ALAN PARKER
I see from the paper this morning that my old friend Alan Parker is dead. Commiserations to Winnie, Eric and the family. I can't do anything to mend your loss but I thought some of you might like to read about Alan and what a lovely bloke he was.
I met Alan and became his workmate when we were both at West Marton Dairies driving tankers delivering bulk milk to bottling dairies anywhere between Sanquar in Scotland to Ashby de la Zouch in the south. It was a clean job but hard work as we had to deliver on time to our destination no matter what the weather or how early we had to get up, we were off down the road any time after midnight. You soon get to know a man if you are working with him and Alan was the perfect workmate. It didn't seem to matter what happened, he never lost his temper, in fact he was more likely to make a joke of it and just get on with the job.
Bear in mind that this was over fifty years ago and we didn't have the creature comforts that modern drivers enjoy. In addition, in those early days we had wagons which were old even then. We tended to stick to our own tankers and Alan always took what we nick-named the 'Old Albino'. This was a 1930's Albion with the old four cylinder engine, lousy brakes, no heater and a cab like a hen hut. Its maximum speed was 32mph flat out and to make matters worse it had an old glass-lined tank which was a devil to keep clean enough for milk. Despite all this, Alan liked his old motor. He said that once you got used to it the lack of speed was no disadvantage, you just got up an hour earlier! I well remember taking the Albion out one morning when Alan was poorly and I think I did about a mile before I puzzled out the trick of getting it into top gear! The linkage to the gearbox was so worn that if you hadn't cracked it you went from third gear into reverse. I mentioned this to Alan the following day and he grinned at me with his wry smile and said “It's a bit of a challenge isn't it!” I also mentioned the fact that the brakes were just about non-existent and his reply was “You just have to drive accordingly”. He told me that the only time he had nearly got into trouble was early one morning when he was approaching Steeton level crossing and the gates closed when he was about 100 yards away. He said he thought it was headlines for him but managed to stop within a foot of the gates.
Even Alan's patience was taxed sometimes. Due to a mix up with delivery notes he once turned up at the Co-operative Dairy at Hull only to be told he should have been at Nottingham! Alan just got back into the cab and trammed off down the road. Remember, this was at 32mph! Another time some bright spark failed to realise that when they put “Express Upton” on the delivery notes, we automatically assumed this was Upton on the Wirral. Nobody told us that Express had bought another dairy at Upton near Doncaster. You've guessed it, Alan got to Upton on the Wirral dead on time only to be told he had to be in Doncaster.
One day Wallace Neave, who ran the dairy garage, decided it was time we had a rigid draw-bar for use on breakdowns. Rather than go to Jimmy Thompson the village blacksmith, he decided he'd do the welding himself. Alan and I were loitering about waiting for our tankers to be filled for the following morning and we stood there watching Wallace getting into trouble with the oxy-acetylene welding gear, to be honest, he hadn't much idea. Typical of Alan, he never said anything but of course I couldn't keep quiet so I said to Wallace “Why don't you let our tame blacksmith have a go?” He didn't know Alan had served his time as a smith. I got a dirty look from Wallace but he handed over the torch to Alan and after fitting a bigger nozzle and making a few adjustments Alan set to and made a lovely job of a couple of very heavy welds. Funny thing is we never used the draw-bar, once it was made we had no breakdowns!
Once filled up for the following morning we took the tankers home with us so we were ready for an early start. On a normal day we were back in Barlick by dinnertime and I often popped into the Green Street with Alan for a Guinness. From there I went home but Alan liked his pint and his horses so he'd often while away the odd hour picking his horses and placing bets at Tommy Fitton's just over the road. No matter how long he stayed there he was never the worse for wear the following morning, he used his head.
In about 1965 we got a brand new Thames Trader chassis and it was fitted with the stainless steel tank from an old Seddon we had. Alan took it because the tank was easier to keep clean even though it had two compartments. The Albino was relegated to odd jobs and as soon as the 1968 Road Traffic Act came in specifying mandatory braking efficiency it was scrapped because the handbrake was better than the foot-brake! It just goes to show how good and steady a driver he was.
I could go on for a couple of more pages about Alan. He was a perfect workmate and we never had a wrong word. If you needed any help, all you had to do was ask and he was in there with you. He was a good worker, always did his job well and never shirked if there was more to be done. I loved him and will miss him.
It's no good, I have one last story for you. At one time Alan shared a house on Ellis Street and one night when he came home he found his wardrobe had been slashed by his house mate. He told me about it as if it was a big joke and showed me a cab full of what looked like rags. One of the items was a brand new Moorland's sheepskin coat. It looked such a shame I asked him if I could have it and try to rescue it. Vera and I spent hours sowing the slashes together and one day I happened to be on the town wearing it when I ran into Alan. He looked at me, a broad grin split his face and he said “What did the other bloke look like?” A good man.
The old Albino in retirement at West Marton.
