September 23rd – A foul afternoon. I popped over to a freind’s house to do some bike spannering, and it was raining hard. Brownhills was hardly photogenic… But passing St. James Church I noticed the lights were on and a service was In progress. St. James is a good example of recovered memory – for most of my adult life I’d have sworn it had a clock, that chimed. I’d have put money on it. It was only after photographing it for an article 2 years ago that I realised it had no such thing. What I’d actually been hearing on still, summer nights was the three faced liar on the old Council House.
There’s a somber memorial in the churchyard to the dead of three conflicts: The first and second world wars, and the Falklands War,where local lad Barry Bullers fell. It’s nice to see the memorial well maintained. These folk paid th ultimate price, and deserve respect. There’s nothing worse than a neglected memorial.
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