Safely To The Other Side

 

Another way to cross the River Mersey is the method I’ll be using later today: travelling through the Mersey Tunnel. The Queensway Tunnel - the one I’ll be using - was constructed in 1934, the year before this fine old picture postcard was sent. Built at a cost of £8 million, it was the world’s longest road tunnel for the first fourteen years of its existence. A masterpiece of twentieth-century civil engineering, it will hopefully get me safely to the other side.

Ferry Across The Mersey

 

Later this weekend, I will be crossing the River Mersey. To celebrate, here is a photograph taken during a trip across the river more than seventy years ago. Later this year, I hope to make a slightly longer water crossing to be reunited with my brother. For now, we will have to be satisfied with this memory from all those years ago, captured during our “Ferry Across the Mersey.”

The Uses Of Zion

 

Coming across this old photograph - which I must have taken forty or more years ago - I was initially unsure of the exact location, as most northern towns and cities had a Mount Zion Chapel. I eventually narrowed it down to a building on Westfield Terrace in Sheffield, which has had a colourful history: it has served as a chapel, part of the old Royal Hospital, offices and, more recently, apartments. Fine buildings should have many uses; it is good to see them adapted over time.

Municipal Pride

The third element of my Dewsbury triptych is the rather beautiful Dewsbury Town Hall, built in 1886 by local architects Henry Hottom and George A. Fox. It dates from a time when municipal pride was competitive, and local towns tried to outdo one another in the scale and beauty of their public buildings. For a town of its size, Dewsbury would take a lot of outdoing!

Dewsbury Top And Bottom

 

The second of my Dewsbury triptych celebrates that moment - which all photographers know well - when you suddenly catch sight of an alignment of objects or an idiosyncratic collection of shapes, and snap away with enthusiastic abandon. Your companions look at you as though you’ve taken leave of whatever sense you had - but you have spotted a top market and some mannequin bottoms.

Stone Heroes

When brothers Robert and William Machell built their new mill in Dewsbury in 1874, they chose to incorporate four finely carved stone portraits into the fabric of the handsome Cloth Hall Mill. Two depicted themselves - upper right and lower left - while the others portrayed the then Prime Minister, Benjamin Disraeli (upper left), and Richard Cobden, the former radical Liberal MP for the West Riding. I stopped to say hello to all four while walking around Dewsbury last week.

Rooftops And Chimneypots

 

I remember taking this photograph half a century or more ago, at a time when there was an outcry against TV aerials as despoilers of urban landscapes. I was always rather fond of them - there was an idiosyncrasy about them that is sadly lacking in their modern equivalents. Add a decent collection of chimney pots to the scene, and you almost have a work of sculpture.

Reversing Requires Remark Methinks

Is there anything better than an old picture postcard - with a dramatic scene of waves breaking over the Blackpool seashore on one side and a cryptic message on the other The card appears to have been sent by my grandfather, Albert Beanland, to his brother, Fowler Beanland. The message reads, “Methinks remark requires reversing.” Make of that what you will.

Look, Duck And Vanish

 

At the outbreak of World War II, my father (on the left in the photograph), who was in a reserved occupation, joined the Local Defence Volunteers (LDV). He always claimed that LDV stood for “look, duck and vanish”. The organisation later became the Home Guard, and he was tasked with defending Baildon Bridge, near Bradford, in case the Germans sailed up the Leeds and Liverpool Canal. Who do you think you are kidding, Mr Hitler?

Half A World Away

 A cobbled street of almost mountainous proportions, gas lamps casting light over a greyscale scene, and washing lines stretching from side to side like cut-price bunting: this was Claremount, Halifax, in the late 1960s. I took the photograph more than half a century ago, and more than half a world away.

Heritage

 I've only ever worked in a mill as a holiday job while at university - really, I was just playing at it. But I am the son, grandson, and great-grandson of mill workers. Threads of yarn bind my genes together, and bobbins form the bones of my ancestry. I took this photograph at Bradford Industrial Museum. The machines stood still and silent, but history roared through the building.

Woodwork

I'm not quite sure how I acquired this photograph. I don't appear in it, and it isn't my school. None of that matters, however: the scene rings more bells than a school clock. I spent many an unhappy hour dowelling a dovetail joint (or whatever it was) and creating a footstool that eventually collapsed the first time anyone sat on it. Ah, woodwork!

The Collector

 

There is a pleasure in collecting old photographs of unknown people. They are people who long ago departed this world, leaving behind only a few fading family memories and the occasional faded photograph. We get to shine a light on these forgotten faces and imagine what might have been.

Tired And Grainy

I must have taken this photograph almost sixty years ago. It’s grainy, low in contrast, tired, and of dubious quality. I asked AI to improve it, and it produced a version that was shiny, sharp, and so, so wrong. This is the Halifax I remember. Perhaps I, too, am grainy, tired, and of dubious quality. I don’t care.

