Worst Story-Lines - The 1960s: The Collapse of No 7...

The fall of No 7's frontage on the studio built exterior set of 1965. The front door's shifted quite a long way from the front window, hasn't it? I suppose the other houses must have shuffled along to make room.

Well, we've done the 1980s (Rita's amnesia) and the 1970s (the lorry crash) so now we turn to the 1960s. What was our worst and daftest story-line of that illustrious first decade of Coronation Street? Well, as with the '70s and '80s, there were several contenders, but we had to plump for the collapse of the frontage of No 7 in 1965.

Why on earth did this happen? Oh sure, it made for a bit of short-term drama, especially because Lucille Hewitt was thought to have been in there at the time (she wasn't), but afterwards it left the Street with one house less, and a gap in the terrace which exposed the ridiculously scaled-down size of the other houses.

A single bench filled the entire space.

When Len Fairclough bought the site in 1981 and set about building a new No 7, a witty reader wrote to a national newspaper:

The only people who could live in there would be Marti Caine and the Thin Man!

But other things troubled us. Why didn't the collapse destabilise the adjacent houses at all? And if we'd been Val Barlow, we'd certainly not have been happy continuing to live next door at No 9 with the baby twins, Peter and Susan. No amount of calm reassurance and technical twaddle about 'faulty main beams' from surveyors would have convinced us of the safety of the houses in that street after the fall of the No 7 frontage.

The collapse was very convenient too. After all, Harry and Concepta had left for Ireland with baby Christopher the year before. The house hadn't been empty long enough for it to collapse through neglect but, it was the only unoccupied house in the Street. How convenient to ditch it. Chuck in concern about Lucille possibly being in there for a bit of drama and Bob's your uncle!

Naff.

Coronation Street - My Favourite Characters Of The 1960s, 1970s and 1980s... Number 20: Mr Swindley

'Oh, Mr Swindley! Is it going to go off?'

Here we go, chuck, I'm now going to bore you all rigid with my own personal countdown of the characters I think made Corrie shine especially bright in its first three decades. Together with a few glances at missed opportunities - minor characters I thought could have been built up into major ones!

This will be my own personal Top Twenty of my fave Street folk from way back then (one or two who are still around!) and I hope you enjoy it. I do me best here to make things entertaining. You can ask anybody. Ask Ida Clough.

Here we go then, Number 20 is... Leonard Swindley - played by Arthur Lowe in the early-to-mid 1960s.

Mr Swindley ran his Rosamund Street 'emporium' - a small haberdashery shop - with the devoted Miss Emily Nugent - who merged her baby linen business with his.

Mr Swindley was a lay preacher and held great sway at the Glad Tidings Mission Hall in Coronation Street, but not with its resident caretaker, Mrs Ena Sharples, who once described him as 'a puffed up little fish in a dirty little pond'!

She were lovely, our Mrs Sharples.

But, to be honest, Mr Swindley was, basically, a pompous windbag who meant well.

When his business was taken over by a chain called Gamma Garments, Mr S was immediately in awe of his new boss - Mr Papagopolous. This terrifying vision of 1960s capitalism was always kept off-screen (rather like Arthur Daley's 'Er Indoors' years later), but his telephone calls and threatened visits to his Rosamund Street branch were enough to send Mr Swindley - and, indeed, Miss Nugent - into a severe attack of the screaming 'abdabs.

Apart from Miss Nugent, Mr Swindley found his staff - namely Miss Doreen Lostock, of the Corner Shop flat in Coronation Street, a great disappointment. On one occasion, when Mr S called 'Forward one' to summon a member of his staff to assist with a customer, Miss Lostock actually asked: 'What number am I, then?'

Well, I ask you!

Poor old Leonard - jilted by his beloved Miss Nugent, terrorised by the sinisterly-unseen Mr Papagopolous, spun out of the Street and into a couple of spin-offs - and actor Arthur Lowe into even greater fame in Dad's Army.

Fab indeed.

'Whatever does that mean, Miss Nugent?'

'I've really no idea, Mr Swindley…'

Tom Mennard - The Secret Life Of Sam Tindall...

Phyllis (Jill Summers) and Sam (Tom Mennard). The great Percy Sugden Formation Dancers debacle of 1987.

