Friday, 13 September 2019

Guest Blog - The characters of lost Mill Hill by Richard Wilkinson


Mill Hill Broadway circa 1973
Mill Hill has changed beyond recognition over the 70 odd years that I've spent living in the locality. My last blog talked about what it was like in the 50's as a teenager. But there is much more to Mill Hill than just the shops. The characters of Mill Hill are just as interesting. Many have passed away, many have moved, many I've lost touch with. I could tell many a tale of the shenanigans of old Mill Hill. The characters who frequented the pubs and the clubs.  As the Broadway didn't have a pub, if you liked a drink, you had to join the Mill Hill Services club. The club was set up in 1926 and has been going strong ever since. In the 1960's, you'd see all manner of stars of the film industry. Patrick McGoohan, star of Dangerman and The Prisoner was a local and would often bring his mates in for a beer and a game of snooker. There were many other famous people in Mill Hill, Graham Hill lived in Parkside and Roger Moore, then The Saint lived locally as well.




Stuart Taylor (on left) Pic courtesy Ray Randall
Kelly's Corner garage was run by Keith Taylor and his brother Stuart was the lead guitarist of 60's legends The Tornadoes. You'd often see Keith helping keep their van on the road, as I recall it was an old Bedford model. There is an amusing story about the van. The band had picked it up for about £15 and it was almost falling apart. When they started to become well known, they were booked to appear in a gig up North. Having signed a record deal, the band had bought a stack of expensive musical equipment. On returning, they decided to stop at one of the all night truckers cafe's that you'd find on the A1. As the band emerged after tea and bacon sarnies, they were horrified to find that the van had been stolen. As there was several thousands of pounds of equipment, including newly imported Fender guitars, they were absolutely gutted. Then they spotted that the theives had kindly removed all of the equipment from the van and left it neatly piled at the side of the road. They couldn't believe their luck.


Many of the local shops had interesting characters as well. The Blunt brothers ran the Model Shop, by Mill Hill Circus roundabout (next to Cosways). They had a seemingly encyclopedic knowledge of everything that, as a young boy, you'd want to know. Trains, model aeroplanes, meccano. They sold Humbrol paints, balsa wood, enthusiasts magazines and all manner of bit and pieces that were highly useful for putting bits and pieces together. I recall once asking the older of the two brothers how he happened to know so much about second world war aeroplanes, as I bought a kit. He replied "because it's a very interesting subject". He then explained that they'd set the shop up because they loved the products they sold and enjoyed helping develop a love of engineering and making things in young people. They used to fix peoples train sets when they had broken engines etc. He explained that it was fascinating and getting paid to do it was a bonus.

The other great little shop in the Broadway was Kentfields toy shop. Run by Mr Kentfield and as I recall assisted by his sisters. It was a great source of board games, my younger sister would buy accessories for her dolls house, beautifully crafted miniature, chests of draws and lamp stands. In late November, we'd be taken in for a 'look around'. Mum was doing a recce for Christmas presents and wanted to see what caught our eyes. I recall Mr Kentfield being rather knowledgeable about the various board games on offer. I can recall that at one time I developed an interest in chess. I went to Kentifields to purchase a chess set and he enquired whether I was any good. When I told him that I was just starting out, he recommended that I borrow a book on the subject from the library. He said "if you read that and you can take it all in, you'll soon be beating all of your friends". This was sound advice, and I was soon the form champion at school! A few months later, I nipped in for something else and he asked how the chess playing was coming on. When I told him that I'd won a tournament at the school, he said "just remember, if you want success at anything, do your homework, it pays dividends". Those were wise words and

Then there was Mr Frank Callis who ran the bike shop. The shop was dark and dingy, but he was a mine of useful information. He'd always spend time to explain things, show you little tricks and get you on your way when you had a problem with your bike. There aren't any shops like Callis in Mill Hill any more, I wonder if there are any in London at all? Callis bike shop was demolished to make way for what is now Marks and Spencers.

Another shop that had an interesting Mill Hill character was Woolworths. Mrs Clitheroe was the floor supervisor. She would keep an eye on the staff and the customers. I had quite a few friends who had Saturday jobs over the years and they were all a little bit scared of her, but she was also very kind to staff when they had problems. She took a real pride in the store, it was her shop. She would walk the aisles, straightening up merchandise that customers had had the temerity to look at and not put back neatly.

