Posts
Thursday, 15 April 2010
Tuesday, 13 April 2010
Presidents
History Mystery
Have a history teacher explain this----- if they can.
Abraham Lincoln was elected to Congress in 1846. John F. Kennedy was elected to Congress in 1946. Abraham Lincoln was elected President in 1860. John F. Kennedy was elected President in 1960. Both were particularly concerned with civil rights. Both wives lost their children while living in the White House. Both Presidents were shot on a Friday. Both Presidents were shot in the head Now it gets really weird. Lincoln's secretary was named Kennedy. Kennedy's Secretary was named Lincoln. Both were assassinated by Southerners. Both were succeeded by Southerners named Johnson. Andrew Johnson, who succeeded Lincoln , was born in 1808. Lyndon Johnson, who succeeded Kennedy, was born in 1908.
John Wilkes Booth, who assassinated Lincoln , was born in 1839. Lee Harvey Oswald, who assassinated Kennedy, was born in 1939.
Both assassins were known by their three names. Both names are composed of fifteen letters. Now hang on to your seat. Lincoln was shot at the theater named 'Ford.' Kennedy was shot in a car called 'Lincoln' made by 'Ford'. Lincoln was shot in a theater and his assassin ran and hid in a warehouse. Kennedy was shot from a warehouse and his assassin ran and hid in a theater. Booth and Oswald were assassinated before their trials. And here's the kicker.... A week before Lincoln was shot, he was in Monroe, Maryland A week before Kennedy was shot, he was with Marilyn Monroe.
Send this to as many people as you can, cause: Hey, this is one history lesson most people probably will not mind read
Have a history teacher explain this----- if they can.
Abraham Lincoln was elected to Congress in 1846. John F. Kennedy was elected to Congress in 1946. Abraham Lincoln was elected President in 1860. John F. Kennedy was elected President in 1960. Both were particularly concerned with civil rights. Both wives lost their children while living in the White House. Both Presidents were shot on a Friday. Both Presidents were shot in the head Now it gets really weird. Lincoln's secretary was named Kennedy. Kennedy's Secretary was named Lincoln. Both were assassinated by Southerners. Both were succeeded by Southerners named Johnson. Andrew Johnson, who succeeded Lincoln , was born in 1808. Lyndon Johnson, who succeeded Kennedy, was born in 1908.
John Wilkes Booth, who assassinated Lincoln , was born in 1839. Lee Harvey Oswald, who assassinated Kennedy, was born in 1939.
Both assassins were known by their three names. Both names are composed of fifteen letters. Now hang on to your seat. Lincoln was shot at the theater named 'Ford.' Kennedy was shot in a car called 'Lincoln' made by 'Ford'. Lincoln was shot in a theater and his assassin ran and hid in a warehouse. Kennedy was shot from a warehouse and his assassin ran and hid in a theater. Booth and Oswald were assassinated before their trials. And here's the kicker.... A week before Lincoln was shot, he was in Monroe, Maryland A week before Kennedy was shot, he was with Marilyn Monroe.
Send this to as many people as you can, cause: Hey, this is one history lesson most people probably will not mind read
Ubknown facts
Not many people know this, but the Association of Chief Police Officers is spending £9 million per year of taxpayers' cash on tracking "domestic extremists", which is their label for people who "seek to prevent something from happening or to change legislation or domestic policy, but attempt to do so outside of the normal democratic process". That's the ACPO definition of 'democratic', of course.
Sunday, 28 February 2010
The Day we received a bomb at our home.
My eldest Grandson Adam Mellor, was one year and a few month old. On a weekday in 1989, his father, my son, Stuart John Mellor, was in the habit of bringing him to our home at 118, Birches Barn Road, where we would have him for several hours, whilst our daughter in law did some part time work. We loved having him. Stuart usually arrived at about 8.30pm and his visits coincided with the visit of a post lady, we had her for years. My wife, collected the post, and put it on the Kitchen Table, it was near Christmas, and amongst the post was a small colourfully wrapped packet. My wife, said, "someone has sent you a Christmas present"
I opened all my mail, with a paper knife, I slit open the bottom of the package. I then saw the tell tale wires, which my knife has not touched. I said, Thia may be a bomb and threw it into the hallway. It did not detonate. My wife, took the child outside, the back door, onto the lawn. My son, open the front door, and kicked the object onto the front lawn, again it did not detonate. I telephoned "999" and reported the incident. The operator said," two more, one to the Chief Constable and one to Superintendent V Morris, at Birmingham Road, have been deteted at the Sorting Office.
In the interim period, the police had arrived. The used a waste disposal Lorry, to stop all traffic at Birches Barn Road and St Phillips Avenue, and in a few minutes, had shut sown Birches Barn Road, completely. It remained like that for the next five hours. The Police did not examine the packet. The Bomb Disposal team, Army where called. They sent in the small tractor on caterpillar tracks and camera. They kept in touch with me, via open telephone. At about 12md they announced the bomb, was an High Explosive charge, with incendiary elements, which if it had detonated, would have caused serious injury and a fire. It was their intention to detonate it in situ. We had to withdraw from the house, into the rear orchard. The detonation took place, it made a 3foot, wide, by 1 foot deep hole in the lawn, and dislodged 8 roof tiles on the verandah. The incident was over. I made a formal statement, and received a a call from Geoffrey Dear, commiserating with me, a similar call from Vic Morris, who was an old Friend. Invitation to the Incident Room followed, and 6 weeks later the enquiries into the three bombs, were curtailed. Who was responsible. I do not know.There were many theories, IRA, BLF, my former service experieneces., in Palestine It came to naught. An unpleasant experience.
I opened all my mail, with a paper knife, I slit open the bottom of the package. I then saw the tell tale wires, which my knife has not touched. I said, Thia may be a bomb and threw it into the hallway. It did not detonate. My wife, took the child outside, the back door, onto the lawn. My son, open the front door, and kicked the object onto the front lawn, again it did not detonate. I telephoned "999" and reported the incident. The operator said," two more, one to the Chief Constable and one to Superintendent V Morris, at Birmingham Road, have been deteted at the Sorting Office.
In the interim period, the police had arrived. The used a waste disposal Lorry, to stop all traffic at Birches Barn Road and St Phillips Avenue, and in a few minutes, had shut sown Birches Barn Road, completely. It remained like that for the next five hours. The Police did not examine the packet. The Bomb Disposal team, Army where called. They sent in the small tractor on caterpillar tracks and camera. They kept in touch with me, via open telephone. At about 12md they announced the bomb, was an High Explosive charge, with incendiary elements, which if it had detonated, would have caused serious injury and a fire. It was their intention to detonate it in situ. We had to withdraw from the house, into the rear orchard. The detonation took place, it made a 3foot, wide, by 1 foot deep hole in the lawn, and dislodged 8 roof tiles on the verandah. The incident was over. I made a formal statement, and received a a call from Geoffrey Dear, commiserating with me, a similar call from Vic Morris, who was an old Friend. Invitation to the Incident Room followed, and 6 weeks later the enquiries into the three bombs, were curtailed. Who was responsible. I do not know.There were many theories, IRA, BLF, my former service experieneces., in Palestine It came to naught. An unpleasant experience.
Saturday, 27 February 2010
Some Person are not lovers of history and the Past
I was posted to West Bromwich Police Station, in 1965, I was not there long. I did have an opportunity of visiting the old unused cells, and discovered that th No. 1 The Occurrence Books, from the passing of the County Police Act, were intactm dry and stacked in 25 years piles. A complete history of the Police station, its visitors, its criminals and it good deeds. I did not return until 1972. The old police station had been destroyed in the name of progress.
I checked the station on assuming command of the sub-division. I went into No.1 Cell, and found the books still in tact. I spoke to the Borough Librarian and archivist, and told him of the books.He was intrigued. The Divisional commander, known from now on as DC, had changed B had left and other B had assumed command, in 1974, to coincide with the new amalgamated Police Service, we where no longer a Force.
I spoke to him, about utilising the cell, but preserving the books. He was not pleased. He asked me to leave it to him, He would deal with it.
I took a day off, the following week, I was on the upper floors a few days later, when Sergeant S, who had always worked in the Divisional Office, Said to me "You can use the cell now, the gaffer told me to take the books to the cupola and burn them. It took three journies with the Divisional van" I remember, he appeared to have a sardonic smile. I thanked him. I never metntioned i tagain. Years later, I was asked by the very efficient, Museum controller in the new West Midlands Police, where all the books had gone from the old West Bromwich Division. I advised him of their disposal. I will not repeat his remarks, something about "Attila, the......."
I checked the station on assuming command of the sub-division. I went into No.1 Cell, and found the books still in tact. I spoke to the Borough Librarian and archivist, and told him of the books.He was intrigued. The Divisional commander, known from now on as DC, had changed B had left and other B had assumed command, in 1974, to coincide with the new amalgamated Police Service, we where no longer a Force.
I spoke to him, about utilising the cell, but preserving the books. He was not pleased. He asked me to leave it to him, He would deal with it.
I took a day off, the following week, I was on the upper floors a few days later, when Sergeant S, who had always worked in the Divisional Office, Said to me "You can use the cell now, the gaffer told me to take the books to the cupola and burn them. It took three journies with the Divisional van" I remember, he appeared to have a sardonic smile. I thanked him. I never metntioned i tagain. Years later, I was asked by the very efficient, Museum controller in the new West Midlands Police, where all the books had gone from the old West Bromwich Division. I advised him of their disposal. I will not repeat his remarks, something about "Attila, the......."
The Gentle Mander, Wightwick Manor.
Sir Geoffrey and Lady Mander, were still living at the Manor, when I was at Compton. When he was away, the house, was special attention. Sir Geoffrey was a magistrate, and an important one. The number of documents he signed was tremendous. It was usually on a Friday pm after due notice. The household was more relaxed than The Mount, but both were was easy to talk to. He usually told me a story, his favourite, being when with a group of bankers, who with his title and house, thought he was a Conservative. He delighted in telling them he supported the Labour Party., after they had attacked Labours leading figures. He had a good sense of humour. Lady Mander, was a cultivated person, interested, in the ways of the locality and delighted in the stories, of our various problems, with the new arrivals in our area. In the summer, at parties, there was a few traffic problems, but a lot of personalities, film stars, stage stars, poets and politicians. A real eye opener sometimes. He never forgot however was on duty, and personally took us for refreshments. As a magistrate I had to dirnk whatever, he gave me. Ha. Ha. He generousely donated the property to the National Trust. A fine gesture, by a fine couple.
Friday, 26 February 2010
The Mander of the Mount, Tettenhall Wood
The Manders I met, during the period 1950 to 1955, whilst stationed as a Constable at Tettenhall and Compton, and living at Tettenhall Wood.
I was the fist constable to be stationed at Tettenhall Wood. The Compton sub-section had grown out of proportion with the development of the Tettenhall Wood and Castlecroft estates. We had at this time many of the old families of Wolverhampton, within a decade to be dispersed. The Manders were probably the most important. My memories.
Lady Mander and Daisy St Clair Mander, Mother and daughter lived at The Mount, Tettenhall Wood, a impressive Victorian mansion. One butler, one gardened, I remember, they lived opposite the Mount in semi-detached houses, built at the same time as the Mount. The Butler name, I feel, was Rochester.I visited four times before this house was sold(I would not mention the name of the man who bought it)My visits, were usually confined to taking documents to Miss Mander, for signature, she was a magistrates. You arranged your visit via the butler. My first visit, was to see Lady Mander. She had asked specifically for me, and I was intrigued. I made my first visit, and rang the long pull bell at the door(still in situ)the Butler answered and escorted me, helmet under right arm(Dixon of Dock Green fashion)to the Minstrels Gallery, where sat, this charming elderly lady, who invited me to sit, and offered coffee. She chatted about my service life, my family, told me of her delight at living at the Mount. She then said, “we have discovered in my late husbands gun cabinet Two Steyr Rifles”, I do not think we should have the. What do I do. I explained, the surrender position, which I would deal with. She then said, “I will call Daisy, my daughter”. This she did by alerting the butler. Miss Mander, arrived, I was formally introduced(very embarrassed)Miss mander, who was blunt and to the point, said, “The cleaners from the village, say you are a countryman, and shoot” I agreed. She said, “You can shoot in out grounds abound 6acres at that time. Will you kill the foxes. “I responded, “I will shoot any vermin on your grounds.”. I made three more journeys. Lady Mander died, and the property sold. A link with the past.
I was the fist constable to be stationed at Tettenhall Wood. The Compton sub-section had grown out of proportion with the development of the Tettenhall Wood and Castlecroft estates. We had at this time many of the old families of Wolverhampton, within a decade to be dispersed. The Manders were probably the most important. My memories.
Lady Mander and Daisy St Clair Mander, Mother and daughter lived at The Mount, Tettenhall Wood, a impressive Victorian mansion. One butler, one gardened, I remember, they lived opposite the Mount in semi-detached houses, built at the same time as the Mount. The Butler name, I feel, was Rochester.I visited four times before this house was sold(I would not mention the name of the man who bought it)My visits, were usually confined to taking documents to Miss Mander, for signature, she was a magistrates. You arranged your visit via the butler. My first visit, was to see Lady Mander. She had asked specifically for me, and I was intrigued. I made my first visit, and rang the long pull bell at the door(still in situ)the Butler answered and escorted me, helmet under right arm(Dixon of Dock Green fashion)to the Minstrels Gallery, where sat, this charming elderly lady, who invited me to sit, and offered coffee. She chatted about my service life, my family, told me of her delight at living at the Mount. She then said, “we have discovered in my late husbands gun cabinet Two Steyr Rifles”, I do not think we should have the. What do I do. I explained, the surrender position, which I would deal with. She then said, “I will call Daisy, my daughter”. This she did by alerting the butler. Miss Mander, arrived, I was formally introduced(very embarrassed)Miss mander, who was blunt and to the point, said, “The cleaners from the village, say you are a countryman, and shoot” I agreed. She said, “You can shoot in out grounds abound 6acres at that time. Will you kill the foxes. “I responded, “I will shoot any vermin on your grounds.”. I made three more journeys. Lady Mander died, and the property sold. A link with the past.