Tom Mennard stepped into Coronation Street as Sam Tindall in 1985 - preparing for a local bowling tournament. He quickly became a suitor for that Weatherfield femme fatale Phyllis Pearce - but, sadly, she didn't really reckon 'im. He lacked the drive and persona of a certain Mr Sugden. Of course, our Phyllis weren't above using Sam to try and arouse a bit of jealousy in old Percy. Bowls? Formation dancing? She was that desperate she'd have tried anything. But it was all to no avail.

Never mind. Sam did try to sell his dog Dougal's services to Terry Duckworth and Curly Watts as a ratter in 1985, and in the same year he was happy to win Percy Sugden's Christmas pudding in a raffle - until Alf Roberts sat on it.

Phyllis's heart belonged to Percy - although he didn't want it.

Sam was a 'permanent occasional' character in Coronation Street from September 1985 to May 1989. He arrived unheralded as a customer at Jim's Café, and left the same way.

The triangle - Percy, Sam and Phyllis. Well, to be truthful, it wasn't that much of a triangle because old Perce couldn't stick Phyllis. But she lived in hope. Phyllis's hair looks particularly nice in this pic, we think. She was living proof that Punks didn't come up with the coloured hair theme. Pensioners had been doing it for donkey's years.

Sam was quite fun, and - sometimes carrying his dog Dougal in a bag - was a distinctive sight around the Street, although, like Phyllis, he never actually lived there.

I enjoyed Sam. Not the most fascinating of characters, but quite a gentle one, well played by the actor. Characters like that were an asset to the Street back then.

But I was already a huge fan of Tom Mennard before his Street debut and felt that his talents were rather underused on the show.

Picture it... the early 1980s... a scruffy young ratbag in a dreadful 'lad's cave' bedroom is twiddling his radio knob in despair. In those days, Radio 1 with John Peel in the evenings played 'music' that sounded like a tin bath falling down a flight of concrete steps. The scruffy young ratbag usually listened to Radio Luxemburg instead, but the reception was lousy and on this particular night he was desperately seeking something half decent he could actually hear when he happened upon the dulcet tones of Tom Mennard, talking about his mates at a pub called the Goat and Compasses and the dreadful affect fresh air could have on a body when it left a pub. You see, it wasn't alcohol at all...

I (AKA the scruffy young ratbag) listened - at first bemused and then amused.

I later discovered I  was listening to a series called Tom Mennard Tells Local Tales on BBC Radio 2. Radio 2?! Yuck, wouldn't usually give it house room, but I was going through a touch of the love life traumas at the time (don't get me started) and was in the mood to be soothed by a bit of comforting older generation daftness.

I liked what I heard.

Local Tales began in March 1981, and ran for a few years - ending sometime in the mid-to-late decade. Each tale only lasted about twelve minutes, but, although I preferred the blossoming alternative comedy scene, there was no denying Tom's ability to spin a good yarn and I was captivated.

The Radio Times synopsis for 12 March 1981 read:

Tom Mennard

Tells Local Tales

Welcome to Tom's world. The scene is the ' Goat and Compasses ', the cast - Tom, Harry , Charlie and Fred. The stories, well, they're just Local Tales. Order yourself a pint, sit down and listen. Written by TOM MENNARD Producer MIKE CRAIG BBC Manchester

The set-up was Tom doing a spot of stand-up, weaving tales of himself and his pals. There was nothing trendy or ground-breaking about it. Radio 2 was a station for fogies (it plays 1980s music these days and I listen to it regularly, so it obviously isn't for fogies anymore), but I'd always been partial to old fogey tales. Tom wrote it all himself and I think he was a bit of a genius.

Whether white-washing the local sewers or watching a male stripper on a coach outing to Blackpool, Tom, sounding like a rather more animated Sam Tindall, made me smile. Lots.

It was all beautifully droll and charmingly naïve. When hearing that the wife of a bloke in the local pub was having an affair, Tom assumed that the reason for the bloke's distress was because she'd got expensive caterers in.

Well, you would, wouldn't you?

