Stuck 100ft up a ladder

No, says fire brigade historian Brett Clayton, despite the large amount of smoke in the picture, the fire was caused by a tar boiler that was being used to make the roof watertight.

Brett was more interested in the fire appliance in the picture – a 1960 Leyland Firemaster 100ft Magirus Turntable Ladder with the numberplate 999 MHN. It was in service until 1983 and is now in the hands of a private enthusiast in the area.

Brett remembers an encounter with the turntable ladder at about the time the picture was taken when he was a trainee firefighter. One day, the more experienced men had completed their drills with the ladder, so the whippersnapper asked if he could have a go to the top.

“The ladder man had to stand on a small platform at the top of the ladder and be hooked on, then the ladder was extended to its full 100ft height extension and rotated through 360 degrees,” says Brett.

He was successfully elevated to the top of the ladder and enjoyed his view over the top of Darlington. Then he was ready to come down.

To lower the ladder, it had to be extended slightly so that the locking pawls that held the sections together became disengaged.

“After five minutes of going up a little and back down a little, I thought my colleagues were playing tricks on the new recruit – but when they came out with their tea and toast, I began to realise it was not a prank,” he says.

Over the intercom, they informed him that the pawls were not disengaging so the ladder could not be lowered. He was stuck.

“And I had to stay on the platform as the ladder was only held up by the cables; if I walked down, the ladder might move and chop off my toes!”

There were two options to rescue Brett: call another 100ft turntable ladder down from Durham, or have a go with Darlington’s Simon Snorkel hydraulic platform – which only reached 85ft.

“They went for option two,” says Brett. “They extended it to its full height and then reached up from the top of the platform and tied the sections of my ladder together to prevent them moving. Then I had to climb down to the level of the platform.

“When I got there, I had to step across into its cage.

“After about an hour in extreme cold, with my hands blue because I didn’t have any gloves, I was extremely glad to get back to terra firma – and I learned not to volunteer again.”

A valuable lesson for any trainee.

SEVERAL people have remarked about how much they enjoyed our first History Class feature in Memories 261 about Eastbourne School in Darlington. But many of them had a “but”…

Eastbourne School opened on September 28, 1936, and was originally two separate schools – boys and girls. But that was where the buts came in, because we said the two schools amalgamated in 1957.

“It was nice to read about my old school,” said John Ogilvie. “l was a pupil there from 1962 to 1966, but the boys and girls schools were still segregated when I left.”

Colin Johnson said: “I started my career at the Eastbourne boys secondary in September 1959 when George Welford was head of the boys, and the girls school was separate next door. I think they combined in 1967 when the town went comprehensive.”

Which seems to be correct.

NANCY MARLEY clearly went to a good school as she rang to say: “I think you’ve got the apostrophe in the wrong place in Johnny Best’s Beck.”

What we thought was called Johnny Best’s Beck is the beck that runs along the deep valley between Redworth and Shildon. It was mentioned in Memories 261 as the top of the hill on the Shildon side was known as “Tittybottle Bank”.

“As children in Shildon, we always referred to Johnny Bests’ Beck, and there were people in the Shildon area who had the surname Bests,” says Nancy.

So rather than asking why the beck at the foot of Tittybottle Bank was Johnny’s best beck, and what made it his favourite, we should have been asking who was Johnny Bests and why does he have a beck named after him. Does anyone have any answers?

TERRY THOMPSON emails to say how much the recent stories about the bid to save the Empire cinema in Crook have brought memories of her childhood.

“My dad, John Brown, was cinema manager at the Empire in the 1950s, maybe into the early 1960s,” she says. “He also had worked at the “top” pictures (the Hippodrome) where he met my mam.

“I remember the kids’ Saturday morning matinees as I was, along with a couple of friends, allowed to sit upstairs while all the other kids were downstairs – it was the nearest I ever got to feeling like royalty!”

THERE is some unfinished business from Memories 257 concerning the November 1962 of cars parked at the rear of Darlington’s Central Hall. The picture printed rather darkly, but, nevertheless, several people had valiant stabs at identifying the vehicles, notably Gordon Dolby of Darlington, John Biggs of Etherley, and Peter Daniels of Bishop Auckland.

There were four vehicles parked with their grilles facing the cameraman. On the far left was probably a Humber Hawk. Then, moving to the right, came a Jaguar Mk 2, as driven by Inspector Morse, which is next to a Jaguar Mk 7. Beneath the No Entry sign was an Austin A50 Cambridge.

By common consent, parked on Houndgate was a late 1940s Ford Prefect.

“It had a three-speed gearbox, velour lining to the interior, leatherette seats and hanging loops of cord between the rear door and rear side window so that passengers could hold tight when cornering!” says Peter Daniels. “The windscreen wipers worked off the manifold on a 'vacuum' system that meant they worked faster when one took one's foot off the accelerator, but they scarcely moved when going uphillI.

“I owned one in the 1960s.”

WHILE we are on the subject of cars, we were a little surprised that only John Lambard offered an identification of the nippy-looking number pictured in Saddler Street, Durham, in May 1960. Perhaps the photo got lost in the Christmas rush, which is a shame because it is a splendid picture. It features one of our favourite buildings – Saddlers coffee bar and bistro with its fancy timberwork and Victorian shopfront. We’d love to know its story, if anyone can tell us.

Anyhow, opposite it, almost outside the Shakespeare is the rear of what John suggests is a Triumph TR-something – either a TR2 or a TR3.

“Whichever, it is a fair way from its registered home,” says John. “The DP on its numberplate is for Reading.”

As ever, other identifications are most welcome.

ANOTHER snippet that has been fascinating us is this picture of Danby Wiske station that Mrs E Smith of Northallerton has kindly sent in, as she lived there from 1936 to 1950.

Danby Wiske is between Northallerton and Darlington and from 1884 to 1958 it had its own station on the East Coast Main Line. The station was situated a few hundred yards outside the village on the east side of the line. Today, the railway cottages on the west side of the line remain, but the station has gone.

It must have been a curious little halt in the middle of nowhere. Who can tell us about it – why would the Victorians have placed a station beside a lane in this corner of North Yorkshire?