Wednesday, 24 February 2010
During the time that I was a Police Constable, at Tettenhall and Compton, it was necessary to visit Wrottesley Hall, seat of the Wrottesley family. The estate was at this time (1950 to 1955)quite extensive. The hall was marked for "special attention" which meants that any police officers, in the vicinity should walk around the hall, be watchful, but not be obvious. I enjoyed visiting the hall, and the lake(pool)on which there were Black swans, beloved by the 4th Baron Wrottesley. One april afternoon, I walked around the hall, and ended up by the swans which I loved to watch. I had been in position about three minutes, when I saw a man approaching he pool, He was dressed in a nondescript raincoat and an old trilby. I thought, vagrant, but the man continued to walk towards me. He then said, "enjoying the swans" A cultured voice. This was no vagrant. I replied, "Yes" He then said, "They are from Australia" He continued to talk to me, about various subjects. He then said, "Would you like a cup of tea". My reply, was "Yes My Lord" I went into the hall, and he disappeared, and came back with two cups of tea and a tray. I enjoyed my team explained our system of supervision, And left, I never saw hime again. I was impressed by this man, with a title, and the ability to talk to anyone, without side. I never saw hime again. I was quite upset when the 5th Baron, sold the estate
Diamond Jubilee medal. Open scope.
National servicemen and Hostilies only personnel, before the passing of the National service Act, have received no recognition, although many served in dangerous situations, which did not qualify them for a campaign medal. The medal would cost pence, certainly a lot less than the recently issued lapel badge, cost. This may be the last time, men and women who served their Sovereign and country, can be acknowledged. Normally medals are issued to existing members of the armed forces and establishment figures. The rank and file are as usual forgotten. They to are proud and remember their serviceand devotion to their country.The government should use this opportunity to remember the service of a dwindling group of men and women.
This is a petition on the Prime Minister Website to widen the scope of the medal, being considered at this time
Please consider signing it.
This is a petition on the Prime Minister Website to widen the scope of the medal, being considered at this time
Please consider signing it.
Tuesday, 23 February 2010
A man building a Battleship
During the period 1950 to 1955, I was stationed at Tettenhall and Compton, both beats with a responsibility for Wrottesley Park, which at that time, consisted of hutted sections each side of the road(then called Perton Lane), The communal site, near to the York Farm, and the remnants of huts and control towers on Per ton Airfield. Most of these hutments, had electricity toilet facilities, and most of the inhabitants were former members of the Polish Armed, Forces, a few Displaced, and a few English, awaiting new accommodation. Most of the inhabitants were law abiding and hard working, We had few characters. One family who lived near what is the Brads haw Farm Shop, were a Polish former soldier, his English Wife, and two children His wife, had warned us, that his wartime experiences, were effecting his behaviour, and we always called when in the vicinity Crass, known as POLICE GRASS, told me that the Pole, had gathered hundreds of corrugated sheets and woodwork and was starting to build something. His wife, called in to the police station, and said, she was leaving him. About 2 months later, I went passed the hut, and saw a distinct shaped of a ship, some 100 yards long and 16 feet wide, with a deck, and a guns made out of wood. The Polish former soldier was working his ship, when I called. I conversed with him, he said, "Police Mellor, I am going to sail to Poland and liberate my country". Admirable sentiments, but I could see that he was seriously ill. I had a few weeks later, had to call and serve documents on the Polish man. I went to his hut, he opened the door, he was immaturely dressed in Polish uniform, completed with full marching ebbing order. He had a rifle hand made, a beautiful replica , a rather frightening Great War bayonet, fixed in position. I served the document on him. He lifted the rifle and moved towards e. I closed the door, the bayonet, came straight through the door. I beat a diplomatic retreat. I went to the nearest Police pillar Ergs road junction, and spoke to my Sergeant. Henry Rawlins on, an educated, man, who I greatly admired. He said, "John,you are antagonising this man,leave him alone, return to the station". This I did. It was lunch time. I had my lunch, when PC Ford,a fellow uxonian, said, The Sergeant wants you. The Polish man, is marching up the HOlyhead Road, A41, towards wolverhampton, with miles of traffic behind him. He threatens anyone who attempts to stop him .. He is in full military dress. The Sergeant, told me that he has alerted the TA at Danescourt. They were turning out a Sergeant and a Platoon, to stop him. The Sergeant and I was to join them. We arrived at the A 41, in time to see the military, bring the Polish man down to the ground and disarm him.One of the TA soldiers was injured. The Polish man, was placed in the cells, seen by a doctor, and detained under the Mental Health Act. He was removed to St Georges, Stafford. I never saw him again. Sergeant Rawlinson, had the decency to apologise to me, and said, I had had a lucky escape.The TA soldiers, were Mentioned in Dispatches, or the civil equivalent, by the General Officer, Western Command. A tragic stoy, of a good man, suffering for his wartime experiences
Sunday, 21 February 2010
September 1958 A meet a vagrant, I knew.
In 1957, I was appointed to be Village Constable, at Lower Penn, Wolverhampton, a upper class district of wolverhampton.My station, was in Springhill Park. The beat was divided by the A449, The SW Trunk Road, no M5 in those days. One side of the beat was Lower Penn, the other Penn Common, both different.It was my want, to be on the main road, in the mornings, as a large number of vagrants, passed in both directions, some coming out of New Cross, Wolverhampton, some travelling to New Cross, from Kidderminster.
I noticed a man sitting on the bench on Lloyd Hill, A449, he did not quite fit the description of the average vagrant. He looked familiar. I decided to speak to him. As I approached him, He asid, "Hello, Jack, how is your Dad". I was astounded. I immediately, recognised him, it was "Jim", a second world War veteran, a hard working man.I will not go into details, but his marriage had broken down, and his established life disrupted, his sister who we all knew, would have helped him, but he was too proud to ask. I took him to my Police Station, my wife, fed him, I telephoned my father. He contactesd his sister, and they asked my to get him home. I took him to Bone Mill Lane, Wolverhampton, then the Coop diary, with regular transport to FOLe, Nr Uttoxeter. I got him a ride. and he returned to his native heath. is saw him several times after, he was always grateful. Whether he is alive or dead I do not know. An act, which I remember.
I noticed a man sitting on the bench on Lloyd Hill, A449, he did not quite fit the description of the average vagrant. He looked familiar. I decided to speak to him. As I approached him, He asid, "Hello, Jack, how is your Dad". I was astounded. I immediately, recognised him, it was "Jim", a second world War veteran, a hard working man.I will not go into details, but his marriage had broken down, and his established life disrupted, his sister who we all knew, would have helped him, but he was too proud to ask. I took him to my Police Station, my wife, fed him, I telephoned my father. He contactesd his sister, and they asked my to get him home. I took him to Bone Mill Lane, Wolverhampton, then the Coop diary, with regular transport to FOLe, Nr Uttoxeter. I got him a ride. and he returned to his native heath. is saw him several times after, he was always grateful. Whether he is alive or dead I do not know. An act, which I remember.
Saturday, 20 February 2010
A sharp reminder of my schooldays.
I attended Bradley Street, Church of England Primary and Junior school, Uttoxeter. Some teachers, remain in your memory, others disappear. I remember in particular, Miss Kingshott, a tall, a dark,angular lady. Her teaching was always forceful, her discipline strong. I remember her telling us of a visit to Oberamagau and the Passion play. I do not think, I thought of her again. After the Royal Marines, I became a police constable in the Staffordshire Constabulary, later to be the Staffordshire County Police,I was stationed in Willenhall Division, at Tettenhall Station. Bill ford from Uttoxeter, was on my shift. In 1951, I became the second man at Compton sub-section, which comprised the villages and hamlets of Tettenhall Wood, Compton, Finchfield, Trescott and Wightwick. Very little supervision, only means of communication, a Police Pillar at Tettenhall Wood Cross Roads.In 1952, about April time, we changed from flat caps to Helmets, and on my helmets first outing, I was in School road, when a shrill voice, behind me, said, "John Mellor" I turned and said, Yes, Miss". Automatic reaction. It was Miss Kingshott, a little older, but still very much with it. She explained, she was staying with her sister, in School Road, I gathered, but did not previously know, that Miss Kingshott was a native of Tettenhall Wood, although she lived in Uttoxeter for years, I left a year later. I never saw Miss Kingsott again. Pity
Wednesday, 17 February 2010
Elections are comionbg
Elections approach.
The elections always bring headaches to Graiseley Ward in the City of Wolverhampton. For the last 2o years, we have suffered from personation, interference with postal votes, the dead voting and other problems. usually associated with other countries, or parts of Birmingham The approaching elections, have a subtle change, brought about by one man. For years I complained that the dead were voting, Senior council officers and councillors, told me it was impossible to stop, if in fact, it, happened.. I was unimpressed. I have now been told that our new Electoral Registration officer, being made aware of past allegations. arranged a liaison between the office of the Registrar, and all deaths reported are now removed from the electoral register Average deaths over the 20 years 149 per annum. One door closed. At last.
Personation. This requires the cooperation of landlords, tenants and political representatives. The polling cards are send to the addresses of all voters. The address may contain 6 polling cards:, students who have left and moved address, or are lodgers or other transients. . The cars are collected , redistributed and despite the penalties involved personation takes place.Very difficult to prove, Requires high grade technical ability. Postal voting. This is usual;; confined to the old, those without English or the illiterate. They require help and can get it from the Presiding Officer at the Polling Booth. In practice, the unscrupulous, get the voting forms, complete them, and the selected elderly are unaware, as to what has happened. Difficult to detect. In my view. based on many elections, the "floating vote" takes Graiseley, with the aid of the improper voting practices.
The elections always bring headaches to Graiseley Ward in the City of Wolverhampton. For the last 2o years, we have suffered from personation, interference with postal votes, the dead voting and other problems. usually associated with other countries, or parts of Birmingham The approaching elections, have a subtle change, brought about by one man. For years I complained that the dead were voting, Senior council officers and councillors, told me it was impossible to stop, if in fact, it, happened.. I was unimpressed. I have now been told that our new Electoral Registration officer, being made aware of past allegations. arranged a liaison between the office of the Registrar, and all deaths reported are now removed from the electoral register Average deaths over the 20 years 149 per annum. One door closed. At last.
Personation. This requires the cooperation of landlords, tenants and political representatives. The polling cards are send to the addresses of all voters. The address may contain 6 polling cards:, students who have left and moved address, or are lodgers or other transients. . The cars are collected , redistributed and despite the penalties involved personation takes place.Very difficult to prove, Requires high grade technical ability. Postal voting. This is usual;; confined to the old, those without English or the illiterate. They require help and can get it from the Presiding Officer at the Polling Booth. In practice, the unscrupulous, get the voting forms, complete them, and the selected elderly are unaware, as to what has happened. Difficult to detect. In my view. based on many elections, the "floating vote" takes Graiseley, with the aid of the improper voting practices.
Monday, 15 February 2010
Friday, 12 February 2010
A minister was completing s temperance sermon, with great emphasis, he said, "If I had all the beer in the world, I"d take it and pour it into the river"
With even greater emphasis he said, "And if I had all the wine in the world, I"d take it and pour it into the river.
And then finally, said if I had all the whiskey in the world I"d take it and pour it into the river.
Sermon completed he sat down
The hymn leader stood and very cautiously announced with a smile, nearly laughing, For our closing hymn let us sing:
Hymn 365. "Shall we gather at the river"
With even greater emphasis he said, "And if I had all the wine in the world, I"d take it and pour it into the river.
And then finally, said if I had all the whiskey in the world I"d take it and pour it into the river.
Sermon completed he sat down
The hymn leader stood and very cautiously announced with a smile, nearly laughing, For our closing hymn let us sing:
Hymn 365. "Shall we gather at the river"
Thursday, 28 January 2010
Thursday, 21 January 2010
Over here
Over Here.
The first American troops to arrive in our part of the world arrived in 1942. The came to what became know as Sudbury Camp(nearly in Marching ton)A hospital was built at the present site of HMP Prison. A great marshalling yard was built outside Sudbury Railway Station. The first American troops were transportation types, not infantrymen. Firstly, they were all white, then black soldiers arrived. My First Observations.. The amount of money they had compared with our troops, the food they ate, the style of dancing, and their smoking packet after packet of cigarettes. . Advantages, they had a steady supply of chewing gum, some of us, managed to get into the base hospital, when Bob Hope, Bing Crosby and other Hollywood stars appeared. Exciting in the life of 1940”s teenagers. Dislikes. The various obvious colour bar. White troops on one night, black on the other. All towns in reachable destinations had colour and white nights. Officers, had no bounds. Black officers, were a rarity. Trouble between our troops on leave ( already had been at war 2 years), and mainly the white Americans. It came as a surprise to our local soldiers, that Americans did not rely on fists. Our local Police, had problems, but mainly, held their own, aided, by the Snowballs”, white and black, who hit hard and sometimes fatally, in any disturbances.. Highlights. American armoured cars, with 20 Thompson sub machine guns, to collect the payroll from Barclays Bank. All traffic stopped, the bank ringed with guards, and the large trunks of money brought out.. Just like the American films. It was exciting at first, then we grew used to it. Our young ladies and those from outlying districts, all attended American sponsored dances. No alcohol, but cakes of all types. For two years, they were a permanent feature, then in 1944, they began to move. Our next interest, was the Italian Prisoners of war. I will tell that story later
The first American troops to arrive in our part of the world arrived in 1942. The came to what became know as Sudbury Camp(nearly in Marching ton)A hospital was built at the present site of HMP Prison. A great marshalling yard was built outside Sudbury Railway Station. The first American troops were transportation types, not infantrymen. Firstly, they were all white, then black soldiers arrived. My First Observations.. The amount of money they had compared with our troops, the food they ate, the style of dancing, and their smoking packet after packet of cigarettes. . Advantages, they had a steady supply of chewing gum, some of us, managed to get into the base hospital, when Bob Hope, Bing Crosby and other Hollywood stars appeared. Exciting in the life of 1940”s teenagers. Dislikes. The various obvious colour bar. White troops on one night, black on the other. All towns in reachable destinations had colour and white nights. Officers, had no bounds. Black officers, were a rarity. Trouble between our troops on leave ( already had been at war 2 years), and mainly the white Americans. It came as a surprise to our local soldiers, that Americans did not rely on fists. Our local Police, had problems, but mainly, held their own, aided, by the Snowballs”, white and black, who hit hard and sometimes fatally, in any disturbances.. Highlights. American armoured cars, with 20 Thompson sub machine guns, to collect the payroll from Barclays Bank. All traffic stopped, the bank ringed with guards, and the large trunks of money brought out.. Just like the American films. It was exciting at first, then we grew used to it. Our young ladies and those from outlying districts, all attended American sponsored dances. No alcohol, but cakes of all types. For two years, they were a permanent feature, then in 1944, they began to move. Our next interest, was the Italian Prisoners of war. I will tell that story later
Monday, 18 January 2010
Sunday, 17 January 2010
police overtime
Police overtime«
According to new figures, one in five of constables is now earning more than £40,000 a year by working extra hours after their shifts.Figures released under the Freedom of Information Act revealed that of West Midlands Police’s 6,816 bobbies, 1,398 were paid more than £40,000 last year.More than 12,000 PCs in 35 of the 51 forces in England, Scotland and Wales claimed more than £6,000 each in overtime last year – a rise of 20 per cent on their salaries.The figures found that in some cases PCs were more than doubling their annual pay through overtime, with some earning more than their chief inspectors and superintendents.Officers in some rural forces raked in more than £25,000 in overtime while nearly 500 topped up their salaries with more than £15,000.Earlier this month, it emerged West Midland cops raked in £45 million in overtime payments in the past two years.I wonder if a few pensioners could manage on the money??
