Caught Short
Have you ever been ‘caught short’ by the circumstances of life? I’m not talking bowel and bladder functions here, but more “How in blazes do I get out of this pickle?” situation. Over the years, I've gradually come to accept that not all problems posed in one's life can be solved and that sometimes the best way out is to simply 'go with the flow' and just hope for the best for 'better things to come'.
Having organized more charitable and reading events over the past twenty years than I care to remember, it was only natural that some unexpected and wholly unanticipated incidents would occasionally occur, which threatened to jeopardise the proceedings of the hour.
Having organized more charitable and reading events over the past twenty years than I care to remember, it was only natural that some unexpected and wholly unanticipated incidents would occasionally occur, which threatened to jeopardise the proceedings of the hour.
Robert Swan, the Antarctic explorer who was the first person ever to walk the two Poles, both North and South, twice gave me collywobbles of acute anxiety. On each occasion, the insumountable obstacles delaying his progress wasn't a polar bear or having fallen through the melting ice cap, but was down to nothing less than the usual Friday afternoon M6 Motorway traffic jam and 10-mile tail back, along with a herd of Flockton milking cows on their way home after a day in the fields.
Since January,1986 after Robert had walked to the South Pole, my admiration for his magnificent feat had grown the more I learned about this remarkable man who seemed utterly fearless. Here was a man with the world as his oyster before him' He was a man who'd forsaken all on the desire to 'do it', simply because it was there and had 'never been done'! It is an incredible to comprehend that prior to this 70-day walk without a radio in the most hazardous of conditions across some of the most treacherous land mass on the face of the Earth, Robert Swan had never so much as 'gone camping'! Indeed, the only thing he appeared to be seasoned in was 'doing his own thing'; much to his family's chagrin.
The first occasion I met this explorer was in 1994 when Robert had agreed to read to an assembly of children at a school in Lindley, Huddersfield from a book of stories written by me and children in Huddersfield primary schools. The book was entitled, 'Our World' and the six best stories submitted would be printed in it along with two environmental stories of my own. From the outset, the two most suitable celebrities to have been involved in the project were Robert Swan and Anita Roddick and I was extremely pleased when they both agreed to do so.
Robert had added to his 1986 conquest of the South Pole by conquering the North Pole in May, 1989; and in doing so, making himself the first person ever to have walked to both poles. With regard to the 'Our World' project I was organising, Anita Roddick had already started off the first leg of the book project while Robert was globetrotting and he was now continuing with the second leg of the book project while Anita did some of her own globetrotting around the Brazillian rainforest. While Robert preoccupied his life with the earth's colder climate, Anita concentrated her actvities on the much warmer side of the globe.
As 250 school children, teachers and a guest singer waited for Robert to arrive, he was unfortunately delayed; stuck in as traffic jam, 120 miles down the M6. Having waited 40 minutes for him on junction 25 of the M62, I realised that something had gone wrong. One hour later, I began to panic. I felt responsible somehow, even though the delay hadn’t been anything to do with me.
When I discovered the reason for the delay, I borrowed a phone to ring the school, not being the owner of a mobile at that time. As I handed the phone back to the lady motorist who’d kindly loaned me it, she started to grimace in acute pain and groan at me. Before I could reassure her that I hadn’t used up all her credit and had only been a matter of minutes on the phone, I noticed her belly and quickly concluded that she either needed to embark on a crash diet soon before she exploded her guts for all and sundry to see or that she was heavily pregnant with child and was on the verge of delivery!
“Phone an ambulance,” she groaned, confirming that very soon she’d be lighter by a good eight pounds, and that it wouldn’t be anything that Weight Watchers could take the credit for! “Phone an ambulance quick,” she grimaced, “I’m having my baby now!” She had obviously started with labour pains as she started to scream down the phone to the 999 operator for the ambulance 'to come quick.'
I started to silently curse Robert for placing me in this predicament and speculated that, given the choice of dilemmas, I would rather traverse both Poles than be left ‘holding the baby’ near a motorway roundabout in the event that the ambulance didn’t arrive in time. I also began to half-regret asking to borrow the woman’s mobile in preference to asking a nearby hairy-chested lorry driver eating a greasy hotdog instead! As luck would have it, the labour pains temporarily abated and as soon as the ambulance arrived on the scene some five minutes later, it was back to square one.
