245 Jumbo Spencer

First  watched : 9  February  1976

I've  been  waiting  for  this  one  since  I  started  the  blog. Even  more  than  Here  Come  The  Double  Deckers,  this  nearly-forgotten  five  episode series - my  wife  doesn't  remember  it  at  all - had  a  huge  influence  on  the  course  of  my  life  , and  its  ripples  have  stretched  almost  to  the  present  day.

The  series  was  based  on  a  book  by  prolific  children's  author  and  scriptwriter  Helen  Cresswell  who  was  also  responsible  for  Lizzie  Dripping.  The  eponymous  hero  Jumbo  is  the  "ideas  man "  in  his  group  of  friends  and  one  summer  holiday  comes  up  with  the  idea  of   The  Jumbo  Spencer  Reform  Club  who  would  do  things  for the  good  of  the  village, usually without  clearing  it  with  the  relevant  adults  first. In  one  episode  they  made a  zebra  crossing  ( illustrated  above ) with  an  orange  balloon  tied  to  a  pole  for  a  Belisha  beacon. The  episodes  usually  ended  with  the  Club  getting  a  dressing-down  but  they  scored  a  little  triumph  in  the  final  one  by  successfully  kickstarting  a  village  fete  to  celebrate  some  civic  anniversary.

I  think  you  were  supposed  to  laugh  at  Jumbo's  precocity  , his  over-vaulting  ambition  and  attempts  to  mobilise  adults  into  helping  on  his  pet  projects  but  I  didn't  see  it  that  way.  I  immediately  identified  with  Jumbo's  need  for  recognition  and  suddenly  just  "playing  out"  wasn't  enough  for  me. We  needed  to  "do  things".  For  most  people  who  were  around  at  the  time , the  summer  of  1976  is  remembered  for its  glorious  length  but  for  me  it  will  always  be  the  summer  of  "the  efforts"  when  I  was  continually  suggesting, cajoling, demanding  that  we  ( whoever  was  around  on  Hollingworth  Road, Littleborough  at  the  time )  do  something  that  would  make  a  bit  of  money  or  simply  direct  some  attention  my  way.

My  mum  had  inconveniently   forgotten  to  put  a  diary  in  my  Christmas  stocking  in  1975  but  I  still  have  the  precious  piece  of   A4  paper  on  which ,  towards  the  end  of  the  year,  I  retrospectively  listed  the  "efforts"  and  who  else  was  involved  in  them. I've  not  included myself   perhaps  to  disguise  the  fact  that  I've  listed  one  or  two  that  I  had  no  involvement  in  , those  being  the  brainchild  of  bossy  Carol  Warburton  down  the  road  who  may  not  even  have  seen  Jumbo  Spencer. The  first  half  dozen  on  the  list  actually  pre-date  the  programme ,  at  least  two  of   which  were  Bob-A-Job   ventures  for  the  cub  scouts.

Apart  from  the  jumble  sales, most  of  them  never  got  much  past  the  drawing  board ,  lasting  only  until  the  lads  decided  they'd  prefer  to  play  football  instead. Some  were  no  more  than  a  single  evening's  diversion; I  think  effort  number  14  the  Bogie  Service  was  just  offering  rides  on  an  improvised  go-kart - the  kids  next  door  had  a  granddad  who  was  a  wizard  with  wood  and  nails. There  were  a  couple  of  plays, fired  by  my  involvement  in  school  drama , which  never  got  beyond  a  few  rehearsals  and  the  Littleborough  Historic  Society  which  involved  knocking  on  the  door  of  an  old  couple, the  Holroyds ,  and  asking  them  to  tell  us  something  interesting. It's  nice  to  record  that  they  actually  did; in  those  more  innocent  times  they  invited  half  a  dozen  neighbourhood  kids  into  their  front  room  and  explained  the  traces  of  the  old  mines  behind  our  homes.  One  or  two  efforts  listed  are  now  irretrievable  ; I've  no  idea  what  "The  Tough  Family "  or  "Social  Reformers"  were  all  about   but  it  can't  have  been  anything  very  substantial.

My  mum  inadvertently  helped  by  deciding  that  the  back  garden  was  a  mess  ( it  certainly  was )  and  banning  us  from  playing  on  the  lawn  while  she  restored  it ; gardening  became  her  main  leisure  interest  for  the  rest  of  her  life. Once  she'd  got  things  in  order  it  featured  in  the  craziest  of  my  schemes  , the  Zoo  and  Botanical  Gardens. For  a  number  of  weekends  I'd  plonk  my  kiddies  blackboard  on  the  wide  section  of  pavement  near  The  Railway  pub and,  with  the  aid  of   that  and  a  few  handwritten  flyers,  try  to  persuade  people  walking  up  the  road  to  Hollingworth  Lake  that  they  should  divert,  first  to  look  at  the  Hursts'  rabbits  and  then  come  up  to  our  house  to  look  at  a  couple  of  goldfish, some  pond  life  collected  from  the  canal  and  my  mum's  efforts  in  the  garden. I  think  I  reasoned  that  we  could  expand the  collection  if  we  charged  10p  to  visitors.  Of  course  my  mum  and  gran  tried  in  vain  to  persuade  me  the  whole  idea  was  bonkers  but  I  wouldn't  be  told. I  don't  think  we  had  a  single  visitor.