According to new figures, one in five of constables is now earning more than £40,000 a year by working extra hours after their shifts.Figures released under the Freedom of Information Act revealed that of West Midlands Police’s 6,816 bobbies, 1,398 were paid more than £40,000 last year.More than 12,000 PCs in 35 of the 51 forces in England, Scotland and Wales claimed more than £6,000 each in overtime last year – a rise of 20 per cent on their salaries.The figures found that in some cases PCs were more than doubling their annual pay through overtime, with some earning more than their chief inspectors and superintendents.Officers in some rural forces raked in more than £25,000 in overtime while nearly 500 topped up their salaries with more than £15,000.Earlier this month, it emerged West Midland cops raked in £45 million in overtime payments in the past two years.I wonder if a few pensioners could manage on the money??
Friday, 15 January 2010
Councillors expenses.
Expenses. Councillors
All our Members of Parliament and councilors, are happy. The press has let off steam. the radio jockeys have flogged the issue to death and now is the time to forget. Look at the Members of Parliament, who were going to resign and have now changed their minds.Look what draconian powers, have been passed by Parliament. It would not frighten a dead sheep. The expanses fiddle, is in full tilt again. We are now all obeying the new rules.Let us look further, at Councilors, who receive a standard amount. Special responsibility allowances but FORGET to tell us of the extra allowances, they get for being on a myriad other special gravy trains... Fire, ambulance, police, regional structures, and at national level local authority associations and other attendant bodies. Some are on quangos, It it is estimated the some 600 councilors, earn more than Members of Parliament. I hope the Inland Revenue are aware.George Booby....
All our Members of Parliament and councilors, are happy. The press has let off steam. the radio jockeys have flogged the issue to death and now is the time to forget. Look at the Members of Parliament, who were going to resign and have now changed their minds.Look what draconian powers, have been passed by Parliament. It would not frighten a dead sheep. The expanses fiddle, is in full tilt again. We are now all obeying the new rules.Let us look further, at Councilors, who receive a standard amount. Special responsibility allowances but FORGET to tell us of the extra allowances, they get for being on a myriad other special gravy trains... Fire, ambulance, police, regional structures, and at national level local authority associations and other attendant bodies. Some are on quangos, It it is estimated the some 600 councilors, earn more than Members of Parliament. I hope the Inland Revenue are aware.George Booby....
Bus Pass
Bus pass«
Free bus passes for all pensioners is an "inefficient" use of public money which would be better used by "targeting" it at those most in need, according to a report. The findings of economics consultancy Oxera in the report, commissioned by town hall chiefs, appeared to urge the scrapping of free bus travel for all over-60s and a move to means-tested bus concessions. In a report for the Local Government Association, it said: "Better targeting at the scheme's intended beneficiaries would generate savings which could be made available to local authorities to support lower-cost travel for locally prioritised, additional concessions." Free bus passes for the over-60s were introduced by the Government last yearI suspected this would happen, it was too good to be true.John P Mellor President NPC Wolverhampton
Free bus passes for all pensioners is an "inefficient" use of public money which would be better used by "targeting" it at those most in need, according to a report. The findings of economics consultancy Oxera in the report, commissioned by town hall chiefs, appeared to urge the scrapping of free bus travel for all over-60s and a move to means-tested bus concessions. In a report for the Local Government Association, it said: "Better targeting at the scheme's intended beneficiaries would generate savings which could be made available to local authorities to support lower-cost travel for locally prioritised, additional concessions." Free bus passes for the over-60s were introduced by the Government last yearI suspected this would happen, it was too good to be true.John P Mellor President NPC Wolverhampton
a change of heart by the Conservatives
A change of Heart by the Conservatives (Read 10 times)
hans1928Junior Membermember is online
Joined: Jun 2009Gender: Male Posts: 54
A change of Heart by the Conservatives« Thread Started on Sept 21, 2009, 7:26pm »
Traditionally, the Conservative party, has always when in power nationally, made a joke of the Honours System(I accept Labour is worse)by awarding their paid and voluntary workers with political honours. e,g. Local chairman and regional officers, receiving awards from Knighthoods and damehoods, down to MBE. They have never hidden their intentions,. The awards are hidden by the term, fo r"Public and Political services to YourTown" The Conservatives will probably win the next General election. Let us hope, that the abuses of Labour, and the past abuse by the Conservatives of the honours sysem is not continue
hans1928Junior Membermember is online
Joined: Jun 2009Gender: Male Posts: 54
A change of Heart by the Conservatives« Thread Started on Sept 21, 2009, 7:26pm »
Traditionally, the Conservative party, has always when in power nationally, made a joke of the Honours System(I accept Labour is worse)by awarding their paid and voluntary workers with political honours. e,g. Local chairman and regional officers, receiving awards from Knighthoods and damehoods, down to MBE. They have never hidden their intentions,. The awards are hidden by the term, fo r"Public and Political services to YourTown" The Conservatives will probably win the next General election. Let us hope, that the abuses of Labour, and the past abuse by the Conservatives of the honours sysem is not continue
Municipal elections
Municipal Elections 2010 May« Thread Started on Sept 19, 2009, 6:32pm »
The elections are fast approaching and for th first time in my rather long life, I face a dilemma. I do not know who to vote for. I was a life long Conservative, but cannot in all honesty, vote in that manner in a ,municipal election in Wolverhampton I was hoping for the Pensioners convention and the City of Wolverhampton United ex service council, to put forward candidates. It cost nothing. No Penalty no deposits, just 12 signatures of support.The situation in Afghanistan, our appalling economic situation, the endless uncontrolled immigration, and the growth of fat right and left parties, means I should vote. This may mean that 2010 could be the year of the independents in municipal and national politics.. Where are all you rugged individuals. Let us know WHO you are, where you are standing and many of us will help you Hans1928
The elections are fast approaching and for th first time in my rather long life, I face a dilemma. I do not know who to vote for. I was a life long Conservative, but cannot in all honesty, vote in that manner in a ,municipal election in Wolverhampton I was hoping for the Pensioners convention and the City of Wolverhampton United ex service council, to put forward candidates. It cost nothing. No Penalty no deposits, just 12 signatures of support.The situation in Afghanistan, our appalling economic situation, the endless uncontrolled immigration, and the growth of fat right and left parties, means I should vote. This may mean that 2010 could be the year of the independents in municipal and national politics.. Where are all you rugged individuals. Let us know WHO you are, where you are standing and many of us will help you Hans1928
Hand cleansing materials.
Hand cleansing Unsuitable material« Thread Started on Aug 22, 2009, 8:59am »
Unfortunately, like most elderly people, I have to attend hospital frequently both locally, in Stafford and Haleswowen. I am pleased to report that on entry to wards and other departments, solutions are available to cleanse your hands. Ideal for most.The hand lotions are all alcohol based. This gives problems to some people. They prefer not to cleanse their hands.I am sure in this modern day and age, a suitable hand lotion, not alcohol based can be found. I understand that the current method is the cheapest, but clearly not the safest. There has to be a simple solution to this problem J Mellor 118 Birches Barn Road, Wolverhampton WV37BG 01902338904 This item was circulated to the press by John P Mellor. OBE., QSM., Ridder van den orde orange nassau: Vier dienst Kreuz mit bande, Commandtore and Cavalier, Polonia Restituta: Grosse Goldene-Ehrenzeichen
Unfortunately, like most elderly people, I have to attend hospital frequently both locally, in Stafford and Haleswowen. I am pleased to report that on entry to wards and other departments, solutions are available to cleanse your hands. Ideal for most.The hand lotions are all alcohol based. This gives problems to some people. They prefer not to cleanse their hands.I am sure in this modern day and age, a suitable hand lotion, not alcohol based can be found. I understand that the current method is the cheapest, but clearly not the safest. There has to be a simple solution to this problem J Mellor 118 Birches Barn Road, Wolverhampton WV37BG 01902338904 This item was circulated to the press by John P Mellor. OBE., QSM., Ridder van den orde orange nassau: Vier dienst Kreuz mit bande, Commandtore and Cavalier, Polonia Restituta: Grosse Goldene-Ehrenzeichen
Care of the aged.
care of the aged(some chance)« Thread Started on Aug 22, 2009, 8:49am »
One of the problems of growing old is the fear of going into residential and nursing care. Fear of losing a home, hard fought for.; fear of not leaving Dependants a little nest egg. Only in England do we have this problem. Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland are caring enough to protect the elderly and infirm from UN-necessary worry and harassment. How they pay for it, is a mystery.The family of a Worcester woman, have successfully appealed to the Health Service Ombudsman, over the decision of the NHS Worcestershire decision, that Alzheimer's and circulatory dementia was not a health problem. This gives hope to many. It may result in a uniform form of practice with regard to mental illness. If in doubt APPEAL.It does appear that the NHS(read Government)does not want to admit elderly and infirm people have health issues, because it wants to save money to waste on other projects.It does not want to pay for their care. May I conclude in quoting from a man called Anthony Blair, in 1997. "I do not want my children to grow up in a country where the only way frugal pensioners can get long term care is by selling their home" We now know what his promises are worth. He will be rewarded for his care and consideration be becoming the first President of the European Union.. In the next General Election, my only question to canvassers will be "do you intend to follow the last government, and force me to sell my home, to look after my wife and I, we are far from well, at this time" I look forward to their answer.John P Mellor OBE., QSM. President National Pensioners Convention City of Wolvehampton. Chairman City of Wolverhampton and District United Ex Service Council WV37BG 01902338904
Link to Post
One of the problems of growing old is the fear of going into residential and nursing care. Fear of losing a home, hard fought for.; fear of not leaving Dependants a little nest egg. Only in England do we have this problem. Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland are caring enough to protect the elderly and infirm from UN-necessary worry and harassment. How they pay for it, is a mystery.The family of a Worcester woman, have successfully appealed to the Health Service Ombudsman, over the decision of the NHS Worcestershire decision, that Alzheimer's and circulatory dementia was not a health problem. This gives hope to many. It may result in a uniform form of practice with regard to mental illness. If in doubt APPEAL.It does appear that the NHS(read Government)does not want to admit elderly and infirm people have health issues, because it wants to save money to waste on other projects.It does not want to pay for their care. May I conclude in quoting from a man called Anthony Blair, in 1997. "I do not want my children to grow up in a country where the only way frugal pensioners can get long term care is by selling their home" We now know what his promises are worth. He will be rewarded for his care and consideration be becoming the first President of the European Union.. In the next General Election, my only question to canvassers will be "do you intend to follow the last government, and force me to sell my home, to look after my wife and I, we are far from well, at this time" I look forward to their answer.John P Mellor OBE., QSM. President National Pensioners Convention City of Wolvehampton. Chairman City of Wolverhampton and District United Ex Service Council WV37BG 01902338904
Link to Post
Burma Star association
The Burma Star association.The primary object of the Burma Star Association is to relieve need. hardship amongst those men and women who served with his Majesty"s or Allied forces or in the nursing services during the Burma Campaign and are BURMA STAR holders.Assistance is also given to their widows, widowers and immediate dependantsThe benevolence secretary can be contacted at 4, Lower Belgrave Street, London SW1WOLA Telephone number 020782342773 Fax. 02077307882 or email burmastar@btconnect.comJ Mellor. Wolverhampton and district United Ex service council. WV37BG 01902338904
Thursday, 14 January 2010
Unlucky Goldsmith
Unlucky Goldsmith.
Tarlok Mittu, was a Asian goldsmith, who had premises in Staveley Road, Wolverhampton, some 150 yards from the then Divisonal Police Station, Dun stall Road. I went there in 1969 staying until late 1972. Mr. Mittu, helped with translations, never charging. He struck me as quiet man, although a clever goldsmith. In 197o, on a Saturday afternoon, I had just completed duty at a Wolverhampton Wanderers Football match.and I was in my first floor office, removing my outer clothing, before travelling home. I heard loud voices, and went to the top of the stairs, to hear an officer, tell someone, they could not see me, until Monday morning. I shouted down, to send up the person, who was endeavoring to see me. Up come Tarlok Mittu, he looked tired, and worried. He sat down and told me an amazing story/ He had travelled to London on the Friday evening previously, to met an Asian, who was obtaining him some £5000 worth of bar gold, for his business. Gold was then controlled, although the government, has announced that restrictions were to be withdrawn. This Asian had told Mittu, that the deal was with an Hatton Garden reputable dealer, was above board, but the amount was slightly over the permitted maximum. Mitta had £5000 in c ash, £500 in a Bankers Draft for the middle man. He went with the Asian to Hatton Garden, paid his £5000. gave the agent, the draft. and was on his way out of the building, with hius gold, when they were surrounded by nine police officers. Mittu was told that he was under arrest, for illegal dealing and was taken to Hammersmith Police Station, he did not go into the charge room, but into a CID Office. The gold was on the table. so was the money, but not the bankers draft. No officers, gave there names. Mittu was not charged with anything. He was then pushed through a rear door, no gold, no money, no charge. He went back into the front of the station. He explained what had happened. He was told to leave, as no one would speak to him about his so called arrest. He went to New Scotland Yard, and was told at the enquiry office, that there was no trace of him being in a police station, and was threatened with arrest/ Mittu decided to return to Wolverhampton. For some reason, he wanted my advice.Mittu described in detail, the room he had been kept in, and the men who had arrested him. He gave me a name and exact desciption of the agent, who had made the arrangements. I telephoned Hammersmith Police Station, I asked to speak to as senior officer. I was asked by the Station Sergeant. What is this about. I replied, I want to make a complaint" He said, I will take it" I made it clear that I wish to speak to a Superintendent at least. Whilst, I was on the telephone, I heard voices, one clearly, said, "It only about the Paki" ".f... him" After three more calls, I could see, that I was not going to get anywhere. All at this Police Station, knew what was going on. It took me a hour, to finally converse, with A DAC, a high ranking officer, he tried to put me off, but I told him, that if the room was not forensically searched for gold presence, and station staff interviewed I would inform the press. I was fed up at being fobbed off.Two hours later, the DAC telephoned me. He has found gold particles in he CID Room. He had suspended one Inceptor, 2 sergeants and six constables.He also asked me to be available at 2pm on Monday with Mr. Mittu. He would personally interview us. He did not do so a Chief Supt from a special squad with an Inspector took statements/ We were told the gold had been recovered, so had the money, and the Asian agent arrested, he was in custody I HAD CLEARLY FOUND AN HONEST MAN/Some months later, Mittu and I were warned for magistrates court, strangely, the committal took place, and the men concerned appeared at the Old Bailey. Neither of us were called. Some of the men pleaded, others did not. They all were sentenced to long periods of imprisonment. Clearly Mr. Mittu was pleased We remained friends until his untimely death. His young wife, died a little time before that. They both desire children. They never achieved it.Mitta left a brother, also a goldsmith and other relatives. The Mittus have a high respect in our community. Fair, honest and skilled artisans/The case, caused hardly a comment from the local CID, several times later, I had minor problems with them. They most ended up in the famous Serious Crime Squad, or other rag bag units. I had committed the cardinal sin. I had listened to an Asian. Not the done thing in 1972 I was frequently reminded by senior detectives, that this case had not "Done me any good" I always felt vindicated.