Robert eventually arrived and the school event that was supposed to start at 2pm began at 4pm, with attendance of the children now optional (it now being after school finishing time of 3.45pm). The children and their parents stayed behind in large numbers to see this explorer; no doubt influenced by the presence of the press and the TV who had remained throughout, and in the hope that their little Jimmy or Sarah might be caught on camera for all the neighbours to see on the 6.30pm local news later that evening. The event was a huge success, but so nearly went sadly wrong.
Robert told me later, that in the overall scale of things, a two-hour delay wasn't all that bad, given what he'd experienced when he traversed the Poles. He told me that when initially decided to raise the money for the cost of an expedition to the Antartica and the South Pole, it took him five years to raise the $5 million required from one thousand sponsors, along with persuading 25 volunteers to give up three years of their lives. After his sail there and his 70-day trek across the Antartic, he arrived at the South Pole to find his ship had sunk in the ice. But that didn't deter him. Three years later, he had raised sufficient funds for another expedition and set out to walk across the Antartic to reach the North Pole with a multinational team of seven. While there, Robert was able to observe the increased melting of the ice cap and the worsening perforation of the ozone layer, which he reported back on.
Having learnt all this, I felt somewhat churlish and by way of an apology, I removed my 'Douglas the Dragon' jumper that I'd had specially knitted and gave him it as a present to wear, should he ever find himself out in the Antartic again! I often muse that this will be the only way that my most popular book character 'Douglas the Dragon' may one day go global: if it finishes up on the back of Robert as he wears it upon another record-breaking journey across the ice and snow!
Robert read for me again at a school in Emley, Huddersfield a few years later. Because of the hiccup he created during the last occasion he’d read, he rearranged his commitments in Sweden and booked a special flight to Manchester in order to keep the appointment with the children, even though he had to fly straight back to Sweden immediately after the reading event. It was his way of apologising for having being delayed previously. What a perfect gentleman! He deserves the OBE he received from the Queen, and he also deserves to wear my 'Douglas the Dragon' jumper!
In order to mark the specialness of the occasion for this conqueror of both Poles, I planned that he would be driven to the school venue in style. I eventually located a unique vintage car of Italian origin, the name of which I cannot recall. There were only two models of its type existing in the world, and had it been up for sale, the buyer could not expect change out of £1,500,000. Yes! A million and a half quid!
It took me over ten weeks to locate one of the car owners of this vintage vehicle. I was amazed to discover that he didn’t live on the Isle of Capri or some other exotic place one might expect to bump into the owner of a vintage car in the £1,500,000 plus bracket. The owner of the car lived within one mile from where I lived in Mirfield. He eventually agreed to loan the use of the car to me for the intended purpose of transporting Robert who was arriving at Manchester Airport to EmleyFirst School in it at no charge. However, given the value of the vehicle, he insisted upon driving it himself.
It took me over ten weeks to locate one of the car owners of this vintage vehicle. I was amazed to discover that he didn’t live on the Isle of Capri or some other exotic place one might expect to bump into the owner of a vintage car in the £1,500,000 plus bracket. The owner of the car lived within one mile from where I lived in Mirfield. He eventually agreed to loan the use of the car to me for the intended purpose of transporting Robert who was arriving at Manchester Airport to EmleyFirst School in it at no charge. However, given the value of the vehicle, he insisted upon driving it himself.
On the last two miles of the journey, the vintage car was obliged to detour and travelled through Flockton and then proceed up the narrowest of country lanes towards Emley village. As the £1,500,000 of vehicle slowly motored up the narrow country lane, 100 milking cows were being shepherded down the narrow country lane by the farmer. Only at that moment did it dawn on me that as the charity event organizer, I’d not arranged any necessary additional insurance cover for the car we were using to promote the event. Given the huge value and uniqueness of the vintage taxi, I naturally started to anticipate all possible outcomes in the event of an unfortunate accident; something which would not have enhanced my status within the expensive car owner fraternity upon whom I heavily depended to escort my celebrity readers around the schools they were reading at.
Not being content with bringing his brown cow herd home at the end of the day, the farmer opened the gate of an adjoining field where he kept around two dozen Fresian cattle and allowed them to join the herd of browns that he'd started off with. The first map-like Fresian out of the field took fright and bolted; setting off like the clappers down the road towards us. I'd visions of some almighty collision as the running cow approached, but at the very last moment, it suddenly pulled up sharpish in response to the farmer's command.The car owner gingerly pulled his vehicle into the side, no doubt hoping to minimise any damage to his motorised baby. As the smiling farmer passed by with the skill of a Texas cattle drover, armed only with a twig from a hawthorn bush and a broad Yorkshire voice, he tapped the car bonnet and said, “Good day! Nice bit of iron, but too posh for round here!”