 The  scheme  eventually  mutated  into  the  slightly  more  sensible  idea  of  a  museum,  diverting  my  energies  into  collecting  exhibits , one  of  which  was  a  small  piece  of  masonry  from  St  Mary's  Abbey  in  York, a  regular  day-trip  destination  for  me  and  my  dad. Before  English  Heritage  subpoena  me  I  should  say  that   I  picked  it  up  off  the  ground, I  didn't  take  a  chisel  to  the  ancient  monument  and  I  did  eventually  return  it  in  1997  ( on  our  honeymoon  actually )  after  two  decades  of   it   sitting  on  top  of  my  bookcase.

At  the  end  of  that  summer  I   started  at  secondary  school  and  the  impetus  was  lost   but  wanted   a  marker  for  posterity  so  I  wrote  to  the  local  paper,  The  Rochdale  Observer  about  what  we'd  been  doing . This  involved   a   considerable  amount  of  what  two  decades  on  would  be  called  "spin" . I  included  Carol's  bookstall , a  genuine  success  which  they'd  already  covered  earlier  in  the  year , and  a  rock  musical  based  on  Status  Quo  songs  for  which  not  a  word  of  script  had  been  committed  to  paper  though  I  contrived  to  give  the  impression  a  performance  had  taken  place. Worst  of  all  I  wanted  to  include  The  Adventurous  Club  ( see  the  post  on  Here  Come  The  Double  Deckers  )  which  had  had  no  altruistic  angle  at  all so  I  invented  a  complete  fiction  that  we'd  stopped  some  boys  from  vandalising  an  old  house. The  paper  accepted  what  I  wrote  without  question  and  sent  a  photographer  round  ;  I  managed  to  round  up  about  8  of  the   other  kids  for  the  shoot. I'm  sure  I've  kept  a  copy  of  the  article  somewhere; if  I  find  it  I'll  scan  it  in.  When  the  article  appeared  some of  the  other  kids  protested  at  the  deceptions  but  didn't  contact  the  paper. As  a  history  graduate  who  values  truth  it's  been  on  my  conscience  ever  since   and  I'm  glad  of  this  opportunity  to  set  the  record  straight.

That's  not  the  end  of  the  story  though. At  the  start  of   1977  a  poster  appeared  in  a  local  shop  from  Littleborough  Community  Association  asking  for  help  and  ideas  in  co-ordinating  the  celebration  of  the  Queen's  Silver  Jubilee  in  Littleborough. Without  hesitation  I  wrote  to  one  of  the co-ordinators  listed  offering  our  services  as  experienced  organisers  and  she  and  her  husband  came  to  see  me  one  evening  though  my  mum  wisely  sat  in  on  the  chat.  Around  the  same  time  I  joined  Littleborough  Civic  Trust  because  it  ran  fortnightly  walks  on  a  Sunday  afternoon  which would  help  me  prepare  for  a  school  youth  hostelling  holiday . On  an  epochal  train  trip  to  Hebden  Bridge  organised  by  them  in  March  1977  I  realised  firstly  that  the  Civic  Trust  and  the  Community  Association  were  largely  the  same  people  and  secondly  that  the  door  was  open  to  get  involved  in  civic  affairs  for  real  through  these  organisations.

Then  I  got  in  the  paper  again. Just  a  fortnight  later  I  noticed  on  my way  home  from  school  that  the  river  Roch  was  flowing  bright  green  from  somebody  dumping  God  knows  what  in  it  further  up  the  valley. As  luck  would  have  it  I  saw  Keith  Parry  from  the  Civic  Trust  who I  recognised  from  the  train  trip  and  drew  his  attention  to  it. Keith  was  an  interesting  character . He  was  a  former  boyfriend  of  my  mum's  though  now  widely  believed  to  be  gay. He  had  worked  in  London  as  a  journalist  and  broadcasted  semi-regularly  on  Radio Manchester  which  made  him  a    minor  celebrity  locally  . He  also  had  some  modest  local  business  interests  which  never  fully  developed  because  he  was  too  much  of a  gadfly. He  was  an  erudite  and  reasonably  talented  man  but  self-regarding and  given  to  intemperate  outbursts  especially  in  writing. Anyhow  he  had  the  ear  of  the  local  press  and  so  I was  in  the  Rochdale  Observer   again  as  the  boy who  reported  the  river  running  green. I  started  attending  the  Civic  Trust's  monthly  meetings  where  I  was  feted  and  also  its  spin-off  group  the  Littleborough  Local  Historical  Society.