Tarlok Mittu, was a Asian goldsmith, who had premises in Staveley Road, Wolverhampton, some 150 yards from the then Divisonal Police Station, Dun stall Road. I went there in 1969 staying until late 1972. Mr. Mittu, helped with translations, never charging. He struck me as quiet man, although a clever goldsmith. In 197o, on a Saturday afternoon, I had just completed duty at a Wolverhampton Wanderers Football match.and I was in my first floor office, removing my outer clothing, before travelling home. I heard loud voices, and went to the top of the stairs, to hear an officer, tell someone, they could not see me, until Monday morning. I shouted down, to send up the person, who was endeavoring to see me. Up come Tarlok Mittu, he looked tired, and worried. He sat down and told me an amazing story/ He had travelled to London on the Friday evening previously, to met an Asian, who was obtaining him some £5000 worth of bar gold, for his business. Gold was then controlled, although the government, has announced that restrictions were to be withdrawn. This Asian had told Mittu, that the deal was with an Hatton Garden reputable dealer, was above board, but the amount was slightly over the permitted maximum. Mitta had £5000 in c ash, £500 in a Bankers Draft for the middle man. He went with the Asian to Hatton Garden, paid his £5000. gave the agent, the draft. and was on his way out of the building, with hius gold, when they were surrounded by nine police officers. Mittu was told that he was under arrest, for illegal dealing and was taken to Hammersmith Police Station, he did not go into the charge room, but into a CID Office. The gold was on the table. so was the money, but not the bankers draft. No officers, gave there names. Mittu was not charged with anything. He was then pushed through a rear door, no gold, no money, no charge. He went back into the front of the station. He explained what had happened. He was told to leave, as no one would speak to him about his so called arrest. He went to New Scotland Yard, and was told at the enquiry office, that there was no trace of him being in a police station, and was threatened with arrest/ Mittu decided to return to Wolverhampton. For some reason, he wanted my advice.Mittu described in detail, the room he had been kept in, and the men who had arrested him. He gave me a name and exact desciption of the agent, who had made the arrangements. I telephoned Hammersmith Police Station, I asked to speak to as senior officer. I was asked by the Station Sergeant. What is this about. I replied, I want to make a complaint" He said, I will take it" I made it clear that I wish to speak to a Superintendent at least. Whilst, I was on the telephone, I heard voices, one clearly, said, "It only about the Paki" ".f... him" After three more calls, I could see, that I was not going to get anywhere. All at this Police Station, knew what was going on. It took me a hour, to finally converse, with A DAC, a high ranking officer, he tried to put me off, but I told him, that if the room was not forensically searched for gold presence, and station staff interviewed I would inform the press. I was fed up at being fobbed off.Two hours later, the DAC telephoned me. He has found gold particles in he CID Room. He had suspended one Inceptor, 2 sergeants and six constables.He also asked me to be available at 2pm on Monday with Mr. Mittu. He would personally interview us. He did not do so a Chief Supt from a special squad with an Inspector took statements/ We were told the gold had been recovered, so had the money, and the Asian agent arrested, he was in custody I HAD CLEARLY FOUND AN HONEST MAN/Some months later, Mittu and I were warned for magistrates court, strangely, the committal took place, and the men concerned appeared at the Old Bailey. Neither of us were called. Some of the men pleaded, others did not. They all were sentenced to long periods of imprisonment. Clearly Mr. Mittu was pleased We remained friends until his untimely death. His young wife, died a little time before that. They both desire children. They never achieved it.Mitta left a brother, also a goldsmith and other relatives. The Mittus have a high respect in our community. Fair, honest and skilled artisans/The case, caused hardly a comment from the local CID, several times later, I had minor problems with them. They most ended up in the famous Serious Crime Squad, or other rag bag units. I had committed the cardinal sin. I had listened to an Asian. Not the done thing in 1972 I was frequently reminded by senior detectives, that this case had not "Done me any good" I always felt vindicated.
Police Police Station Riot
TUMULTUOUS RIOTING 75 YEARS AGO
John P. Mellor
John Mellor served for many years in the police force in Bilston. Here he tells us about a riot that happened many years before he was there but which he researched for an article in the Police Gazette.
The cry of "Burn baby, burn" which have echoed through the ghettoes of Chicago, Los Angeles and Detroit may seem to be very remote from Bilston. The expression, however, could have well been used on Monday, 21 July 1919, by the crowd some 60 years ago, when a series of ugly incidents took place, culminating in the partial destruction of the local police station.
The trouble began during the early evening when two or three men, being the worse for drink, were said to have assaulted two police constables in Church Street. Near the Market Hall were soldiers who were home on leave and who joined in the melee with other people. The policemen were forced to walk away towards the town hall, followed by a crowd of people which became larger and larger and more violent. Near the town hall there was further trouble and the two constables had to draw their batons and break out of the crowd to reach the police station to get help and report the incident.
The ever-increasing mob followed them and at 11 p.m. the crowd was estimated to be several thousand strong. The mob ring-leaders began to demand that one of the constables, who for some reason was regarded with aversion by the crowd, should be turned out of the police station. Their demand not being granted, the crowd surrounded the station and tried to break the front door in, shouting: "Turn out ---- , we will have his blood."
During the next hour every window in the police station was shattered. A long perimeter wall was torn down and bricks were thrown at the front and side, while poles were fetched from a nearby yard to be used as battering rams to break down the doors. Then petrol was poured on the wooden door cases in an attempt to set the building on fire.
At this stage Supt. Rowbottam, the officer in charge, went out and tried to reason with the mob but without success. A brick was thrown and struck him, breaking his arm. P.C. Jarvis, who was with him, was struck under the eye.
Despite the efforts of the Police, who were forced to withdraw, the office and charge room were wrecked, the telephone line and the instrument destroyed, and the Superintendent's house next door ransacked before reinforcements from West Bromwich, Wednesbury and surrounding districts were brought in to disperse the crowd. It was 2 a.m. before they eventually left.
The Police Station after the riot
Three people were arrested as a result of the attack: two men and one woman, who appeared before the magistrates charged with "tumultuous rioting" and "causing malicious damage to the police station." The two male defendants were also charged with assault on the police. While the court was being held a large crowd surrounded the court house behind the police station.
The presiding magistrate found all three defendants guilty and penalties of 40s. and costs, with the alternative of 30 days' imprisonment, were imposed upon all three defendants, who were bound over to keep the peace. After the proceedings, the large crowd around the Police station was dispersed by the Police.
Next day a large crowd gathered in the town centre and by 11 p.m. some 3,000 people surrounded the town hall. The leaders were proposing to storm the police station when a discharged soldier named Wainwright addressed the crowd and appealed to them to go home.
He told the crowd that the police superintendent who had been injured had lost his only son in the war. Within minutes the crowd had dispersed and by midnight the first and only serious riot to take place in Bilston was over.
John P Mellor
John P. Mellor
John Mellor served for many years in the police force in Bilston. Here he tells us about a riot that happened many years before he was there but which he researched for an article in the Police Gazette.
The cry of "Burn baby, burn" which have echoed through the ghettoes of Chicago, Los Angeles and Detroit may seem to be very remote from Bilston. The expression, however, could have well been used on Monday, 21 July 1919, by the crowd some 60 years ago, when a series of ugly incidents took place, culminating in the partial destruction of the local police station.
The trouble began during the early evening when two or three men, being the worse for drink, were said to have assaulted two police constables in Church Street. Near the Market Hall were soldiers who were home on leave and who joined in the melee with other people. The policemen were forced to walk away towards the town hall, followed by a crowd of people which became larger and larger and more violent. Near the town hall there was further trouble and the two constables had to draw their batons and break out of the crowd to reach the police station to get help and report the incident.
The ever-increasing mob followed them and at 11 p.m. the crowd was estimated to be several thousand strong. The mob ring-leaders began to demand that one of the constables, who for some reason was regarded with aversion by the crowd, should be turned out of the police station. Their demand not being granted, the crowd surrounded the station and tried to break the front door in, shouting: "Turn out ---- , we will have his blood."
During the next hour every window in the police station was shattered. A long perimeter wall was torn down and bricks were thrown at the front and side, while poles were fetched from a nearby yard to be used as battering rams to break down the doors. Then petrol was poured on the wooden door cases in an attempt to set the building on fire.
At this stage Supt. Rowbottam, the officer in charge, went out and tried to reason with the mob but without success. A brick was thrown and struck him, breaking his arm. P.C. Jarvis, who was with him, was struck under the eye.
Despite the efforts of the Police, who were forced to withdraw, the office and charge room were wrecked, the telephone line and the instrument destroyed, and the Superintendent's house next door ransacked before reinforcements from West Bromwich, Wednesbury and surrounding districts were brought in to disperse the crowd. It was 2 a.m. before they eventually left.
The Police Station after the riot
Three people were arrested as a result of the attack: two men and one woman, who appeared before the magistrates charged with "tumultuous rioting" and "causing malicious damage to the police station." The two male defendants were also charged with assault on the police. While the court was being held a large crowd surrounded the court house behind the police station.
The presiding magistrate found all three defendants guilty and penalties of 40s. and costs, with the alternative of 30 days' imprisonment, were imposed upon all three defendants, who were bound over to keep the peace. After the proceedings, the large crowd around the Police station was dispersed by the Police.
Next day a large crowd gathered in the town centre and by 11 p.m. some 3,000 people surrounded the town hall. The leaders were proposing to storm the police station when a discharged soldier named Wainwright addressed the crowd and appealed to them to go home.
He told the crowd that the police superintendent who had been injured had lost his only son in the war. Within minutes the crowd had dispersed and by midnight the first and only serious riot to take place in Bilston was over.
John P Mellor
Two unfortunate decisions.
The local authority in Wolverhampton, has difficulties. It was left a poisoned chalice, by the former Labour controlled council. I have great sympathy for he horrible mess that they have to extract themselves from .
However, why close the Residential home at Underhill, why close the Information Centre in Queen Square. Surely you could cut out the fat, from the myriad organisations, in Wolverhampton, that serve no purpose, but act as a sounding board for your political opposition
However, why close the Residential home at Underhill, why close the Information Centre in Queen Square. Surely you could cut out the fat, from the myriad organisations, in Wolverhampton, that serve no purpose, but act as a sounding board for your political opposition
Wednesday, 13 January 2010
Clever Thieves.