Swift Sorrow

 

“Sorry I could not see you this morning” was the brief message from FW to Mr S. Mellor of Leeds in July 1903. The choice of picture postcard is an interesting one: not only does it depict a fine Victorian building, but it also happens to be my old school. Most interesting of all, however, is the fact that a postcard sent in the morning could be delivered the very same day!

Questions, Answers

 

I have no idea who this group of women is or why so many of them are dressed in a similar style. You can speculate to your heart’s content and still probably come nowhere near a convincing answer. Even the most powerful AI systems available can only suggest that they are “likely to be members of a women’s society or club.” Yet that is the beauty of old photographs: they pose questions but rarely provide answers.

To The Saloon

Just one of the many decorative plaques found outside the truly magnificent Black Friar pub on Queen Victoria Street in London. The decorations inside are even more spectacular, making the pub an essential stop for any visitor to London. I first discovered it more than 50 years ago, and I still visit every time I am in the capital.

Georgie Girl

I saw this lady at the Ferens Gallery in Hull. I asked her permission to take the photograph and she voiced no objections. She is Georgie, the wife of the artist Arthur Joseph Gaskin (1862-1928). She is rather beautiful.

Land, Sea And Sky

 

Skegness, 1982: Out there somewhere lies the sea. Somewhere behind us is the land. Between the two stretches an endless series of sand-filled boundaries - land and sea, sea and sky - inhabited by that hardiest of annuals: the seaside holidaymaker.

Bus Stop At The End Of The World

This is another example of my somewhat imaginative use of captions to mask the fact that, after the best part of fifty years, I can’t remember exactly where I was when I took this photograph. No doubt it was somewhere in West Yorkshire, where I found a rather isolated bus stop - hence: “Bus stop at the end of the world.”

Market Times

I think I may have used this photograph of mine before for my daily calendar, but never mind - it is well worth a second outing. It shows Halifax Borough Market more than half a century ago. The clothing provides the main evidence for dating the image, while the sheer number of people reflects a time before supermarket home deliveries and Amazon Prime parcels.

Questions

Was Connie staying at the Midland Hotel in Bradford? What examination was she due to take on the 3rd of April? Did she pass? Questions, questions, questions. These days, it would be a WhatsApp message, with the answer on the next line. We would be left with no intriguing questions - and no delightful illustration of the Midland Hotel.

The Imperfections Of Age

The problem with modern AI-driven photo-restoration apps is their need for perfection. Faces become as fresh as regenerated daisies, and clothing appears dry-cleaner pressed. Old photos need blotches, smudges, and indistinct patches. They should show their age and wear their imperfections with pride. Just ask my great-uncle Wilson and his wife, Clara.

In Praise Of Chimneys

 

In these parts, we erect tall monuments to civic pride, elaborate steeples as testaments to divine redemption, and monolithic chimneys in praise of the God of Industry. Egypt may have the pyramids and Athens the Acropolis, but Halifax has the Corona Chimney at Dean Clough.

Job Done

 

As I continue to work my way through hundreds of old negatives - the legacy of a lifetime of photography - I valiantly try to categorise and organise the shots by attaching precise descriptions and accurate keywords. For this 1985 shot, the description is "Somewhere in East Anglia" and the keyword is "water". Job done.

Road As Art

 

I am of the opinion that you should never let a month go by without including at least one photograph of Burdock Way in Halifax. This majestic concrete structure, soaring over the Hebble Valley, provides an urban backdrop of endless dramatic lines and sultry curves. It is road as art.

Christmas Club

 

It’s the 1st of September, and all the shops will be getting ready for Christmas. Before we condemn this as another twenty-first-century excursion into the realms of cheap commercialism, take a look at this advertisement from the Halifax Evening Courier from exactly 100 years ago. Just imagine: for 2/6 per week, you could get, among other things, 1 lb of the best sultana raisins, a pint of table jelly, and a 26-piece dinner service. That’s what Christmas is all about.

Committee Choice

 

Realising that I hadn't chosen an image for today’s calendar by 10 p.m. last night, I turned to a committee of friends I was sharing a drink or three with and asked them to choose a photo from my archives. They came up with this picture of Skegness Boating Lake, taken back in the early 1980s. If you don't like it, take it up with Denis, Sue and Isobel.

Fair Question

Where do seaside fairground rides go during the winter? They sit in storage facilities, waiting for the sun to shine, waiting for the music to start again.

The Family's Past

 

Albert was the only member of the family to leave Bradford behind - the factories, the mills, and the smell of lanolin. Rose Ellen was wedded to the future but drawn to the past: Victorian in a post-Victorian world. Ivy would see so much, yet miss out on even more. Pictures from the family’s past.

