Quite a few years ago, Scrobs was about eleven years of age (You're telling me - Ed).
I was living at home with my family, and was everywhere in the village when it suited me and my friends - making camps in the woods, biking for miles, making rafts etc., like all the things that kids used to do back then, and we were all proud of the scars as well!
One day, I was wandering around near the crossroads of the village, having been somewhere or other, and spied a rather odd contraption, which can only be described as a sort of bicycle with a long, low cabin in tow. It was silver, had a few portholes, and was being driven by a chap who seemed alright, having a friendly smile, no aggression, and also a small puppy inside the tiny caravan, chewing on a Bonio biscuit!
Being nosy, and also more than curious, I spent a few minutes chatting with the chap, and learned that he was just a bit of a traveller - not a gypsy, just an eccentric loner, who liked riding this contraption around the country, getting a little notice here and there from kind people, and offering absolutely no threat to anyone at all!
Back then the village was always looking out for children, old people etc, and even the local shop keeper noticed me chatting to this chap, without any concern, because that was the way it was!
So, after a few minutes, and me even noticing that his bike had a three-speed gear change - a rarity that I craved for, but understood that towing this machine would need some 'oomph', he explained that he just went here and there and everywhere, annoying nobody, and minding his own business! I felt absolutely no threat whatsoever!
As he moved on, he politely asked if we could spare him 'a few spuds' etc, and I dashed off home to collect these! Mum was a bit perturbed, but even then, villagers looked out for each other, and the chap thanked me and went on his way! I never learned his name!
Some time afterwards, dad called me through to the TV, where he'd seen an article on the same chap, somewhere miles away, and we all marvelled at what he was up to, and the 'fame' he was getting, purely by riding this unusal bike around! I was pleased to know that somehow we'd helped him a bit, and all was well, although my mum said once, that I shouldn't really talk to strangers, as he might have, 'asked me if I wanted a ride in the thing'... I can see her telling me that now!
Time passed, quite a lot of it actually, and because I spent many hours as a lad reading 'The Eagle' comic, promoted by the superb Rev Marcus Morris - I had relished in the Dan Dare stories, the real investigations on the back pages, etc, and, now, purely by accident a year or so ago, found that every issue was now available for a few pence on a CDRom!
Well, of course, I had to get these precious disks, and began to trawl through them to see if I could remember anything from all those years ago! I then forgot them entirely...
Just today, the envelope with the several CDs emerged in an old pile of papers, and after a bit of research, I eventually got them to work! That comic was such a great adventure back then! It was the only one allowed by my Headmaster, because the others weren't good enough for budding scientists and brain surgeons, and they really did have an impact on this young soul!
Looking through the issue of January 1958, (when I was revving up to fail my eleven plus, I lost a year in hospital - not worth relating, but it mattered a bit), I found the Letters Page, and blow me down with a copy of 'The Eagle', there was a letter, from a chap who'd noticed my 'friend' near Bognor Regis - a good couple of hours away!
Here's the letter he wrote: -