Clever thieves« Thread Started on Aug 24, 2009, 1:54pm »
Dear AllI have been passed this story today. A woman visited the toilet in John Lewis at Blue water and hung her handbag on the back of the toilet door. As she carried on about her business, a hand suddenly appeared over the top of the stall and grabbed her bag clean off the hook!!!She immediately reported the incident to the head of security, who in turn informed the manager of the store. A couple of days later she had a call from the head of security to say her bag had been found without her purse. So she arranged a convenient time to go and meet the manager to collect her things.On arriving at the John Lewis store at the agreed time, the manager was not expecting her & neither was the head of security. No one from the store had actually called her as the bag had still not been found.When the lady got home, her house had been burgled with no sign of forced entry. The Police believe the robbers had used her Driving License for the address and her keys to let themselves in!This is real - it isn't just a scaremongering story. Many will be so shocked at how complex bag snatching crime has become.Please be extra vigilant ladies AND gents (with your man bags) there are a lot of desperate criminals out there!Violent and Organized Crime UnitPlumstead Police Station200 Plumstead High StreetSE18 1JYTelephone: 020 7161 8746 (Internal 788746)E-mail: Nicholas.Gilbey@met.pnnpolice.uk Message entered b John PMellor.OBE., QSM.,Ridder van den orde orange nassau
Dear AllI have been passed this story today. A woman visited the toilet in John Lewis at Blue water and hung her handbag on the back of the toilet door. As she carried on about her business, a hand suddenly appeared over the top of the stall and grabbed her bag clean off the hook!!!She immediately reported the incident to the head of security, who in turn informed the manager of the store. A couple of days later she had a call from the head of security to say her bag had been found without her purse. So she arranged a convenient time to go and meet the manager to collect her things.On arriving at the John Lewis store at the agreed time, the manager was not expecting her & neither was the head of security. No one from the store had actually called her as the bag had still not been found.When the lady got home, her house had been burgled with no sign of forced entry. The Police believe the robbers had used her Driving License for the address and her keys to let themselves in!This is real - it isn't just a scaremongering story. Many will be so shocked at how complex bag snatching crime has become.Please be extra vigilant ladies AND gents (with your man bags) there are a lot of desperate criminals out there!Violent and Organized Crime UnitPlumstead Police Station200 Plumstead High StreetSE18 1JYTelephone: 020 7161 8746 (Internal 788746)E-mail: Nicholas.Gilbey@met.pnnpolice.uk Message entered b John PMellor.OBE., QSM.,Ridder van den orde orange nassau
Letter to Editor of Express and Star« Thread Started on Sept 24, 2009, 3:46pm »
I read with interest the letter of John Higgins, about the new report of the British Heart Foundation. Firstly, the figure should be 38% not 34% not having cardiac rehabilitation. It is important that this was a national figure, not mentioning any specific area. Here in the area served by New Cross Heart and Lung Unit,, I have no knowledge that cardiac rehabilitation has been refused to anyone. Secondly, the rehabilitation has to be recommended by the specialist and accepted by the patient. It is not obligatory. The number of persons refusing the treatment is considerable.During the four years I was Chairman of the now defunct Patients Forum, no complaints over this issue were ever received The newly formed LINK organisation has received no complaints either.I defend no organisation or person, but as a individual, who has had three heart attacks, and two courses of cardiac rehabilitation, I wish to make it clear that our local Wolverhampton Hospital has refused no one cardiac rehabilitation, if it is recommended and accepted John Mellor. WV37BG 01290338904In the express and star on Wednesday 23rd Sept/2009, Mr John Higgins of Willenhall referred to a recent report of the British Heart Foundation, in which he stated that 34% of heart patients do not get cardiac rehabilitation. The figure quoted was s38%. No area specified. Wolverhampton for once was not guilty. I felt my letter was appropriate. John P Mellor., OBE., QSM.,President NPC Wolverhampton
I read with interest the letter of John Higgins, about the new report of the British Heart Foundation. Firstly, the figure should be 38% not 34% not having cardiac rehabilitation. It is important that this was a national figure, not mentioning any specific area. Here in the area served by New Cross Heart and Lung Unit,, I have no knowledge that cardiac rehabilitation has been refused to anyone. Secondly, the rehabilitation has to be recommended by the specialist and accepted by the patient. It is not obligatory. The number of persons refusing the treatment is considerable.During the four years I was Chairman of the now defunct Patients Forum, no complaints over this issue were ever received The newly formed LINK organisation has received no complaints either.I defend no organisation or person, but as a individual, who has had three heart attacks, and two courses of cardiac rehabilitation, I wish to make it clear that our local Wolverhampton Hospital has refused no one cardiac rehabilitation, if it is recommended and accepted John Mellor. WV37BG 01290338904In the express and star on Wednesday 23rd Sept/2009, Mr John Higgins of Willenhall referred to a recent report of the British Heart Foundation, in which he stated that 34% of heart patients do not get cardiac rehabilitation. The figure quoted was s38%. No area specified. Wolverhampton for once was not guilty. I felt my letter was appropriate. John P Mellor., OBE., QSM.,President NPC Wolverhampton
The BRITISH SOLDIER« Thread Started on Nov 2, 2009, 5:28pm »
They are doing their bit.....please do yours by reading this and forwarding it to someone else: The average British soldier is 19 years old.....he is a short haired, well built lad who, under normal circumstances is considered by society as half man, half boy. Not yet dry behind the ears and just old enough to buy a round of drinks but old enough to die for his country - and for you. He's not particularly keen on hard work but he'd rather be grafting in Afghanistan than unemployed in the UK . He recently left comprehensive school where he was probably an average student, played some form of sport, drove a ten year old rust bucket, and knew a girl that either broke up with him when he left, or swore to be waiting when he returns home. He moves easily to rock and roll or hip-hop or to the rattle of a 7.62mm machine gun. He is about a stone lighter than when he left home because he is working or fighting from dawn to dusk and well beyond. He has trouble spelling, so letter writing is a pain for him, but he can strip a rifle in 25 seconds and reassemble it in the dark. He can recite every detail of a machine gun or grenade launcher and use either effectively if he has to. He digs trenches and latrines without the aid of machines and can apply first aid like a professional paramedic. He can march until he is told to stop, or stay dead still until he is told to move. He obeys orders instantly and without hesitation but he is not without a rebellious spirit or a sense of personal dignity. He is confidently self-sufficient. He has two sets of uniform with him: he washes one and wears the other. He keeps his water bottle full and his feet dry. He sometimes forgets to brush his teeth, but never forgets to clean his rifle. He can cook his own meals, mend his own clothes and fix his own hurts. If you are thirsty, he'll share his water with you; if you are hungry, his food is your food. He'll even share his life-saving ammunition with you in the heat of a firefight if you run low. He has learned to use his hands like weapons and regards his weapon as an extension of his own hands. He can save your life or he can take it, because that is his job - it's what a soldier does. He often works twice as long and hard as a civilian, draw half the pay and have nowhere to spend it, and can still find black ironic humour in it all. There's an old saying in the British Army: 'If you can't take a joke, you shouldn't have joined!' He has seen more suffering and death than he should have in his short lifetime. He has wept in public and in private, for friends who have fallen in combat and he is unashamed to show it or admit it. He feels every bugle note of the 'Last Post' or 'Sunset' vibrate through his body while standing rigidly to attention. He's not afraid to 'Bollock' anyone who shows disrespect when the Regimental Colours are on display or the National Anthem is played; yet in an odd twist, he would defend anyone's right to be an individual. Just as with generations of young people before him, he is paying the price for our freedom. Clean shaven and baby faced he may be, but be prepared to defend yourself if you treat him like a kid. He is the latest in a long thin line of British Fighting Men that have kept this country free for hundreds of years. He asks for nothing from us except our respect, friendship and understanding. We may not like what he does, but sometimes he doesn't like it either - he just has it to do.. Remember him always, for he has earned our respect and admiration with his blood. And now we even have brave young women putting themselves in harm's way, doing their part in this tradition of going to war when our nation's politicians call on us to do so. When you receive this, please stop for a moment and if you are so inclined, feel free to say a prayer for our troops in the trouble spots of the world. John P Mellor OBE., QSM.,
They are doing their bit.....please do yours by reading this and forwarding it to someone else: The average British soldier is 19 years old.....he is a short haired, well built lad who, under normal circumstances is considered by society as half man, half boy. Not yet dry behind the ears and just old enough to buy a round of drinks but old enough to die for his country - and for you. He's not particularly keen on hard work but he'd rather be grafting in Afghanistan than unemployed in the UK . He recently left comprehensive school where he was probably an average student, played some form of sport, drove a ten year old rust bucket, and knew a girl that either broke up with him when he left, or swore to be waiting when he returns home. He moves easily to rock and roll or hip-hop or to the rattle of a 7.62mm machine gun. He is about a stone lighter than when he left home because he is working or fighting from dawn to dusk and well beyond. He has trouble spelling, so letter writing is a pain for him, but he can strip a rifle in 25 seconds and reassemble it in the dark. He can recite every detail of a machine gun or grenade launcher and use either effectively if he has to. He digs trenches and latrines without the aid of machines and can apply first aid like a professional paramedic. He can march until he is told to stop, or stay dead still until he is told to move. He obeys orders instantly and without hesitation but he is not without a rebellious spirit or a sense of personal dignity. He is confidently self-sufficient. He has two sets of uniform with him: he washes one and wears the other. He keeps his water bottle full and his feet dry. He sometimes forgets to brush his teeth, but never forgets to clean his rifle. He can cook his own meals, mend his own clothes and fix his own hurts. If you are thirsty, he'll share his water with you; if you are hungry, his food is your food. He'll even share his life-saving ammunition with you in the heat of a firefight if you run low. He has learned to use his hands like weapons and regards his weapon as an extension of his own hands. He can save your life or he can take it, because that is his job - it's what a soldier does. He often works twice as long and hard as a civilian, draw half the pay and have nowhere to spend it, and can still find black ironic humour in it all. There's an old saying in the British Army: 'If you can't take a joke, you shouldn't have joined!' He has seen more suffering and death than he should have in his short lifetime. He has wept in public and in private, for friends who have fallen in combat and he is unashamed to show it or admit it. He feels every bugle note of the 'Last Post' or 'Sunset' vibrate through his body while standing rigidly to attention. He's not afraid to 'Bollock' anyone who shows disrespect when the Regimental Colours are on display or the National Anthem is played; yet in an odd twist, he would defend anyone's right to be an individual. Just as with generations of young people before him, he is paying the price for our freedom. Clean shaven and baby faced he may be, but be prepared to defend yourself if you treat him like a kid. He is the latest in a long thin line of British Fighting Men that have kept this country free for hundreds of years. He asks for nothing from us except our respect, friendship and understanding. We may not like what he does, but sometimes he doesn't like it either - he just has it to do.. Remember him always, for he has earned our respect and admiration with his blood. And now we even have brave young women putting themselves in harm's way, doing their part in this tradition of going to war when our nation's politicians call on us to do so. When you receive this, please stop for a moment and if you are so inclined, feel free to say a prayer for our troops in the trouble spots of the world. John P Mellor OBE., QSM.,
Severn Trent Trust Help for persons in their area« Thread Started on Jun 26, 2009, 10:29am »
The Severn Trent Trust was set up in 1997 and since then has made grants of £27 millions to over 55000 households. People who are unable to meet the cost of their water charges and who live in the Severn Trent area can apply for helpThe trust is keen to find more beneficiaries. For further information or to make an application please contact the Trust DIRECT. Telephone 0121 3557766. email office@sttf.org.uk or www.sttf.org.uk.J Mellor. President National Pensioners Convention, City of Wolverhampton. WV37BG 01902338904
The Severn Trent Trust was set up in 1997 and since then has made grants of £27 millions to over 55000 households. People who are unable to meet the cost of their water charges and who live in the Severn Trent area can apply for helpThe trust is keen to find more beneficiaries. For further information or to make an application please contact the Trust DIRECT. Telephone 0121 3557766. email office@sttf.org.uk or www.sttf.org.uk.J Mellor. President National Pensioners Convention, City of Wolverhampton. WV37BG 01902338904
The Lion Man of Cradley Heath
The Lion man From Cradley Heath
The Lion man of Cradley Heath. Much has been written about Lewis Frank Foley, general known as Lew. A man of great physical strength, but with a massive work capacity, he was s successful business man, with a penchant for publicity. He was a likeable rogue. He would never ever use his great strength to hurt anyone, and his generosity was well known. Like most men of his type he has a few conviction, but never for violence.He lived at Fairview, Corn greaves road, Cradley Heath. With his family. In about July of 1975, I saw him in his vehicle, in High Street, outside the MEB. I passed his vehicle, and saw a young lion sitting on the back seat. There were no rule about Dangerous Animals then. Foley was the prime target of the legislation which followed.. I pointed out to Foley that the lion would grow, and he would have to cage it. He said, I am already erecting a cage for this one, and some others.” I also pointed out to him the dangers a lion could cause in a car. He promised to take the lion home. He did. I arranged a watching brief on the lion, which had now got a mate. Foley a construction engineer, has built massive cages at the rear of his home, and now employed a lion tamer, Leslie William Maiden. He did not have a clue about wild animals. Foley continued to show the animals, but we had no complaints. At 12.50pm Tuesday November 1975, it was reported that Foley had the lion in his vehicle, in Corn greaves Road.. Together with others I saw the lion. It was attached to the towing bar, by a steel hawser, and an a chain around its neck. One of the side windows was slightly open, and the lion put its paw outside and was affected by the passing traffic. The lion would be able to touch any person passing. Foley came to the vehicle and tried to start it. It would not start. I suggested he put the lion back into its cage. This was done. Foley indicated that he was going to take the lion to Birmingham to see the sights. I was aware he had alerted the press.At 2/40pm the same day, I returned to Corn greaves Road, and followed Foley and his lion trainer, through to Upper High Street. Where I stopped him. The lion was in the back seat. I asked him where he was going, he replied, “To Birmingham to see the sights”. I told Foley he was under arrest, so was the trainer .” I asked a police officer, who accompanied me, to return the vehicle, to the home of Foley. The lion was placed back in its cage. Foley and his trainer, were taken to Old Hill Police Station, where they were charged, with breach of the peace at Common Law. His trainer Maiden was jointly charged.. Foley and Maiden were bailed. They appeared before Smethwick Magistrates on 2nd December. 1975. They pleaded “Not Guilty”. They were found guilty, and bound over toe keep the peace in the sum of £500. There were severe court costs.Foley never took the lion’s out again. He was content to “show” them for a few pence. He appeared on television many times. The Lion Man of Cradley Heath has passed into history. A character, for which the Black Country was once famous John Mellor
The Dangerous Wild Animals act was passed in 1976. 7 months after the conviction of Foley and his trainers. In the House of Commons, details of this case, were given as an example of animals being kept under dangerous conditions. I was warned that my presence might be required it was not.
The Lion man of Cradley Heath. Much has been written about Lewis Frank Foley, general known as Lew. A man of great physical strength, but with a massive work capacity, he was s successful business man, with a penchant for publicity. He was a likeable rogue. He would never ever use his great strength to hurt anyone, and his generosity was well known. Like most men of his type he has a few conviction, but never for violence.He lived at Fairview, Corn greaves road, Cradley Heath. With his family. In about July of 1975, I saw him in his vehicle, in High Street, outside the MEB. I passed his vehicle, and saw a young lion sitting on the back seat. There were no rule about Dangerous Animals then. Foley was the prime target of the legislation which followed.. I pointed out to Foley that the lion would grow, and he would have to cage it. He said, I am already erecting a cage for this one, and some others.” I also pointed out to him the dangers a lion could cause in a car. He promised to take the lion home. He did. I arranged a watching brief on the lion, which had now got a mate. Foley a construction engineer, has built massive cages at the rear of his home, and now employed a lion tamer, Leslie William Maiden. He did not have a clue about wild animals. Foley continued to show the animals, but we had no complaints. At 12.50pm Tuesday November 1975, it was reported that Foley had the lion in his vehicle, in Corn greaves Road.. Together with others I saw the lion. It was attached to the towing bar, by a steel hawser, and an a chain around its neck. One of the side windows was slightly open, and the lion put its paw outside and was affected by the passing traffic. The lion would be able to touch any person passing. Foley came to the vehicle and tried to start it. It would not start. I suggested he put the lion back into its cage. This was done. Foley indicated that he was going to take the lion to Birmingham to see the sights. I was aware he had alerted the press.At 2/40pm the same day, I returned to Corn greaves Road, and followed Foley and his lion trainer, through to Upper High Street. Where I stopped him. The lion was in the back seat. I asked him where he was going, he replied, “To Birmingham to see the sights”. I told Foley he was under arrest, so was the trainer .” I asked a police officer, who accompanied me, to return the vehicle, to the home of Foley. The lion was placed back in its cage. Foley and his trainer, were taken to Old Hill Police Station, where they were charged, with breach of the peace at Common Law. His trainer Maiden was jointly charged.. Foley and Maiden were bailed. They appeared before Smethwick Magistrates on 2nd December. 1975. They pleaded “Not Guilty”. They were found guilty, and bound over toe keep the peace in the sum of £500. There were severe court costs.Foley never took the lion’s out again. He was content to “show” them for a few pence. He appeared on television many times. The Lion Man of Cradley Heath has passed into history. A character, for which the Black Country was once famous John Mellor
The Dangerous Wild Animals act was passed in 1976. 7 months after the conviction of Foley and his trainers. In the House of Commons, details of this case, were given as an example of animals being kept under dangerous conditions. I was warned that my presence might be required it was not.