Tom, born in Beeston, Leeds, had once been a bus driver in Brighton. He began writing scripts for local amateur village hall-style shows and in the mid-1950s began a career as an entertainer in music hall, radio and television. Through this, he first met Jill Summers and Bill Waddington - later, of course, his Street co-stars.

Tom became a seasoned stand-up comedian, appearing at venues such as the Windmill Theatre and on such telly shows as The Good Old Days with patter akin to the Local Tales. The idea of expanding the patter into a whole series of radio shows was inspired.

While The Good Old Days was shamelessly nostalgia-based, the Local Tales landed Tom and his pals squarely in the 1980s, with mentions of the Unions, unemployment and government cutbacks.

Tom had quite a lot to do with BBC radio in the 1980s. In 1980 and 1981 he starred in a Radio 4 series called Wrinkles - set in an old folks' home and written by Rob Grant and Doug Naylor - who gave us the sublime Red Dwarf on TV in 1988. I didn't hear Wrinkles at the time, but I have heard several episodes since. It's fab - probably a bit ahead of its time - with distinctly surreal touches. Tom starred as the caretaker at the home. It's highly recommended. Superlative in fact (you'll get the reference if you have a listen).

Tom also had acting roles in other TV shows apart from the Street - including Dad's Army, All Creatures Great and Small and Open All Hours.

Jim's Café, 1985. Sam and Phyllis talk hotpot.

Bowls were a serious business in 1980s Weatherfield.

Tom's own rare Lhasa Apso miniature dog, Dougal, played the Dougal of bag fame in the show. Tom also kept hamsters, tropical fish and caged birds, including zebra finches, a cockatiel, canaries and a wydah bird.

Dougal even had his own bank account and fan club. Lucky lad. I wonder if he had Mr Dog for dinner?

The character of Sam Tindall was simply designed as a component of the Phyllis/Percy scenario. He was a pawn in lovelorn Phyllis's game really - her desire to win Percy's affections was so great she'd stop at nothing. The occasional Street appearances suited Tom, who was then living in Dorset. But I think he could have brought a lot of fun to a larger role, particularly if the production team had revealed the Goat and Compasses to be Sam's usual local when not pursuing Phyllis - thus revealing a hidden and hilarious life for Sam. With a bit of tweaking, Tom's tales would have fitted beautifully into the Street setting.

Tom died in November 1989. Back On The Street remembers him fondly.

The Mark Brittain Warehouse Fire Of October 1975 - An Anniversary Celebration? No. Just Examine The Newspaper Archives.

The end of the Mark Brittain Warehouse. The fire engines dwarfed the miniature terrace back then and the production team tried their best to disguise the fact. Edna Gee, wife of Fred-Face, worked at the Warehouse with Ivy Tilsley - whose husband was then called Jack.

Rebecca has written to us!

I've been surprised to read on the Coronation Street Wiki that the fire at the Mark Brittain warehouse in 1975, in which Edna Gee died, was intended as a celebration of the show's 15th anniversary. I didn't hear that at the time and soaps didn't usually celebrate with disasters back then. Is it true? And if so, why was it in early October, two months before the anniversary?

It wasn't true, Rebecca. We remember the Street's fifteenth anniversary very well and it was not linked to that. Indeed, as you say, it was two months in the past by then. After all, roasting somebody alive would not have pleased viewers as an anniversary celebration in those days. In fact, I think it would have seemed bizarre and grotesque. Nowadays, folks would adore it. The story seems to have to come from ex-archivist Daran Little, who was a little lad back then. He probably just made a throw-away comment and you know how today's netty types run with these things.

After all, if it was so - and disasters were really 'in' for anniversaries back then, think of the disasters they could have had for their 20th and 25th and 30th anniversaries.

You will find no publicity from 1975 verifying the claim - just examine the newspaper archives (it was pointed out, however, that the Street was low in the ratings and could 'do with some kind of boost'), and the more than two month gap makes the claim an absurdity. Soaps didn't 'celebrate' with disasters back then.

'Liverpool Echo', 1 October, 1975.

Having said that, we've a lot of time for Daran Little. Even if he does make the odd cock-up. His East Street thingie with Gail making her mark on the EastEnders café is a true delight. For that reason alone, we'd walk over hot coals for the lad. Probably.