'Television Presenters'
During my years of acquiring celebrities to read my books in Yorkshire schools, I have been fortunate to persuade many regional television presenters along with a couple of bigger fish from the national school of broadcasting.
First, my appreciation must go to the television presenter, Harry Gration, of Leeds ‘Look North’ who has adorned our regional screens for at least 25 years so far. Harry has read for me two or three times and has always taken a genuine interest in everything that goes on within the West Yorkshire area. In fact, he’s that much a part of the ‘Look North’ furniture now that it just wouldn’t seem like ‘Look North’ without Harry. I am proud that he was amongst the first dozen celebrity readers whom I invited to read in our schools along with his colleague of old, Judith Stamper.
The first ‘big fish’ television presenter I ever managed to persuade to read for me in our schools was the late Richard Whiteley. Richard was very much a family man who thoroughly enjoyed being in the presence of children. Even after the tremendous success of ‘Countdown,' Richard never became filled with his own sense of ‘importance. Whatever I asked him to do during the six or seven times he read for me in West Yorkshire schools, he always did without hesitation.The children loved him and he was 'a natural success' with them. The staff of the schools he read at also warmed to his pleasing demenour and sense of mischief and the mothers of the children, who assembled with their children in their hundreds during each of his readings for me, simply wanted to wrap him up and take him back home with them; for precisely what, I can only guess!
From all the celebrity readers I have used over the years, he was undoubtedly the most generous, the one with the most infectious smile and a dark horse to boot! He never attended an assembly without bringing with him a ‘goody bag’ for every pupil in the school (known to have exceeded 250 on one occasion).Before I'd met him two or three times, it became very apparent that Richard had a sweet tooth. Like, another departed friend of mine, Norman Wisdom, he also loved his biscuits and whenever he did a school reading for me, I would always make a point of ensuring that they'd be some nice biscuits available for him to partake of in the staff room with a cup of tea.
Despite his capacity to widen any heart with the sheer broadness of his infectious smile, he possessed the reading ability to reduce his audience to tears also. I will never forget the morning he brought first laughter and then tears to a whole school assembly in Ravensthorpe, Dewsbury when he read from my book, ‘Nancy’s Song.’ The only other two readers to bring this about had been Hannah Hauxwell and the late Brian Glover; both of whom had been reading from the same book at the time; ‘Nancy’s Song’.
While Richard would never have perceived himself to have been a handsome man, he always came across in my presence as being very much ‘a lady’s man.’ Every school he ever visited to read for me in was always heavily attended with more mums than they were pupils in the school! I once recall a school in Bradford where the ratio of mums to pupils in the school audience that morning was almost two-to-one. Even Richard or his Countdown side-kick Carol wouldn’t have been able to make that little conundrum ‘add up!’
Whenever I had occasion to look closely at Richard’s smile, I could always discern that glint of mischief and mystery in the corner of his eye. It was that sort of look that actor Hugh Grant gave Bridget Jones in the film ‘Bridget Jones’ Diary;’ that look where the viewer could never figure out if he really wanted a closer union with her or not? In the final analysis, his generosity was boundless, particularly where attractive mums and their children were concerned. He'd give his sweater away to anyone who expressed coldness in the air or even lay his colourful jacket across a muddy puddle to avoid uneccessary splashes spoiling a lady's legs.
When Richard Whiteley died on the 26th June, 2005, I felt that I’d lost a good friend. Along with the late Stan Barstow, the late Geoffrey Smith and actor Christopher Timothy; these four celebrity readers whom I got to know well and would sometimes have a pint with, represented what I call ‘down to earth folk’ who never saw themselves as being better than any other person and who always considered themselves privileged to have been paid for what they liked doing best. Had I to choose three boat buddies to be lost at sea with, it would have been these three old sailors.
Richard Whiteley lived and died a modest man, despite having presented the longest running show on channel four there had ever been (1982 onwards).We both had sons called James and we’d both independently found the very same little hideaway bed and breakfast establishment up in the Lake District near to where the great poet Wordsworth penned his immortal ‘Daffodils’ poem.
On the day that I secured the chat show presenter and television host Michael Parkinson to read for me at Shafton Primary School in Barnsley, I knew that as far as presenters went, I’d probably reached as high as I possibly could. The book of mine he read from was entitled, ‘Tales from the Allotments.’ Being set in a mining community which had been closed down, throwing all its pit workers on the redundant scrap-heap, and having been sponsored by a Barnsley school from where it was being launched, the most obvious first choice of celebrity reader of the book was Michael Parkinson.