The Tettenhal Wood Guardsman
The Tettenhall Wood Guardsman« Thread Started Yesterday at 5:46pm »
Albert, had been brought up "rough", his father, was a cruel man, his mother Gwendoline, a kind woman, had not had a good life, Albert had a sister, she had left for other areas, when I first became involved with Tettenhall Wood, as a Police officer.. Albert had spent 8 weeks in the Grenadier Guards, before being "discharged". His problem alcohol, and when not available Meths, the forerunner, of our drugs problem. Albert, had appeared before the magistrates that many times, that he and I had lost count. I go him two jobs he lost them both. With the death of his father. I thought things would improve, they did, for a short while.His mother, relieved of the drain of her husband, tried to bring Albert back. to normality It was not to be/I arrested him 7 more times, found him drunk on the Holloway at Compton, in a thunder storm. The rain, ran down the gutter, through Albert, and continued on its way. With the help of a bus conductor, and changing the route of the bus, I got Albert to Tettenhall Police Station. Then followed the usual routine, to Tettenhall Magistrates. Without prompting, Albert answered his name, stood to attention in the large ammunition boots , he always wore, and said, Guardsman Albert Edward N.... Sir. Invariably the sentence was the same. I months imprisonment. Then for 4 months, no sign of Albert at P Cottage, Mill Lane. No one had seen him, Mrs N.... was seen working and in good health. It was too good to be true. He has been in Birmingham with a friend. He returned. Three days later, I was riding my cycle in School Road, Tettenhall Wood, when I saw his opposite neighbour. "Officer, Mrs N... not seen for 2 days. No fires in he grate" I went to the Police Pillar in School Road, and reported the facts. Sergeant Wassell, said he would join me at P........ Cottage. I went there, and checked the doors, all locked, looked through the window, could see nothing. The Sergeant arrived. A decision was made to knock down the door. It proved to strong. A ladder was brought over from a neighbour. I climbed the ladder, and got into a bedroom, through the window. I went to the top of the stairs, they had no steps, they had been broken up for firewood. I lowered myself gingerly as far as I could and dropped. I could then see Mrs. N.... apparently dead on the floor, blood everywhere, and a blood stained bottle by her head. I opened the front door, and let the Sergeant in. The Sergeant, went to inform the Superintendent at Willenhall. He said, "See if you can find Alb ert." I had a good idea where he would be. In the disused huts in Dippons Lane, recently vacated. I searched them all, finding him, eating a cold bacon sandwich, with his large coat draped around him. He was 6ft 2 inches tall, and over 18 stones, a formidable adversary. I went to him and Said, "Albert Edward N.... I am arresting you for the murder of your mother, Gwendoline." I cautioned him, He said, "She was nagging me, so I hit her". I asked him to put out his hands. He did. I handcuffed him. I walked him back to the junction of Longlake Avenue and Dippons Lane. At that moment. I saw a large car, a Rolls Bentley approach. I knew it was the property of Miss, Daisy St Clair Mander, J. P., The Mount. I stopped the vehicle, and asked Miss. Mander if she would assist me to remove Neale. She immediately AGREED. She took me straight to Tettenhall Police Station. Only PC Keating was on durty. The Sergeant had returned to the scene, with the pathologist. I got Pc Keating to enter Albert in the Charge Book, charged him with wilful murder of his mother. Cautioned him Placed him in the cells.The Superintendent then arrived. Tore a strip off me, for charging Albert. It was the Superintendents job. He did not alter the entry however. Post Mortems witnessed. Initial court appearances, and commital to the Assize at Stafford. Then misfortune or otherwise. Professor Webster, Home Office Pathologist, stated that Mrs. N... had died of a heart attack, seconds before the blow to the head. Albert then pleaded guilty to unlawful wounding. Got 12 months imprisonment, later certified under the Mental Heal thAct.. I only saw Albert once more. Several years later, I was travelling through Stafford with my wife and child, walking from the Midland Red Depot, to Pitcher Bank, when I saw Albert complete with yellow trustee band, and 8 other men. I stopped, Albert was apparently pleased to see me. He said, "I am in charge of these loonies(his words)and I take them to the pub around the corner. They clean up the yard, while I have a drink.I feel Albert had found his niche in life. Strangeley the cottage was demolished several months later.The site is still there. Unused. I often wondered, how the property had been dealt with in that fashion
Albert, had been brought up "rough", his father, was a cruel man, his mother Gwendoline, a kind woman, had not had a good life, Albert had a sister, she had left for other areas, when I first became involved with Tettenhall Wood, as a Police officer.. Albert had spent 8 weeks in the Grenadier Guards, before being "discharged". His problem alcohol, and when not available Meths, the forerunner, of our drugs problem. Albert, had appeared before the magistrates that many times, that he and I had lost count. I go him two jobs he lost them both. With the death of his father. I thought things would improve, they did, for a short while.His mother, relieved of the drain of her husband, tried to bring Albert back. to normality It was not to be/I arrested him 7 more times, found him drunk on the Holloway at Compton, in a thunder storm. The rain, ran down the gutter, through Albert, and continued on its way. With the help of a bus conductor, and changing the route of the bus, I got Albert to Tettenhall Police Station. Then followed the usual routine, to Tettenhall Magistrates. Without prompting, Albert answered his name, stood to attention in the large ammunition boots , he always wore, and said, Guardsman Albert Edward N.... Sir. Invariably the sentence was the same. I months imprisonment. Then for 4 months, no sign of Albert at P Cottage, Mill Lane. No one had seen him, Mrs N.... was seen working and in good health. It was too good to be true. He has been in Birmingham with a friend. He returned. Three days later, I was riding my cycle in School Road, Tettenhall Wood, when I saw his opposite neighbour. "Officer, Mrs N... not seen for 2 days. No fires in he grate" I went to the Police Pillar in School Road, and reported the facts. Sergeant Wassell, said he would join me at P........ Cottage. I went there, and checked the doors, all locked, looked through the window, could see nothing. The Sergeant arrived. A decision was made to knock down the door. It proved to strong. A ladder was brought over from a neighbour. I climbed the ladder, and got into a bedroom, through the window. I went to the top of the stairs, they had no steps, they had been broken up for firewood. I lowered myself gingerly as far as I could and dropped. I could then see Mrs. N.... apparently dead on the floor, blood everywhere, and a blood stained bottle by her head. I opened the front door, and let the Sergeant in. The Sergeant, went to inform the Superintendent at Willenhall. He said, "See if you can find Alb ert." I had a good idea where he would be. In the disused huts in Dippons Lane, recently vacated. I searched them all, finding him, eating a cold bacon sandwich, with his large coat draped around him. He was 6ft 2 inches tall, and over 18 stones, a formidable adversary. I went to him and Said, "Albert Edward N.... I am arresting you for the murder of your mother, Gwendoline." I cautioned him, He said, "She was nagging me, so I hit her". I asked him to put out his hands. He did. I handcuffed him. I walked him back to the junction of Longlake Avenue and Dippons Lane. At that moment. I saw a large car, a Rolls Bentley approach. I knew it was the property of Miss, Daisy St Clair Mander, J. P., The Mount. I stopped the vehicle, and asked Miss. Mander if she would assist me to remove Neale. She immediately AGREED. She took me straight to Tettenhall Police Station. Only PC Keating was on durty. The Sergeant had returned to the scene, with the pathologist. I got Pc Keating to enter Albert in the Charge Book, charged him with wilful murder of his mother. Cautioned him Placed him in the cells.The Superintendent then arrived. Tore a strip off me, for charging Albert. It was the Superintendents job. He did not alter the entry however. Post Mortems witnessed. Initial court appearances, and commital to the Assize at Stafford. Then misfortune or otherwise. Professor Webster, Home Office Pathologist, stated that Mrs. N... had died of a heart attack, seconds before the blow to the head. Albert then pleaded guilty to unlawful wounding. Got 12 months imprisonment, later certified under the Mental Heal thAct.. I only saw Albert once more. Several years later, I was travelling through Stafford with my wife and child, walking from the Midland Red Depot, to Pitcher Bank, when I saw Albert complete with yellow trustee band, and 8 other men. I stopped, Albert was apparently pleased to see me. He said, "I am in charge of these loonies(his words)and I take them to the pub around the corner. They clean up the yard, while I have a drink.I feel Albert had found his niche in life. Strangeley the cottage was demolished several months later.The site is still there. Unused. I often wondered, how the property had been dealt with in that fashion
An Inspector at Bilston
An Inspector at Bilston« Thread Started on Aug 30, 2009, 11:03am »
Bilston in 1965, was a borough, with a proud history and an individual outlook, soon to be merged with BIG Brother Wolverhampton, in 1966. Full of characters. of all sorts, but distinctly different from other places. Memories, "Cissie" the flower seller, corner of High Street, and market entrance. She knew everyone and everything, without her a policeman would be severely handicapped/ One of my predecessors had. moved her on.Not realising that she was maintaining aged relatives and he own family. When she saw me, she said"Yo are the man with the stick(I always carried a cane)are ya going to move me" I replied, diplomatically "Not till I get a complaint". She then said, "where yo at Lower Penn a few years ago, I was astounded. "Yes . I replied. Cissie said "your missus always gave me, milk for the babby and water for my horse. I then realised she used to hawk. the Penn area of wolverhampton., with a horse and cart. Thus started a happy three years mutual confidence. Cissie only told you about acts of violence. Other crimes did not count. Stealing was a way of life. She was very helpful to me personally............................................................... The Market Tavern, opposite her pitch and where her husband had a drink was notorious for fist fights(bottles forbidden) I went in on Saturday afternoon, rather foolishly. alone, the fighting was nasty 20 or more, the first blow from a notorious villain, knocked me on the floor, I could see I would be seriously injured. The noise suddenly subsided, a loud voice, said, "leave him alone, he has helped us, there are 8 of us we will brain anybody who touches him" Cissie at majestic height, she was nearly 6ft. on a table, with a stool in her hand. The fighting stopped. Cissie said, You will have no trouble here, whilst you are in Bilston. I did not. She did my street credibility the world of good John P Mellor OBE., QSM.,
Bilston in 1965, was a borough, with a proud history and an individual outlook, soon to be merged with BIG Brother Wolverhampton, in 1966. Full of characters. of all sorts, but distinctly different from other places. Memories, "Cissie" the flower seller, corner of High Street, and market entrance. She knew everyone and everything, without her a policeman would be severely handicapped/ One of my predecessors had. moved her on.Not realising that she was maintaining aged relatives and he own family. When she saw me, she said"Yo are the man with the stick(I always carried a cane)are ya going to move me" I replied, diplomatically "Not till I get a complaint". She then said, "where yo at Lower Penn a few years ago, I was astounded. "Yes . I replied. Cissie said "your missus always gave me, milk for the babby and water for my horse. I then realised she used to hawk. the Penn area of wolverhampton., with a horse and cart. Thus started a happy three years mutual confidence. Cissie only told you about acts of violence. Other crimes did not count. Stealing was a way of life. She was very helpful to me personally............................................................... The Market Tavern, opposite her pitch and where her husband had a drink was notorious for fist fights(bottles forbidden) I went in on Saturday afternoon, rather foolishly. alone, the fighting was nasty 20 or more, the first blow from a notorious villain, knocked me on the floor, I could see I would be seriously injured. The noise suddenly subsided, a loud voice, said, "leave him alone, he has helped us, there are 8 of us we will brain anybody who touches him" Cissie at majestic height, she was nearly 6ft. on a table, with a stool in her hand. The fighting stopped. Cissie said, You will have no trouble here, whilst you are in Bilston. I did not. She did my street credibility the world of good John P Mellor OBE., QSM.,
PC 290 Staffordshire County PoliceTettenhall Sectional Station, 1950-1955The RAF Perton had a short active life then became, with Wrottesley, the headquarters of the Princes Irene Brigade, a crack Netherlands army unit. The brigade left in May 1947 and was followed at Perton by the Polish Resettlement Corps and European displaced persons. The runways were still in use and many people from Wolverhampton learnt to drive there.The cold war was at its height and the fears of the many nationalities living on or near Perton were of the Russians. They felt they had suffered enough under the Nazi yoke. Scares were frequent and, in 1951, the government ordered all eastern European aliens on the register - no missing asylum seekers in those days - to report at the nearest police station which, in the case of Perton, was Tettenhall. Anyone with poor documentation was referred to Willenhall Police Station for expert interrogation.During this time, two White Russian aliens reported that a twin engined plane had landed at Perton. No one believed the story; it was considered far fetched. The story was widely circulated amongst the eastern European community here. During September 1951 I was on duty, on cycle patrol, along Perton Lane, and entered the main entrance by the Stone Cottages. It was about 11.30 p.m. a clear night. To my utter amazement I saw a twin engined plane come from the direction of Compton and land. I clearly saw a man with a suitcase get into the plane, which was taxing slowly. I rode towards the plane and made a note of the number. The plane took off.I went to the police pillar in Wergs Road, at the junction with Keepers Lane, and reported what I had seen. On my arrival at Tettenhall Station at 1.45 a.m. to complete duty (6 p.m. – 2 a.m.) I was required by the Sergeant, who had been awakened by the Divisional Superintendent, to enter full details in the Occurrence Book. This I did and went home to Tettenhall Wood.At 9 a.m. I was asleep when my wife awakened me and told me I was to report to Tettenhall Police Station immediately. I did so. I was interviewed by the Detective Chief Superintendent CID and Special Branch officers. The registration number I had taken was a Russian civilian marking and, of course, confirmed the original reports by the White Russians.The sequel? There wasn't one. No press release was authorised and dire warnings were given to all Tettenhall Police Station staff about the provisions of the Official Secrets Act. Despite weary months of observations nothing further was seen. The matter was placed in the hands of the Special Branch in London. An interesting slice of a Dixon of Dock Green type police constable in the 1950"s. John P Mellor
The Log Gang, Uttoxeter
The Log Gang
Children love “gangs”, in modern times, they are sometimes a menace.
In the early war years, the boys at the top end of Park Avenue,Uttoxeter, were very much a close knit group. We all swam in the River Tean, March till October. We never got pneumonia. Our spots, were “The Basin” in a field, owned by my family. The Pipe, the last place, owned by my grandfather. The next place was “The Log”, owned by Amos Campbell. All the owners knew we were there.
We had strict rules, no litter, no fires, no bottles, and we cleaned up after each visit. We had decided to call ourselves the Log gang. Rules, simple, obey the farmers unwritten rules, never disturb animals, and sometimes have a crafty smoke, “Dart” cigarettes, 2pence a packet.
Our leader, Was Percy Archer, “Yapsi”a giant, his deputy was Sidney Williams, “Bache”, Percy(Guards) and Sid(Scottish Infantry), fought in the Second World War, Sid went onto Korea, and the battle of the River Imjen
We had Cyril Williams and Geogie(cudgel), with me, John Foster and Victor Statham (60 years in USA )as foot soldiers.
We called ourselves The Log Gang, because, it was a favourite swimming place.
We imagined, we were feared and dreaded, I don’t think anyone knew we existed.