We eventually arrived at the school in Emley Village and the event proved to be a huge success. We thought it wiser to obtain some more conventional transport for Robert to catch his plane back to Sweden, so one of the staff had been layed on to assist in this process.
I recall that during 1992, I arranged for the comedian Bobby Ball to read in a school at Earls Heaton, Dewsbury. This was to be the first public reading of my book ‘Midnight Fighter.’ Initially, the book should have come off the printing presses two days prior to Bobby’s reading, but due to some unavoidable delay, the first copy rolled off the press one hour prior to the scheduled reading.
Listen to 'Midnight Fighter' by clicking here
Listen to 'Midnight Fighter' by clicking here
Initially I thought ‘We’d just made it in time’ but was then disappointed to learn that none of the books could be read from that morning as they needed ‘to cool down.’ So, being stuck with having no book to read from on the day of a book launch, I did the next best thing and got the story typed out in large letters for Bobby to read from at the class assembly.
One day earlier, Bobby (who was appearing at Bradford Alhambra), had seemingly made some politically incorrect joke/comment about the ‘non-white Bradfordians’ and as he was ‘hot news’ with the media, the local TV station had sent out cameras and a reporter to cover his school visit to Dewsbury.
One day earlier, Bobby (who was appearing at Bradford Alhambra), had seemingly made some politically incorrect joke/comment about the ‘non-white Bradfordians’ and as he was ‘hot news’ with the media, the local TV station had sent out cameras and a reporter to cover his school visit to Dewsbury.
Before the reading, I told Bobby about having to read the story from ten pages of typed script instead of out of the book and being the seasoned trooper he was he seemed perfectly happy with the eleventh-hour change in plans. Bobby started to read the story and as he got towards the second page he was his usual jokey self and was fooling around for the purpose of the TV cameras. Just then, he accidently dropped his ten pages of script onto the floor and picked them up randomly. It was only at that point that I realised that in the hurry earlier that morning as I ran out the door of my typist's office that none of the ten typed pages of script had been ‘numbered’ by the secretary.
Needless to say, Bobby, being the professional he is, simply carried on with the show; reading as the pages appeared in his hands, whatever the inaccuracy of their sequence or the manner of their meaning. The children loved it, and to this day, the events as they truly transpired that morning, have never been made public knowledge until now.
This departure from the story script as penned by ‘yours truly’ was not to be an isolated incident in my fifteen years in visiting over two thousand Yorkshire schools.
Needless to say, Bobby, being the professional he is, simply carried on with the show; reading as the pages appeared in his hands, whatever the inaccuracy of their sequence or the manner of their meaning. The children loved it, and to this day, the events as they truly transpired that morning, have never been made public knowledge until now.
This departure from the story script as penned by ‘yours truly’ was not to be an isolated incident in my fifteen years in visiting over two thousand Yorkshire schools.
I recall during the 90s when Matthew Corbett and his puppet sidekick, Sooty, read from one of my books at a school in Batley, how that couple also took things into their own hands and departed from the script. I had first seen Sooty and Harry Corbett when I was around 13 years old on the BBC television children's show, 'Saturday Special' at the home of one of my better-off friends. I now had the opportunity to see how his son Matthew now measured up to his old man's performances. I gave Matthew the book to read from and sat back. A few minutes into the performance, I realised that Matthew was not the type of person to do anything to cue and that he had planned his own script in advance.
Matthew told the assembled children that Sooty would perform the reading and I was asked to assist by holding the book up for the puppet to read from. The occasion proved to be hilarious and a huge success. I can’t recall precisely what Sooty read that morning, but can report, hand on heart, that they were words that I’d never written! I can also report that I needed a change of clothes after the performance as Sooty had drenched me in water with his famous water pistol every time I opened my mouth or looked in his direction.
While Matthew was undoubtedly a performer of the highest of professional standards, I gained the impression at the time that 'filling his hand' after the death of his father and ensuring that Sooty didn't also die with his creator was not ideally what he wanted to do with the remainder of his life. I wasn't a bit surprised therefore, when in the years after I was to learn that Matthew had retired. He had stopped being the puppet to the dreams of another and had sold out his interest in Sooty, saying for the final performance the very line that his father had started so many years earlier, "Bye, bye everyone. Bye, bye!'
It’s strange the things in one’s life that ‘catches one short’, isn’t it?
Copyright William Forde March, 2012.
It’s strange the things in one’s life that ‘catches one short’, isn’t it?
Copyright William Forde March, 2012.