Michael Parkinson originated from Barnsley, where he both lived and worked briefly before he found the bright lights down South more appealing and caught the next train down there. During 1995 on the day of the book launch, the staff and pupils of Shafton Primary School were highly delighted to receive their famous guest. Michael performed his reading and then spent almost an hour in the staff room chatting to the staff.
A number of weeks after the event, the Head of the school told me that Michael had been responsible for approaching a wealthy person he knew and of persuading him to donate quite a large amount of money to the school in order to replenish their library stock.
A number of weeks after the event, the Head of the school told me that Michael had been responsible for approaching a wealthy person he knew and of persuading him to donate quite a large amount of money to the school in order to replenish their library stock.
While Michael was undoubtedly ‘a big fish’ to have netted, I must confess to holding mixed feelings after the event. On the more positive side, he undoubtedly had access to innumerable famous people, along with being in possession of ample pieces of showbiz gossip and perhaps a few well-guarded secrets from the world of celebrity.
During our contact, we spoke about our mutual love of football. This was around the time that the late George Best was in line for a liver transplant. Michael told me that he had occasion to meet George a number of times and it was his opinion that George Best would never give up drinking whether or not he had a transplant! Sadly, this prophesy was to turn out accurate in the subsequent passage of time.We both agreed however that at the height of his career, George was streets ahead of every other player on the pitch and was indeed 'simply the best.'
Two things surprised me about Michael Parkinson. First, was the knowledge that he hated being addressed as ‘Parky;’ a name that his personal secretary categorically stated ‘must not be used.’ I was even required to provide advanced assurance that Mr Parkinson would not be addressed as such during his time with me in Barnsley. I was simply amazed that a name which had become a branded bi-product of the man and which had endeared him to a nation of television viewers over the past few decades should be viewed by him with such distaste. If someone gave me his lifestyle, I'd willingly accept the name and the fame that went with it! Given all of the 'parky'weather conditions Barnsley and other Northern towns are used to throughout the winter, one might have thought that Sir Michael may have proven to have been a bit more 'thick skinned.'
My second surprise is no doubt linked to the initial surprise of him disliking the name, ‘Parky.’ During 15 years of contact with hundreds of celebrities and famous-named people, I have invariable found that the poorest among them were often the most generous, the most cultural were the most down to earth, the most aristocratic tended to be the most up-front and honest in their expressions and the most famous were invariably the most humble in public disposition. As the journalist and lately ennobled Dame Ann Lesley once wisely remarked,"Things are invariably much different to what they initially appear to be!" I have found that on occasions, a person's true character can be as difficult to see any more accurately than an optical illusion.
Only one celebrity I came across seemed to fit this mould expounded by Dame Ann and that was Michael Parkinson. It was true that he seemed extremely happy in public to talk about his working-class roots and may even have come across as being proud of them. However, I was left with the clear impression after being in his company for less than half a day that Sir Michael Parkinson's public and private image are largely incongruous. He seemed to me to be someone who would have fitted the type that my deceased mother would have described as a 'working-class snob'; someone' who never looked back on his Barnsley birthright with any sincere sense of pride after he’d left it for the rich counties of the South.
Unlike the celebrities Christopher Timothy and the late Geoffrey Smith, Richard Whiteley and Stan Barstow with whom I frequently shared a pub meal, a pint, a joke and a laugh, Michael Parkinson was not of the same character mould. I could never imagine feeling comfortable sharing such modest surroundings and mutual banter with Michael Parkinson, the undisputed king of chat-time hosts on our television screens for the past 40 years.
Unlike the celebrities Christopher Timothy and the late Geoffrey Smith, Richard Whiteley and Stan Barstow with whom I frequently shared a pub meal, a pint, a joke and a laugh, Michael Parkinson was not of the same character mould. I could never imagine feeling comfortable sharing such modest surroundings and mutual banter with Michael Parkinson, the undisputed king of chat-time hosts on our television screens for the past 40 years.
Why I feel thus towards such an accomplished man from a relatively humble background is a mere mystery to me. The little psychology I possess tells me, it’s because we are ‘opposite’ or too ‘identical’ in personality. I truly hope it is 'opposite!'
Copyright William Forde, May 2012