Up, Down, Bump

 

I've always believed in looking up as we walk through a town or city to admire the architectural wonders that so often surround us. Equally, however, it is worth looking down - especially if, like me, you are a fan of drain covers. I have quite a collection of photographs of them; I took this one in St. John's, on the island of Antigua. Since I spend so much time either looking up or looking down, don't be surprised if I bump into you one day.

Seaside Shadows

 

A seaside holiday: flat caps, thick overcoats, and a bench overlooking the sun-stroked sands. Watching the worm diggers and perhaps sharing a potted-meat sandwich. The sun casts shadows across the stone jetty, while the sea leaves ripples in the sand.

Earl Of Buffs

 

I've always worked on the principle that, if you're walking past a pub, you should take a picture of it and then pop in for a pint - in case it isn't there the next time you pass. I clearly adhered to this principle in the early 1980s when I passed the Earl of Arundel pub in Sheffield. Sadly, I didn't attend a meeting of the Royal Antediluvian Order of Buffaloes (RAOB). I've always rather fancied being a Buff, but I've never been invited to join.

Happy Anniversary

 

When this photograph was taken, Issy and I had already been together for three years. Three years later, we were married. That was 53 years ago today. That's an awful lot of days. And I wouldn’t change a single one of them.

Set In Stone

You could walk to the top of Shaw Lane in Halifax today and take a photograph similar to this one. I took mine almost half a century ago, but the mills are still standing and the cobbles are still set in the road. The stonework is cleaner these days, and that sense of post-industrial abandonment has lifted.

Peter Howell

 

We lost a dear friend of over fifty years last week. Peter Howell was a noted classicist, a distinguished architectural historian, and a former chair of the Victorian Society. Perhaps most of all, he was a wise, witty, and loyal friend. This has always been one of my favourite photographs of him. I took it at Tunnel End in Marsden in the early 1970s. That kind smile will remain with Isobel and I forever.

Home

 

Home - 'nuff said.

Rough Sleeper

 

While walking around Greyfriars Kirkyard, I came across the tomb of William Littil (1525–1601), who was Provost of Edinburgh and one of the founders of the University of Edinburgh. The tomb’s elaborate carving was not completed until some eighty years after his death, and it has clearly seen better days. The additional head appears to represent either Justice or Prudence, who flanked the tomb in the seventeenth century.

Cheers

 

Whenever I visit Edinburgh, I try to make time to visit the Queen Street rooms of the Scotch Malt Whisky Society. I've been a member for more than thirty years, and tonight I'll have the pleasure of taking my son and daughter-in-law there for a meal. With any luck, we'll also have time for a little sampling.

Auld Reekie

I've gone to Edinburgh for a few days. Hopefully, I'll have a chance to take some photographs. Here's one I took earlier.

Gone Shopping For History

I know this photo was taken before my time - though, I have to admit, not that much before my time - but I can still identify with the shopfronts on Crown Street, Halifax. H. Samuel was selling lucky wedding rings, Dolcis was helping to give Crown Street its name - “shoe shop street” - and Boots was dispensing prescriptions on the Market corner. You can take an afternoon historical walk without putting the photograph down!

Facing Up To Halifax

Someone told me the other evening that I was responsible for them looking up whenever they walked around Halifax. As long as one keeps half an eye out for dangerous lampposts, this is a habit to be encouraged. Here’s a little test for all potential building spotters: where would you find this particular version of the famous “holy face”? I’ve provided the answer as a what3words location.

Sing, Sing, Sing

 

This is one of my photographs from my time helping out at Marsden Jazz Festival twenty years ago. Sometimes an image is enough - you don't need words. Add music to taste.

Sound Or Silence

Back in the 1980s, as I was slowly losing what little natural hearing I had left, I would often go to Cleethorpes. I was drawn, in particular, to the latticework of timber and iron struts beneath the pier. I have dozens of such photographs in my archives. There was something about the almost digital arrangement of black and white - on or off, sound or silence - that suited my mood. Such times are always worth revisiting.

Given Views

 

There are few finer moments than when you’re sitting in a pub, enjoying a pint, and some kind person comes up to you, hands you a book, and says, “We were having a clear-out and came across this old book about Halifax, and immediately thought of you.”

Sheffield Arts

I took this photograph from the front door of the Sheffield house we were living in back in the early 1980s. The tall building is the splendid 20th-century University Arts Tower; the building next to it is the equally splendid 19th-century St George’s Hospital. The snow on the ground was pre-global warming, and the grey photographic grain was pre-digital photography.

Earlier

We have friends coming to visit this week - friends of over five decades - who have come to love our little bit of Yorkshire. We will see the sights, revisit familiar places and note the changes, and we will probably take photographs. Here's one I took earlier.

Nostalgia

 

Ah, those simple summer days of long ago - when Beacon Hill was bare of trees, when charity parades meant kids riding on the back of lorries, when King Street was cobbled, and when mill chimneys still split the sky. (Feel free to insert your own nostalgic meanderings as required.)