Malcolm Wheatman recalls a 1950s Westmorland Gazette character

ONE of the great characters of the Gazette office’s past was the boss himself, W.V.C. Mayor.

He was a short, dapper man, who always walked with a spring in his step.

When he arrived at Kendal Station on his first day he inquired: where was the Gazette office?

The railway porter said, ‘It’s in Stricklandgate. You can’t miss it - it’s on fire’. And it was.

He was meticulous, and once reprimanded me, a young printer’s reader, for allowing the word ‘barbecue’ to be spelt with a ‘q’.

The small reading department which was in my charge, surprisingly did not have a dictionary and he told me to go out and get one.

I bought a Concise Oxford, whose lengthy erudite entries puzzled some of my composing room colleagues. I was not attached to the newspaper.

Mr Mayor had what was called ‘The gift of the gab’ and once in a dispute he came down to confront the staff, finishing up enthralling us about the shortcomings of the public laundry service who ironed his starched shirt front seams wrongly, making fastening buttons difficult, and we dispersed, bemused, the dispute likely forgotten.

At that time I ran the Saturday cinema at Staveley village hall. Once a year Mr Mayor, who ran a musical production there, had to ask me could he have the hall on that Saturday.

It was in an agreement, so there was no question. Being employer and employee, he did not want to confront me personally (as entrepreneur) but rang me on the departmental telephone for my approval.

Also he was commanding officer of the local Home Guard, whose manoeuvres I learned were typical of Dad’s Army.