I  can't  give  a  full  account  of  all  my  activities  in  these  organisations; it  would  take  too  long  and  not  be  very  interesting  to  people  unfamiliar  with  the  town. The  important  thing  is  that   it  started  to   influence  my  thoughts  on  politics  and  my  future  career. I'd  go  to  the  meetings  and  regularly  hear  diatribes   from  Keith  and  the  others  against  the  local  council,  particularly  the  planners  when  decisions  went  the  wrong  way  from  the  Civic  Trust's  preservationist  view  and  the  Highways  Dept  who  didn't  seem  anxious  to  take  action when  farmers  obstructed  local  footpaths. The  fact  that  Littleborough  was , since  1974 ,  only  a  constituent  part  of   the  borough  of  Rochdale  which  usually   voted   a  different  way  to the  rest, seemed  an  important part  of   the  problem. I  decided  that  I   should   get  a  job  with  the  council  and  change  them  from  within. That's  laudable  enough  but  what  I  wasn't  really  appreciating  was  that  the  Civic  Trust  was  only   dealing  with  a  small  part  of  an  organisation  that  had  many  facets  nor  when  it  came  to  choosing  my  optional  subjects  at  school  ( and  then  university )  did  I  pick  ones  that  were  particularly  suitable  for  a  career  in  planning  or  highways.

Nevertheless  working  for  a  local  authority  remained  my  aim  after  graduating  in  1986   and  I  fired  applications  off  for  any  post  anywhere  that  advertised  for  graduates  of  any  discipline. The  ones  that  attracted  me  most  were  trainee  committee  clerks  since  they  seemed  to  be  at  the  heart  of  decision-making. However  that  made  them  the  most  highly-prized. I  got  an  interview  at  Hereford  and  Worcester  Council  where  they  had  200  applicants. By  contrast  the  trainee  accountant  posts  were  much  less  fiercely  contested  and in  January 1987, by  virtue  of  being  the  only  candidate  who'd  heard  of  the  forthcoming  poll  tax, I ended  up  in  that  role  at  Tameside  Council.

Though  above  average  in  the subject,  I  never  enjoyed  maths  at  school  and  never  saw  myself  as  an  accountant  but  this  was  the  first  opportunity  of  a  salary  and  I  reasoned  that  once  through the  doors  they  would  soon  recognise  that  my  talents  were  better  employed  elsewhere  in  the  authority. That  never  happened  and  I  stayed  in  public  sector  finance  for  the  next  quarter  of  a  century  until   2012. Long  before  then, 1997  in  fact,  I  had  got  married  and left  Littleborough  and  in  truth  I  had  become  pretty  disillusioned  with  the  Civic  Trust   a  few  years  before  that. I  turned  down  an  offer  of  the  chairmanship  in  1994  and  was  only  going to  the  committee  meetings  for  the  drink  with  my  friends  Lincoln  and Joe  ( both  now  deceased  sadly )  afterwards. I  kept  my  subscription  up   until  they  stopped  putting  out  a  newsletter  last  year.  I  rang  up  and  cancelled  and  not  long  afterwards  Joe, the  last  committee  member  from  my  time,  passed  away. As    I've  never  had  the  slightest  intention  of  getting  involved  in  the  civic  affairs  of  the  town  in  which  I  now  reside,  that  was  the  last  trace  of  Jumbo  Spencer's  influence  being   wiped  away.

Unfortunately  Helen  Creswell  is  no  longer  around  to  read  this  and  know  how  much  she  influenced  my  life, having  passed  away  in  2005. Mark Weavers  who  played  Jumbo  has  long  since  slipped  into  obscurity  with  the  series  being  the last  thing  to  his name. In  fact  the  only  names  in  the  cast  I  recognise  are  the Anglo-Australian  actor  James  Smilie  ( who  was  in  Prisoner  Cell  Block  H  and  Return To Eden )  who  played  Jumbo's   dad   and,  more  surprisingly,  John  O  Farrell  as  one of  the  village  kids  who  were  hostile  to  the  Club's  endeavours  ( like  Hodges  to  Jumbo's  Mainwaring ) . It  turns  out it  is  the  Labour-supporting  comic  writer  and  novelist. I've  read  quite  a  lot  of  his  stuff  and don't  recall  him ever mentioning  that  he  was  in  this.