Our most interesting time, was when Todd Williams, 15 years old, joined us, he worked, and I think tolerated us. He was giant in size, and in mind, a natural philosopher. I never met anyone, who knew him to be critical of him.
John Mellor. Now living in Wolverhampton
Children love “gangs”, in modern times, they are sometimes a menace.
In the early war years, the boys at the top end of Park Avenue,Uttoxeter, were very much a close knit group. We all swam in the River Tean, March till October. We never got pneumonia. Our spots, were “The Basin” in a field, owned by my family. The Pipe, the last place, owned by my grandfather. The next place was “The Log”, owned by Amos Campbell. All the owners knew we were there.
We had strict rules, no litter, no fires, no bottles, and we cleaned up after each visit. We had decided to call ourselves the Log gang. Rules, simple, obey the farmers unwritten rules, never disturb animals, and sometimes have a crafty smoke, “Dart” cigarettes, 2pence a packet.
Our leader, Was Percy Archer, “Yapsi”a giant, his deputy was Sidney Williams, “Bache”, Percy(Guards) and Sid(Scottish Infantry), fought in the Second World War, Sid went onto Korea, and the battle of the River Imjen
We had Cyril Williams and Geogie(cudgel), with me, John Foster and Victor Statham (60 years in USA )as foot soldiers.
We called ourselves The Log Gang, because, it was a favourite swimming place.
We imagined, we were feared and dreaded, I don’t think anyone knew we existed.
Our most interesting time, was when Todd Williams, 15 years old, joined us, he worked, and I think tolerated us. He was giant in size, and in mind, a natural philosopher. I never met anyone, who knew him to be critical of him.
John Mellor. Now living in Wolverhampton
Unsolved Wartime Murder.
Unsolved wartime murder
Ruth Schemler, an Austrian Jewish refugee, fleeing NAZI persecution, was found raped and murdered in a disused quarry at Counslow Pot, Freehay, Cheadle, Staffordshire in 1943
Wartime investigation was sparse. Lorry tracks in quarry showed that a WD Bedford lorry had been near to the body. This would seem to indicate service personnel. The whole investigation closed down in a few weeks. There are no records at Stafford Police HQ. A promise to contact central records in London not kept.
Despite the time element. someone knows something ... Where are you ?
A local connection, my late mother, Olive Ann Mellor, late of 57 Park Avenue, Uttoxeter, had five sisters. The eldest Ivy, married William Brandrick of Beamhurst, first living at Old Wood Farm, Hollington Lane, Stramshall, before moving to Broom Farm, Freehay. My mother, was close to her sister, and visited her regularly, she travelled to Counslow Pot, by bus via, Rocester, Alton, where she walked through the quarry, climbing a hill, to arrive by the front gate of her sisters field.
On this particular day, she entered the quarry, to find police officers all over the place. She was questioned as to where she was going, and permitted to carry on, these officers, were investigating this unsolved mystery.
My mother, until death, wondered why the murderer was never caught. A victim of the war in more ways than one.
John Mellor
Ruth Schemler, an Austrian Jewish refugee, fleeing NAZI persecution, was found raped and murdered in a disused quarry at Counslow Pot, Freehay, Cheadle, Staffordshire in 1943
Wartime investigation was sparse. Lorry tracks in quarry showed that a WD Bedford lorry had been near to the body. This would seem to indicate service personnel. The whole investigation closed down in a few weeks. There are no records at Stafford Police HQ. A promise to contact central records in London not kept.
Despite the time element. someone knows something ... Where are you ?
A local connection, my late mother, Olive Ann Mellor, late of 57 Park Avenue, Uttoxeter, had five sisters. The eldest Ivy, married William Brandrick of Beamhurst, first living at Old Wood Farm, Hollington Lane, Stramshall, before moving to Broom Farm, Freehay. My mother, was close to her sister, and visited her regularly, she travelled to Counslow Pot, by bus via, Rocester, Alton, where she walked through the quarry, climbing a hill, to arrive by the front gate of her sisters field.
On this particular day, she entered the quarry, to find police officers all over the place. She was questioned as to where she was going, and permitted to carry on, these officers, were investigating this unsolved mystery.
My mother, until death, wondered why the murderer was never caught. A victim of the war in more ways than one.
John Mellor
The Bull Ring, Park Avenue, Uttoxeter
The Bull Ring
Off Park Avenue, in Uttoxeter is a small cul de sac, which rejoices in the name of the BULL RING.
Long favoured years ago, by local children to play in. Helped in 1939 by the erection of a brick built air raid shelter. A playground, and a nuisance I am sure to elderly residents. It remained for ten years, before finally biting the dust.
I mention it, because in a book I have recently read, this is described as the old dockyard, of the Uttoxeter Canal. Not so, the dockyard in the early thirties was clearly visible between the homes of the Tansley and Lavin families, access by a lane, and two cottages, were I am sure, the Swinson family ( the only two I remember older than me, were Rita and Kitchener (Kitch) lived before moving into new properties. They were known as the Dockyard Cottages.
There was clear indication of two large bays, capable of taking barges. These were partially filled in with waste material. A piece of history which had survived then for over a hundred years, and destroyed in the name of progress .
I have not looked down that lane for over fifty years. I have no idea what developments if any, have taken place.
John Mellor
Off Park Avenue, in Uttoxeter is a small cul de sac, which rejoices in the name of the BULL RING.
Long favoured years ago, by local children to play in. Helped in 1939 by the erection of a brick built air raid shelter. A playground, and a nuisance I am sure to elderly residents. It remained for ten years, before finally biting the dust.
I mention it, because in a book I have recently read, this is described as the old dockyard, of the Uttoxeter Canal. Not so, the dockyard in the early thirties was clearly visible between the homes of the Tansley and Lavin families, access by a lane, and two cottages, were I am sure, the Swinson family ( the only two I remember older than me, were Rita and Kitchener (Kitch) lived before moving into new properties. They were known as the Dockyard Cottages.
There was clear indication of two large bays, capable of taking barges. These were partially filled in with waste material. A piece of history which had survived then for over a hundred years, and destroyed in the name of progress .
I have not looked down that lane for over fifty years. I have no idea what developments if any, have taken place.
John Mellor
Three relatives as publicans in the 1930"s
Three relations keeping Public Houses
In the mid-thirties, our family consisted of my father, John, my mother Olive, - times were tough.
No money for wasteful activities. We had one advantage, my fathers, eldest sister, Mary, had married, James Worth, a large arable farmer, in Cheshire. Uncle Jim had always wanted to be a publican, although he did not drink. He bought the Red Cow at Willslock, Nr Kingstone, and soon had a thriving business.
My father visited his sister, every Sunday night, usually with his brother Harry, always called “Dan”. Both my father and uncle, had farming experience and helped Uncle Jim with his small holding attached to the pub. We had a large tea, the men had 2 pints of beer each. Thus was a routine until 1938, when my Uncle and Aunt, sold the public house to the brewery.
With the arrival of war, and troops, including many Americans, the successive publicans made a fortune. Aunty Mary expressed her regret until she died.
I enjoyed going there on a Sunday, as my school friend Barbara Rowe, from Westland’s Road, attended with her parents, and we all walked back together, we children on our adults, backs. My Uncle and Aunt, lived at The Firs, New Road, Uttoxeter until death.
My mother, was a Redfern, originally from Cubley. Her father, John lived at Woodruffe Cottage, Marching ton Woodlands. She has two uncles, residing in Uttoxeter. Uncle Wilfred, he was the licensee of the Plough Inn, we usually visited there on Saturdays, once a month. Uncle Wilfred had large family, so we had many get-togethers.
My mother, had a Uncle Edmund, he lived at The Cock Inn, Beamhirst. His wife Aunty Florrie was a wonderful relation. Kind, but strict. She permitted no one under 18 in any room, except the sitting room. I first visited to play with her children, and her Manchester domiciled relations. Uncle Edmund had old tram at the back of his premises, it was there for 30 years. A child's delight. I played in there until I could “drive” no more.
My father, spent a lot of time at his family home Park Hill Farm, and in two instances when my mother was ill, we stayed there for several weeks. In the winter, the weather curtailed visits to the Red Cow or The Plough. It was then to the Cock, that we went.
When I was about 17 years, we were all around the piano, listening to Aunty Elsie and Aunty Mary playing, when the men, at 8pm prompt, put on their coats. I knew were they were going. My father indicated that I should put my coat on. I had arrived, I was a man. I was permitted to have two mild shandies. I felt 7foot tall. I still had to sit in the sitting room, till I was 18. How quaint !
John Mellor
_______________________________________________
In the mid-thirties, our family consisted of my father, John, my mother Olive, - times were tough.
No money for wasteful activities. We had one advantage, my fathers, eldest sister, Mary, had married, James Worth, a large arable farmer, in Cheshire. Uncle Jim had always wanted to be a publican, although he did not drink. He bought the Red Cow at Willslock, Nr Kingstone, and soon had a thriving business.
My father visited his sister, every Sunday night, usually with his brother Harry, always called “Dan”. Both my father and uncle, had farming experience and helped Uncle Jim with his small holding attached to the pub. We had a large tea, the men had 2 pints of beer each. Thus was a routine until 1938, when my Uncle and Aunt, sold the public house to the brewery.
With the arrival of war, and troops, including many Americans, the successive publicans made a fortune. Aunty Mary expressed her regret until she died.
I enjoyed going there on a Sunday, as my school friend Barbara Rowe, from Westland’s Road, attended with her parents, and we all walked back together, we children on our adults, backs. My Uncle and Aunt, lived at The Firs, New Road, Uttoxeter until death.
My mother, was a Redfern, originally from Cubley. Her father, John lived at Woodruffe Cottage, Marching ton Woodlands. She has two uncles, residing in Uttoxeter. Uncle Wilfred, he was the licensee of the Plough Inn, we usually visited there on Saturdays, once a month. Uncle Wilfred had large family, so we had many get-togethers.
My mother, had a Uncle Edmund, he lived at The Cock Inn, Beamhirst. His wife Aunty Florrie was a wonderful relation. Kind, but strict. She permitted no one under 18 in any room, except the sitting room. I first visited to play with her children, and her Manchester domiciled relations. Uncle Edmund had old tram at the back of his premises, it was there for 30 years. A child's delight. I played in there until I could “drive” no more.
My father, spent a lot of time at his family home Park Hill Farm, and in two instances when my mother was ill, we stayed there for several weeks. In the winter, the weather curtailed visits to the Red Cow or The Plough. It was then to the Cock, that we went.
When I was about 17 years, we were all around the piano, listening to Aunty Elsie and Aunty Mary playing, when the men, at 8pm prompt, put on their coats. I knew were they were going. My father indicated that I should put my coat on. I had arrived, I was a man. I was permitted to have two mild shandies. I felt 7foot tall. I still had to sit in the sitting room, till I was 18. How quaint !
John Mellor
_______________________________________________
When the searchlights came.
When the searchlights came
Uttoxeter, hardly knew that the war was on, although our young men and women, kept leaving, and rationing was severe. One change to us all on the Park side of the town, was the opening of the bypass in 1939. The war stopped operations, and of the dual carriageway (a source of wonder to me) only one lane was open, the nearside side, facing Stoke, the remaining lane, remained in its raw construction state, frequently filled with water ( not completed for 2 years after the war ).
We local children noticed the arrival of large army lorries, on a field abutting the unused lane of the bypass about 1940. Nissan huts went up, concrete roads laid, and to our amazement an assault course, with death slide over the River Tean was constructed. Various rumours circulated. It was to be a anti aircraft battery, then a barrage balloon site, then a prisoner of war camp, but we finally had the answer, four massive searchlights and battery vehicles. Sentries were posted, the usual notices under the defence regulations, "That loiters will be shot, if not answering the guard"
To everyone's amazement, there were no fences erected, only the bypass railings as a defence perimeter, five barred with posts. Although an Official Secret we all knew when the lights were to be tested. Hundreds of townspeople stood by and on the the railings. We watched with awe as the lights stabbed into the sky. Some old soldiers, asked "where were the guns" No official answers, but the soldiers talked of Coven, near Wolverhampton. Even I failed to understand the value of the lights picking up a plane, with nothing to shoot at it. Greater minds then mine, had chosen the site.
The lights remained in position for about 3 years, then suddenly, all disappeared. The exact spot was on field belonging to the Povey Family. I remember, an elderly lady called May Povey. There was an old mill on the farm, which abutted the River Tean. As air raid warnings waned, we lost interest in watching the lights, and few noticed, when they left. A short period, from the Second World War, now remembered by few.
John Mellor
Uttoxeter, hardly knew that the war was on, although our young men and women, kept leaving, and rationing was severe. One change to us all on the Park side of the town, was the opening of the bypass in 1939. The war stopped operations, and of the dual carriageway (a source of wonder to me) only one lane was open, the nearside side, facing Stoke, the remaining lane, remained in its raw construction state, frequently filled with water ( not completed for 2 years after the war ).
We local children noticed the arrival of large army lorries, on a field abutting the unused lane of the bypass about 1940. Nissan huts went up, concrete roads laid, and to our amazement an assault course, with death slide over the River Tean was constructed. Various rumours circulated. It was to be a anti aircraft battery, then a barrage balloon site, then a prisoner of war camp, but we finally had the answer, four massive searchlights and battery vehicles. Sentries were posted, the usual notices under the defence regulations, "That loiters will be shot, if not answering the guard"
To everyone's amazement, there were no fences erected, only the bypass railings as a defence perimeter, five barred with posts. Although an Official Secret we all knew when the lights were to be tested. Hundreds of townspeople stood by and on the the railings. We watched with awe as the lights stabbed into the sky. Some old soldiers, asked "where were the guns" No official answers, but the soldiers talked of Coven, near Wolverhampton. Even I failed to understand the value of the lights picking up a plane, with nothing to shoot at it. Greater minds then mine, had chosen the site.
The lights remained in position for about 3 years, then suddenly, all disappeared. The exact spot was on field belonging to the Povey Family. I remember, an elderly lady called May Povey. There was an old mill on the farm, which abutted the River Tean. As air raid warnings waned, we lost interest in watching the lights, and few noticed, when they left. A short period, from the Second World War, now remembered by few.
John Mellor
Bombs on Uttoxeter in second world war.
Uttoxeter did not suffer that much during the war. The first stick of bombs fell in a field at Loxley, and a further stick followed later. The only 'blitz' was on the Bailey and Mellor families, in New Road ( parish of Stramshall ) - exact date forgotten, 1941/2. I was at home at 57 Park Avenue. My father was on Home Guard duties (he was too old for military service) at Bamfords Ltd, ( not JCB ! ).
