorry in front of me. As the line of traffic distilled, whom should I notice but the very same PCSO, coming up on the inside. He undertook the lorry, multiple cars and vans, and in very little space. I watched in disbelief as he crossed the stop line (the lights still at red), then freewheeled along the pedestrian barrier before hopping onto the pavement in front of the bookies. This pavement is maybe three or four feet wide between a plain shopfront and protective railings. Had anyone emerged from the betting shop doorway, the officer would certainly have struck them. At this, deciding I’d seen enough, I called after him to stop. Pushing my bike up the same pavement, I asked him who gave him his cycle training – he didn’t answer, but seemed nonplussed that I’d challenged him. I pointed out that cycling up the inside of a traffic line was a stupid thing to do, and that doing so to heavy goods vehicles was doubly so. I explained that many cyclists every year were killed by drivers of such vehicles who just plain couldn’t see their victims. I also explained that I was concerned for his personal safety and chatted a little about vehicular cycling. The chap shook my hand a couple of times, apologised, then cycled off – still on the pavement – towards Aldridge. I would lay good money on the fact that he hadn’t a clue why I was so incensed.

I’ve written this piece because I’m disgusted. Not with the cyclist so much, more with an organisation that allows such clearly untrained, unprepared representatives out onto the road in this manner. Like most people, I expect the police to be upholders and beacons of correct behaviour, whichever mode of transport they are using. That officer is clearly endangered by his lack of skill, and by a management structure that has failed to spot the deficiency. How in God’s name can we expect the average kid on a bicycle to behave in a sensible, intelligent and safe manner when those who should be exemplary behave in this way? Bicycle riding police officers in Walsall would not appear capable of passing a Bikeabilty course, yet are charged with enforcing the law of the road. This is an outrage.

What worries me most about this situation is that should I ever have the misfortune to be involved in a traffic accident, the police will maybe be in attendance. I genuinely fear that if the accident were attended by some of the police riders I’ve seen, they would not have the knowledge or capability to assess the situation as they obviously don’t have a clue what the primary position is, why a cyclist would be in it, or even what correct lane discipline involves. How can we expect officers to correct the behaviour of yob cyclists when there’s not a shadow’s breadth between their bad behaviour and that of the lout?

I’m no angel, and I’ve done, and will continue to do, stupid things on the road. We all do it, sometimes our judgement slips. I’ve learned by my own bitter experience what happens if you don’t handle traffic properly. I certainly don’t expect our police to be perfect – they’re human, too – but what I’ve seen frightens me.

There was no small moral outrage in the Daily Wail et al recently due to the publication of a cycling manual for the Police. What was missed in this brouhooha is that we already have two excellent manuals for the cyclist – The Highway Code, and John Franklin’s ‘Cyclecraft’. We have an excellent cycle training scheme in this country, the wonderful Bikeabilty. It’s just a shame that West Midlands Police don’t seem to have heard of any of them.

‘Doctor Who defies the council’ – Walsall Observer, April 15th, 1977

Thanks to diligent and committed rooting through past issues of the Walsall Observer by a keen reader of the Brownhills Blog, I am able to post this article from the Walsall Obsever of April 15th, 1977, about Philip Cheetham and his ultimately doomed confrontation with the authorities. This seems to answer several questions and raise a whole bunch more. I’ll let the article do the talking. I’ve transcribed it below, but you can see the somewhat poor quality original, including a photo of the protagonist by clicking on the image below.

If you have anything to add, or your memory has been jogged, please don’t hesitate to comment.

Fresh from the archives - Philp Cheetham in the limelight

‘Dr Who’ defies the council

Observer exclusive by Shelley Hunt and Gary Hudson

A technological wizard, who helps America’s space research, is set to defy Walsall Council from an electronic fortress in Brownhills.

Dr. Philip Cheetham, nicknamed ‘The Professor’ has turned his attention to keeping the council men out of his condemned High Street house.

The housing department will need the Six Million Dollar Man to help evict Mr. Cheetham from 218 High Street.

His ‘Doctor Who’ type defences include

• Radar, which can detect a bulldozer at 50 yards
• A sensitive alarm system which can identify callers
• Closed circuit television an concealed microphones
• A ‘Tesla’ coil, which can set up a field of high voltage electrical energy around the house
• A stand-by power source

Mr Cheetham, whose IQ tops 160, is a member of the MENSA organisation.

His home is at the end of a row of terraced houses being demolished – but he is determined not to move as he does not regard it as unfit.

‘They will not be able to get me out now. I am just going to sit back and wait,’ he said.

Mr. Cheetham bought the house seven years ago when he moved from Bristol to take up a teaching post. He subsequently turned the job down because it did not pay enough money. He is now unemployed.

SATELLITE

Originally from Devon, Mr. Cheetham has done satellite observation work for NASA, and his house is one of their monitoring stations.

He is a friend of millionaire calculator manufacturer, Clive Sinclair, and is helping pioneer miniaturised electronics.

Mr. Cheetham has also been actively involved in developing teaching aids for the disabled.

Mr. Ron Knight, Walsall’s Housing Manager, said there was no question of Mr. Cheetham being allowed to stay in the house.

But he admitted; ‘It is very difficult for us to contact him. He won’t answer the door or talk to us. We may have to get a Sheriff’s Warrant to get him out.’

‘I have heard that he is nicknamed the professor,’ said Mr. Knight.

A photograph probably taken from Humphries House of the rear of the terraces where Mr. Cheetham lived, spotted by chance in that excellent book 'Memories of Brownhills Past' by Clarice Mayo & Geoff Harrington.

Gone, but not forgotten…

Whilst pottering around this morning, shamelessly listening to Terry Wogan, my attention was snagged by the news report about the Care Quality Commission report into adult care in the UK. Speaking on behalf of Southwark  Council was one Annie Shepperd, who was protesting that the comission were wrong and all was clearly hunky-dory. You know the kind of thing – the sun rises in the south, bears defecate in the open, the Pope’s a Hindu, everything’s just fine, they’re all misguided. Typical local authority denial-speak. You can watch the BBC video report by clicking on the image below.

Late of this parish: worth £160,000 of anyone's money... Annie, we're so glad to see your back.

Local readers with long memories will remember Annie as being the Chief Executive of Walsall Council, who wandered off to Southwark back in 2006. Charged with restoring the image of Walsall as a fine, upstanding authority for a mere £160,000 pa, I’ll let you decide if she did a good job or not. However, this piece shows Annie yet again defending a lacklustre council – only the truly cruel would suggest there might be a pattern emerging here. The salary for Southwark Council’s Chief Executive was listed as being just £5 shy of £187,000 just before Annie joined them in 2005-6 (Taxpayer’s Alliance Rich list, 2008. PDF file, Adobe Reader required). Which is nice.

One thing’s for sure: on the kind of money she’s trousering for this particular old rope, she’ll never need to rely on local authority social care services, which could come as some relief, all things considered.