In memory of John Robinson

When I was a girl of 17 (a while ago now!) I went out with a guy called John who worked here. He was a good deal older than me (twice my age in fact), very sweet, gentle, kind. My mum was naturally concerned, not for the reasons you'd think ~ she was worried not because of his age (or mine) but because he was 'alternative'. To her, 'alternative' meant I was likely to be persuaded over to the dark side, join the Moonies or some other such cult (she did actually say that to me!). She thought I was 'impressionable', easily led. She couldn't have been more wrong... if anything my childhood has impressed upon me to observe my world carefully, thoughtfully, from a distance.

He took me to a private showing of The Life of Brian once, a film which, back then, was banned from being screened in all major cinemas. He lent me money in the interval to phone a neighbour to get a message to Mum telling her the film had started late and therefore would finish late so I'd miss the last bus home, to tell her not to worry ~ he was going to pay for a taxi home for me when it finished. Which he did. I arrived home safely to prove her fears unfounded!

He was a nice guy, John. When I moved away we kept in touch for years, still have a book he sent my daughter on her very first birthday (28 years ago!), but over time we drifted apart, as people do. Years later I went into the Granary to enquire of his whereabouts, thought it might be good to catch up. His business partner and close friend still worked there at that time so I thought if anyone would know, he would. I was informed he'd died some years earlier of a brain tumour.

Every time I walk past this building (virtually every day) I'm reminded of him.... funny how some people live on in your mind long after they're gone. And no, I've never belonged to any sect, cult, group, religion or following. I remain my own person. My Mum need have no fear.