I usually got up early in the summer, and walked along the unfinished by-pass and down to Park Hill Farm, breakfasted with my uncles and cousins. Then to school, or I went off scouring the fields.
On this day, I met a neighbour, Tom Simpson, veteran of the First World War. He had a strange staccato speech. He said, "The Germans hit your grandma's". I told my mother and went to the farm. Some rescue and firemen were about, but no police. I saw a large crater in the front garden, some 30 feet across, and about 20 feet deep. It was filling with water (this was the site of the old canal).
Park Cottage or farm, our neighbour, had received a direct hit, and a bomb went down the well. The whole building had collapsed. I was told that Bill, Aunt Maud and Annie had taken ladders to get Mr and Mrs Bailey out. They stopped with us, until relatives collected them. No one in our farm noticed the crater, in the front garden, until the following morning. The only damage we sustained was a cracked pane in the kitchen window, the soft soil had absorbed the blast. Over the next hour, people were coming to gaze at the bomb craters. My cousin, Teddy and I, being entrepreneurial, charged sixpence to go and look at our crater, we had made three shillings each when PWR Arthur Mellor, my father's cousin, came and stopped anyone from entering; this was not his fault, the Superintendent had instructed him.
My cousin and I, with my Uncle Dan, then went to look at the other bombs. There was an oil bomb, not detonated, blue and white and metallic. No cordon, my uncle actually touched it. I dared not. It was by the basin, where we swam. There was a oil-like substance all around it.
There was an unexploded bomb about 150 yards from the oil bomb, on land belonging to Websters. The cordon remained for weeks. Everyone forgot it. I consider it is still there. Months later my uncle sawed off the fins of the oil bomb, which he gave to my father - it was at our home, until father died in 1981, and it then disappeared.
John Mellor (John P Mellor. OBE., QSM., Ridder van den orde orange nassau, Vierdienst Kreeuz mit bande. Commandatore Polonia Restotuta.Grosse goldene Ehrenzeichen )
I usually got up early in the summer, and walked along the unfinished by-pass and down to Park Hill Farm, breakfasted with my uncles and cousins. Then to school, or I went off scouring the fields.
On this day, I met a neighbour, Tom Simpson, veteran of the First World War. He had a strange staccato speech. He said, "The Germans hit your grandma's". I told my mother and went to the farm. Some rescue and firemen were about, but no police. I saw a large crater in the front garden, some 30 feet across, and about 20 feet deep. It was filling with water (this was the site of the old canal).
Park Cottage or farm, our neighbour, had received a direct hit, and a bomb went down the well. The whole building had collapsed. I was told that Bill, Aunt Maud and Annie had taken ladders to get Mr and Mrs Bailey out. They stopped with us, until relatives collected them. No one in our farm noticed the crater, in the front garden, until the following morning. The only damage we sustained was a cracked pane in the kitchen window, the soft soil had absorbed the blast. Over the next hour, people were coming to gaze at the bomb craters. My cousin, Teddy and I, being entrepreneurial, charged sixpence to go and look at our crater, we had made three shillings each when PWR Arthur Mellor, my father's cousin, came and stopped anyone from entering; this was not his fault, the Superintendent had instructed him.
My cousin and I, with my Uncle Dan, then went to look at the other bombs. There was an oil bomb, not detonated, blue and white and metallic. No cordon, my uncle actually touched it. I dared not. It was by the basin, where we swam. There was a oil-like substance all around it.
There was an unexploded bomb about 150 yards from the oil bomb, on land belonging to Websters. The cordon remained for weeks. Everyone forgot it. I consider it is still there. Months later my uncle sawed off the fins of the oil bomb, which he gave to my father - it was at our home, until father died in 1981, and it then disappeared.
John Mellor (John P Mellor. OBE., QSM., Ridder van den orde orange nassau, Vierdienst Kreeuz mit bande. Commandatore Polonia Restotuta.Grosse goldene Ehrenzeichen )
Bobbies with guns. Straamshall and Uttoxeter« Thread Started on Aug 14, 2009, 9:17pm »
Our Local Bobbies with guns. 1941/2 Our police officers, left after mobilisation and known to me, were PC Whale, Stramshall. Sergeants Anderson (Div Clerk), Sgt. Chamberlaind (Great War veteran) and PC Jack Blower, who was called the Black Abbot, I never knew why. All ARP activities were police controlled and during 1941/2 parachutes, clearly German, were found at Bramshall, Stramshall and Marchington. We were then treated to the rare sight of our police officers carrying sidearms, large revolvers from the Great War. Stop Points, I remember, were Three Tuns junction with Ashbourne Road, Hollow, Stramshall (outside my Great Uncle Tom's), Spath and Beamhurst. Sgt. Chamberlain was always on duty outside the Three Tuns. As a Great War veteran he would have no trouble using his revolver. After a few months, the police realised that the parachutes were dropped to upset and alarm the population. It did not work. The police took off their revolvers and Stop Points were abandoned. John Mellor (John P Mellor., OBE., QSM., Ridder van den orde Orange-Nassau, Vier Dienst Kreuz mit bande, now living in Wolverhampton.)
Our Local Bobbies with guns. 1941/2 Our police officers, left after mobilisation and known to me, were PC Whale, Stramshall. Sergeants Anderson (Div Clerk), Sgt. Chamberlaind (Great War veteran) and PC Jack Blower, who was called the Black Abbot, I never knew why. All ARP activities were police controlled and during 1941/2 parachutes, clearly German, were found at Bramshall, Stramshall and Marchington. We were then treated to the rare sight of our police officers carrying sidearms, large revolvers from the Great War. Stop Points, I remember, were Three Tuns junction with Ashbourne Road, Hollow, Stramshall (outside my Great Uncle Tom's), Spath and Beamhurst. Sgt. Chamberlain was always on duty outside the Three Tuns. As a Great War veteran he would have no trouble using his revolver. After a few months, the police realised that the parachutes were dropped to upset and alarm the population. It did not work. The police took off their revolvers and Stop Points were abandoned. John Mellor (John P Mellor., OBE., QSM., Ridder van den orde Orange-Nassau, Vier Dienst Kreuz mit bande, now living in Wolverhampton.)
Park Hill Farm, Uttoxeter
My grandfather and grandmother built Park Hill Farm together, with hired labour for the roofing. My grandfather was a farmer, wheelwright and a skilled carpenter, his elder brother, Thomas, who lived at the original Mellor family home (called variously Hill Top Farm, Hill Top Cottages) near the bridle path which leads to the River Tean, was a master at most building trades. He was a valued help to his brother. The house was constructed about 1896. My grandfather had owned the Dowry Farm, Kingstone (he was 17 years old), then moved to Bottom House Public House and Farm, Leek, before making his final home at Park Hill. He had a multitude of children. The survivors, Mary, Maude, Muriel, Annie, Thomas, John James (my father), Harry (always called Dan) and several who did not survive childbirth. The acreage was about 100, later added to by extending to Bakers, The Hollow, Stramshall. It remained a working farm entirely under the control of my family until 1972, when it was sold. It continued for several more years until enveloped by the new Derby to Stoke arterial road. Documents regarding the construction, bills of despatch and laden were kept until some ten years ago in a large bureau. It passed to a non-Mellor relative. I believe the contents were destroyed. At the rear of the farm was a workshop, called simply The Shop, complete with forge, wheelwright tools, and coffins. The Mellor family always made coffins for its own family and most of Stramshall. Great Uncle Tom was the expert. The last cart made by my grandfather and his brother was in July 1938, a heavy draught, one horse, stone cart. Tom made up the body, my grandfather made the wheel. I witnessed the last 'hooping' (I have an oil painting of the scene). Preparation started several days before, wood was fetched from the river, trees were cut down, and a massive bonfire, was built in the lane leading to the canal banks. A sigh that will never be seen again. At a signal from my grandather, all his sons and nephews, all big men, dragged the cart body and placed it on trestles. Then my grandfather and his brother, with male and female 'hooping dog' tools, placed the iron tyres on the bonfire. The fire was started, and a lot of moving the tyres about transpired, the language was ripe, as was always the case. Finally when the iron tyres were white hot, the heat was intense, my grandfather and his brother, helped by the others, brought out the white hot tyres, and took them to the cart. Only minutes later, they had been fitted, and hammered into position and doused with water. My father controlled a carthorse, already saddled,(he was called Jack), he was brought to the front of the cart, and at a signal the cart and its new tyres were going into the River Tean, where the cart and tyres stayed 2 days. Then the operation ended. My grandather was 69 years old, and his brother 71 years. They never built or shod another cartwheel. We had two near neighbours, firstly The Parks, a fine residence, occupied by Cyril Bamford, and his wife who spoke fluent Spanish, Portuguese and French. I think her name was Dolores, she was always immaculately dressed, kind and not afraid to walk 150 yards for the milk, when the maids had a day off. Her sons I remember, Joseph (founder of JCB), Rupert, David (Tim). I am sure they had a daughter, but I cannot remember her name. Cyril Bamford was a brilliant engineer. The Mellors and the Allens, permitted(to their advantage) the various machines of Bamfords Ltd, Leighton Ironworks, to be tested on their fields. Secondly, Tollgate Farm was some 150 yards away on the Uttoxeter side of the farm. Mr and Mrs Bailey, semi retired farmer, good family. Their tenure ended with a German bomb, down their well. I have written about that. Our nearest farmer friends and neighbours, were the Allens, a straight, hard working family. I remember Grandfather Allen, his sister (whose name escapes me), and two sons, I knew them both. Walter, the farmer, father of my life-long friend Fred Allen and his wife. The other son was a police officer in West Bromwich. His son was also a police officer, known universally as 'Brummie', the hardest boxer to beat, an athlete and a good police officer. I met him in Willenhall, and went and got up to tricks, which might provide a further article. His decision to leave the police force saddened me. His father, I recall, may have been called Arthur. He returned to Uttoxeter on retirement, worked at Bamford's and I think bought property at Kiddlestitch.
Shared on 29 November 2009 by John Mellor.
Shared on 29 November 2009 by John Mellor.
A walk with grandfather« Thread Started on Jun 12, 2009, 2:03pm »
A Walk with Grandfather.I was about 11 years old, one summers day, when I noticed my grandfather, who lived at Park Hill Farm, New Road, Uttoxeter(Parish of Stramshall)was preparing to go out. He had his walking stick, that meant no horse and trap. His name was Percival Jackson Mellor, and he lived with his family, and my paternal grandmother, Mary Ellen(nee Leedham)He said, to me, “Come for a Walk”. We walked across the fields, to Campbell’s, and the m to Titleys Mill. We gained the Ashbourne-Uttoxeter Road, turned left over the River Tean bridge, and then into Leasons Farm. My grandfather, went and spoke to Mr.Leason, senior, we then departed, turning left. Until we reached Stevenson Bus Depot, the Yellow Bus service.We then got onto the footpath immediately opposite the Depot. Grandfather then explained that the large grass mounds, were the remnants of the Spath Quay, laughingly called Spath Ocean, by residents, who had not studied their local history. The size of four football pitches, Grandfather explained that this had been an inland port, with large barges moving loads across the country. These mounds, then became clear canal banks, and we walked on the left hand side, the field on the left being ours. The right hand side, was a public footpath, little used, by anyone. We then took a left bend in the banks, until we reached the River Tean. I asked my grandfather, what the large stones where in the river. He said, It had held an iron aqueduct, which used to cross the river.. He explained that in 1914, to assist the war effort, he had detonated explosives, and blew the aqueduct up. The scrap iron was purchased by Mr. Cyril Bamford, from The Parks opposite us. This was taken to Leighton Iron works. We then entered the rear gates of the farm. The canal banks were levelled out in 1973.Whilst at the River, Grandfather pointed out on the left side of the canal, the remains of a house. He said, Your great Uncle, John(Jack) had lived there with his wife, Dolly. An amusing character called Dolly Duck egg for her love of the fruit of ducks. . It was an isolated spot, and Great Aunt Dolly, did not like it. She moved to Stone ROAD, Uttoxeter, living in a row of cottages which she owned.. Into the front of the Farm, which was built on the canal sit, the ground had been levelled. Until the By pass was started in 1936, it was possible to walk along the old canal banks, till you reached Beesons slaughterhouse(later Keelings Yard) until you reached Ashboutne Road. Park Avenue, Slade Fields, was built on the site of the canal.John P Mellor, then living at 57 Park Avenue, Uttoxeter.
A Walk with Grandfather.I was about 11 years old, one summers day, when I noticed my grandfather, who lived at Park Hill Farm, New Road, Uttoxeter(Parish of Stramshall)was preparing to go out. He had his walking stick, that meant no horse and trap. His name was Percival Jackson Mellor, and he lived with his family, and my paternal grandmother, Mary Ellen(nee Leedham)He said, to me, “Come for a Walk”. We walked across the fields, to Campbell’s, and the m to Titleys Mill. We gained the Ashbourne-Uttoxeter Road, turned left over the River Tean bridge, and then into Leasons Farm. My grandfather, went and spoke to Mr.Leason, senior, we then departed, turning left. Until we reached Stevenson Bus Depot, the Yellow Bus service.We then got onto the footpath immediately opposite the Depot. Grandfather then explained that the large grass mounds, were the remnants of the Spath Quay, laughingly called Spath Ocean, by residents, who had not studied their local history. The size of four football pitches, Grandfather explained that this had been an inland port, with large barges moving loads across the country. These mounds, then became clear canal banks, and we walked on the left hand side, the field on the left being ours. The right hand side, was a public footpath, little used, by anyone. We then took a left bend in the banks, until we reached the River Tean. I asked my grandfather, what the large stones where in the river. He said, It had held an iron aqueduct, which used to cross the river.. He explained that in 1914, to assist the war effort, he had detonated explosives, and blew the aqueduct up. The scrap iron was purchased by Mr. Cyril Bamford, from The Parks opposite us. This was taken to Leighton Iron works. We then entered the rear gates of the farm. The canal banks were levelled out in 1973.Whilst at the River, Grandfather pointed out on the left side of the canal, the remains of a house. He said, Your great Uncle, John(Jack) had lived there with his wife, Dolly. An amusing character called Dolly Duck egg for her love of the fruit of ducks. . It was an isolated spot, and Great Aunt Dolly, did not like it. She moved to Stone ROAD, Uttoxeter, living in a row of cottages which she owned.. Into the front of the Farm, which was built on the canal sit, the ground had been levelled. Until the By pass was started in 1936, it was possible to walk along the old canal banks, till you reached Beesons slaughterhouse(later Keelings Yard) until you reached Ashboutne Road. Park Avenue, Slade Fields, was built on the site of the canal.John P Mellor, then living at 57 Park Avenue, Uttoxeter.
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