Peter Barron pays a touching tribute to Robin Blair

LIKE the fresh fruit and veg on his beloved market stall, Robin Blair was full of goodness.

The loveliest, warmest man, with snowy white hair, rosy cheeks, twinkling eyes, and a welcoming smile, his passing leaves a huge hole in the heart of Darlington.

He will be remembered as the evergreen, friendly face of Darlington – a cornerstone of the community – and it’s impossible to imagine the town centre without him.

Like the clock tower that stands proudly over High Row, the affable greengrocer, who spent a lifetime on his family’s greengrocer stall, was synonymous with the grand old market town.

During more than four decades of covering Darlington as a journalist, I came to trust Robin as a barometer of what was happening in the town; what local people were talking about; which way the wind was blowing.

He was someone I Ioved to write about because he was so open and passionate about Darlington. He didn't suffer fools – especially when it came to the market – but he only wanted what was best for the town.

Robin Blair's stall on Tuesday when the market was closed as a mark of respect (Image: Peter Barron)

“They’re missing a trick – this place should have been Darlington’s jewel in the crown. We could have been the Covent Garden of the North with a bit more imagination," he told me as he reflected on the decline in the number of traditional stalls in the market hall.

Tributes have poured in since his unexpected death on Monday. The town's MP, Lola McEvoy, described him as “an institution” while a steady stream of admirers simply wanted to say how they'd been touched by the "gentleman" of Darlington’s Victorian covered market.

Robin had a claim to be the country’s longest-serving market trader, having made his first appearance on the family’s fruit and veg stall in his cot, before earning a shilling for his first paid shift when he was five.

The stall had been founded more than 150 years ago by his grandfather, Jack Blair, with Robin and his brother, Keith, following their father, John Joseph, in taking the business forward. 

Keith, who died in 2013, focused on the horticultural nursery in Barmpton Lane, while Robin was the hard-working face of the market, spending more time there than he did at home.

A year before Keith’s death, Robin had been presented with the British Empire Medal in recognition of his passionate campaigning for traditional markets. 

He was joined at the ceremony by his wife, Alwyn, daughter Alyson, and grandchildren, Louise and Jamie.

“It’s all a bit posh for me, but it's good for the market,” he told me at the time.

In 2009, he was honoured as Citizen of the Year at the Best of Darlington Awards ceremony. I compered that event and told the audience I could vouch for the quality of Robin’s magnificent satsumas.

The next day, a huge box of satsumas arrived at my office with a note, saying: “Hope you enjoy them! Best wishes, Robin.” 

It was the beginning of a long-running joke between us. After that, I couldn’t pass his stall without a big bag of satsumas being thrust at me.

In 2016, it was a joy to spend a day with Robin, writing a live blog about life behind the scenes as a market trader. We started at 5am, driving to Middlesbrough in Robin’s trusty van to select the best fruit and veg from a market garden.

On the way back, we called at the Barmpton Lane nursery to collect an assortment of fresh flowers and plants, before heading to Darlington market to start the day's trading. 

Robin even allowed me to try my hand selling fruit and veg on his stall. Charitably, he awarded my performance a five out of ten.

 One of Robin's most loyal customers was Joan Lawrence, the mother of York chef, Claudia Lawrence, who went missing in 2009.

Joan remembers being taken to the market as a child by her mother to buy fruit and veg. Now nearly 83, and living in North Yorkshire, Joan called in at Robin's stall whenever she returned to her hometown to visit friends.

"It's the end of an era for Darlington," said Joan. 

"I've been one of Robin's customers for more than 70 years and the town just won't be the same without seeing his smile.

"It was his friendly welcome that I loved most. You didn't feel like a customer, he made you feel like a friend, and he had the best Royal Gala apples money could buy.

"He had a bond with the town and his customers. He always wanted to know if there was any news about Claudia, and I knew I'd get a big hug. Robin Blair was very, very special."

On Tuesday, the day after his death, Darlington's Victorian market hall was closed as a mark of respect for its best-loved trader.

A well-meant touch but I can't help thinking Robin would have railed against the idea of closing his precious market even for a day.

Robin Blair's empty chair at Darlington market (Image: Peter Barron)

"It's all about fresh, quality produce and maintaining friendly customer service," he insisted when I spent the day finding out more about his wholesome way of life.

Thoughts must soon turn to how his unforgettable contribution will be remembered in Darlington town centre.

For now, rest in peace, Robin – and thanks for all the satsumas.