How unusual!

[Stan Thomas]

I saw something this morning which I've not seen since a small boy - a genuine "gentleman of the road" - a tramp!

He came ambling very very slowly through the village, unkempt, with straggly hair and beard, and with a massive pack on his back - and although he may have been an ecentric millionaire - given the chances being less than him being less fortunate than myself, I gave him some money to help him on his way.

To my great supprise, he spoke with a soft, distinguished and intellegent accent, leaving me to ponder what fortunes dictate our destiny through life, for are not the most important people in this world those less fortunate than ourselves?

[Sydsmith]

As you say Stan a true gentleman of the road, in my childhood we had a similar character who trolled the roads and byways round the area I lived on the outskirts of Hereford city. We always called him Mokey Isles, not at all sure where that name came from or even if it was his proper name. He fitted your description too a tee and despite the very unkind way we kids treated him, he never once bit back at us. Often regret the treatment we gave him. Syd

[Simon Hyslop]

There used to be, in Glasgow in the 1980s, a well known organist who was ex ****'s College Cambridge, a brilliant player. He carried the possessions he required for maybe several days around with him in plastic bags and one night late on, while returning from playing somewhere, was banged up against a wall by the boys in blue who thought they had apprehended a vagrant with long hair and a generally unkempt appearance. It was only when he was able to speak and his well educated voice said something like "I say, you fellows, what's the matter here?" that they realised they had nicked the wrong person.

One Monday morning, I had been playing for the morning service in the University Chapel and as I was leaving the place a well dressed fellow stopped me and asked if I'd been playing the organ, to which I had to answer Yes. He said "Jolly nice to see someone well dressed for the job (I always had a tie with me as a student) as my daughter was married here on Saturday and I think the organist had on a T shirt and a pair of shorts under a gown".

You can guess who the player had been, for that would have been his regular attire, and I thought about how the father had dwelt, not on the quality and ability of the player, but on the outward appearance. The lesson can be equally applied to purchasing old cars which have had a lick of paint and a quick tart up !

[John-B]

When I was a lad in 1940s we lived on the edge of Bristol next to the countryside (now heavily built up with Cotswold Dale housing estates) and there was an old army camp a few miles away where those without work could get a bed, called "A Reception Centre". We often had men (never women) walking past on their way there. My mother used to give them something if they called in, but usually they didn't. I imagine most were on hard times after the war, but true tramps who lived off the land were extremely rare near us although I did see one or two further into the countryside, always on their own.

This one turned up outside my gate recently in the village scarecrow competition

It was after the VE Day celebrations and he must have had a drink or two.

We also had gypsy visitors selling wooden clothes pegs, posy charms and other basic household items in the 1940s.

Life is much the same now, unfortunately, as we often get young lads selling household items and they have a card from some government organisation. I have far more dishcloths than I want!

[Stan Thomas]

About fifty years ago, there was a tramp who toured the villages around Oxforshire with two donkeys and a little three-wheeled caravan, and he would put on shows for the kiddies for a few pennies. Painted on the side of his caravan it read "Abel's Animal Antics".

When some thugs stole his megre savings all the local villagers had a collection and then someone found him a place to live in. He died in hospital (where they found him a special "corner" in the ward given he had spent the latter part of his life as a "loner") following a heart attack 1982.

Somehow, life had a different meaning back in those days.

[John-B]

When I was at school we used to see one of two charcoal burners who lived the whole time in Leigh Woods. One or other walked an old bicycle with a bag of charcoal on it past the school on the way to wherever they sold it. I was told that they sold it to an artists shop in Whiteladies Road.
They were pitch black with charcoal on face, hands, clothes and boots and so was the old bike and so was the bag. Quite an incredible sight. They obviously never washed or changed their clothes.