Mill Hill was the type of place where everyone knew everyone. The local roadsweeper, who also kept an eye on the loo's in Hartley Avenue was for many years Mr Day. He'd walk up and down the Broadway, keeping the street clean and an eye on what was going on. He had a magnolia coloured cart that he'd put any litter he swept up into. If he saw any hoodlums dropping litter, he'd fire a volley of abuse at them and insist it was picked up. He lived in Mill Hill, latterly in Goodwyn Avenue and he took a pride in the area.

The local bobby in the 1960's was Charlie Dawson. He was a big man who liked a beer. If you misbehaved, he'd give you a thick ear. He was a stalwart member of the community and whilst he could be rather stern in his line of work, he was also a kind hearted and generous man. He was an old school copper, who knew the difference between the spirit and the letter of the law. He once saw me driving a friends Dads car, before I had a licence. He made a point of stopping me later and saying "I saw you driving, you don't have a licences, do you?" I was terrified. He said "You do realise that I could arrest you on the spot and driving with no insurance is a prisonable offence". I explained that my friends Dad (the friend had a licence) had asked him to fill it up with petrol and he'd let me drive it back (it was about a quarter of a mile from Kellys Corner Garage). He sternly said that if he ever saw me driving illegally again, he'd arrest me on the spot. He then said "If you want to learn to drive, get yourself a licence and do it properly, don't be a fool". About a year later, I passed my test. I bumped into Charlie and told him as I didn't want him pulling me over. He was very friendly and said "Well done son".

Of course there were also the characters in Mill Hill who were rather more interesting. The likes of Bunny Ennis and Porky Faulkner. You'd catch Bunny in the bar of Hendon and Edgware Rugby club in Mill Hill Park, regaling all with his tall tales. Bunny was involved in the motor trade and was perhaps Mill Hills answer to Arthur Daly. He was always entertaining and good humoured. Porky was involved in all manner of ventures. His favourite haunt was the Mill. Perhaps his best claim to fame was that he caught two travellers trying to steal his car. One pulled out a knife and stabbed him. Porky retrieved the knife from his own stomach and proceeded to stab the assailant to death. The judge concluded that it was a justifiable act of self defence.

Brother Hermann of St Jospehs College
Another fascinating character was Brother Hermann. He used to run the farm at St Josephs College on Lawrence Street. Herman was a Dutchman, who spoke very basic English. My mum used to do some sowing for him, in return, he'd supply us with fresh eggs, bags of apples from the College Orchard and the occasional lettuce. When we were small, he'd let us see the piglets when the pigs had given birth. It took me a long time to figure out what 'Goooood Baycon" meant. If we were really lucky, he'd take us for a drive around the farm in his tractor. The lower field, as you walk across the footpath from Lawrence Street was a football pitch for the numerous students at the college in the 1960's. In the summer Hermann would graze the cows on it. He'd take us down and tell us the art of rounding them up. For many years, he had a large German Shepard dog, that was a friendly fellow, sadly and perhaps rather ironically for a dog that kept guard of a religious institution, he was struck by lightening and died. 

As I recall, his name was Pluto. For a couple of days a year, Hermann would be the least popular man in Mill Hill. Every year he'd do muckspreading and the whole of Mill Hill would stink. In the 1950's and 60's, people accepted that Mill Hill was semi rural and would accept it. I wonder what locals would make of it today?

There is an amazing library of pictures of Mill Hill as it was on the Mempics site. Have a look, it is well worth it.

http://mempics.jalbum.net/Mill%20Hill%20Memories/

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Guest blogs are always welcome at The Barnet Eye. Richard Wilkinson is a long time Mill Hill resident who enjoys writing about his memories. Please note Richard writes under a pseudoname as unlike some people in Mill Hill, he's not an attention seeker! He has also put together an excellent website for local people - https://millhillbroadway.org/

1 comment:

CC Hogan said...

Bloody hell, I remember Bunny Ennis. I knew his daughter Linda when we were young. Bunny had a garage in the Isle of Dogs, which was a long hike from Mill Hill. I went down there a few times to be a bit of slave labour. Good bloke.