Roger Bannister and the missing pages.

This may seem familiar to you but it should become clear. I wrote it as a post about heroes and Memorial Day in America but I just stole some of it from that post, maybe corrected (edited it) added some more thoughts and then got to the reason I used it again – see what you think:

Roger Bannister broke the 4 minute mile barrier in May 1954; I was a little boy watching my friend nearly drown at Moseley Road Swimming Baths and finding out that another friend had died by drowning in one of Birmingham's infamous canals.

I lost a lot of time at school as I suffered from conjunctivitis which developed into ulcers; I remember seeing the horrible white things on the blue of my eyes and I was told that this was because I rubbed them so much but I couldn't help it; the pain and the itching added to my problems facing the light and water would consistently run from my eyes.

That was really the end of my education as I failed the eleven plus - but that's only an excuse as I can clearly remember sitting the examination and looking out of the high windows at school and handing in a blank sheet of paper.

One day the news came on the TV, reporting the first sub 4 minute mile; the race came on and there were only 3 runners in the race that we could see; the other 3 were invisible.

Christopher Brasher was ahead with Bannister just behind, up to about half a mile, and then Chris Chataway took the lead with Bannister close by up to half way around the final lap and then on the final lap Bannister took the lead and made history; to a ten year old boy this was like an orgasm.

Later in the year was the 'Bannister/Landy Miracle mile' and that was the best mile race I have ever seen – do yourself a favour and look for both races on YouTube.

 

John Landy of New Zealand had broken the world record for the mile and then the two of them met in the Empire Games. Have a look - it will bring a tear to your eye and a lump to your throat.

Because of my eye trouble, I had to go a place called Burcot Grange; this was, and still is, a very large house in Bromsgrove, Worcestershire. It is a Victorian building and was donated to the Birmingham Eye Hospital by its owners to give prolonged treatment to children suffering from inflammatory conditions of the eye associated with the 'harsh city life.'

It was also a place where squint operations were performed and a lot of the other children had eyes removed because of inoperable eye injuries. Some of those children would take the patch from their removed eye socket and look in to a looking glass for their lost eye. 

 

One said to me that he could clearly see his missing eye 'in the corner' he said 'can you see it?' - of course I couldn't but I said I could. He had been the victim of a stray dart thrown at him in the vicinity of the renowned Birmingham inner city monstrosity called Saint Martin's Flats.

It was at Burcot Grange that I was introduced to elevenses which was a snack at eleven-o-clock; maybe a biscuit and some orange cordial.

It was like being let loose as there were 5 acres of open grounds; we played cowboys and Indians with real hills, real valleys and real big bushes to hide behind.

The other thing I did was run; I ran and ran every day just like Tom Courtney in The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner; I was going to be a Roger Bannister and I ran around those acres every day.

My mother came to see me every week, with a tear in her eye, and encouraging one in my own infected ones; I cried when she left and then forgot about her for a while when I ran.

One of the nurses was my girl friend; she was nurse Hollingshead and maybe 15 years older than me. She was very kind and wrote to the little boy that was me for quite some time after I left; I was presented with a book by Enid Blyton called, Round the Year. It was a nature book and they wrote in the inside cover to Christopher with lots of love from Burcot Grange. I still have the book which is at my daughter's in Suffolk.

As we sat there in the sun the nurses would 'time' me as I ran around the grounds. I could complete the course in about three minutes; one day one of the nurses, who had timed me, called another nurse and said 'Hey! Is it the four minute mile or the four mile minute.'

I can just imagine the four mile minute!! - 240 mph!!!!

When I eventually returned home I would run around the block and I managed to get a sucker to beat every day. His name was Roger and he looked more like Roger Bannister than I did; I would let him run ahead of me so I could run passed him along the back straight which ended just by the lane where we lived at South View Terrace on Moseley Road.

We would do the Bannister/Landy race which meant he had to look over his shoulder as I overtook him round the other shoulder; when I approached each day I would shout 'now' to make him look one way as I overtook him. Each day the race would take twenty minutes as I would time it from the public clock outside Clements the chemists; maybe more than a mile, I reckon.

That's why Roger Bannister has always been my hero; he ran for many years after that to keep fit although he retired from competitive racing early after the 'Golden Mile' to continue his studies as a doctor; he worked at Northwick Park Hospital as a neurologist and later as Director of the National Hospital for Nervous Diseases in London and a trustee-delegate of St. Mary's Hospital Medical School in Paddington.

A few years ago I bought his book called The Four Minute Mile, of course, and just as I was coming up to the Golden mile on page 224 I found the page was blank. The next page was there and from there till the end of the book many pages were missing.

I called Amazon, where I had bought it, and they referred me to the publishers, The Lyons Press, and when I called them they hung up on me.

A few years ago, I wrote an article about Harold Pinter, which was published by the magazine The Oldie and since then they have sent monthly invitations to their Literary Lunches. When I came back from America I decided to go to some of them and this month one of the guest speakers was none other than Roger Bannister.

I sorted my Bannister book out, the one with the missing pages, and arrived at Simpson's in The Strand with ample time before the lunch.

 

Sir Roger, for that is what he is now, sat behind a table and I was the first one to take a copy of his new book for him to sign. I asked him to make it out to 'Chris' – which he did – and then I told him that I used to play 'Roger Bannister'- “You played me?” he said, as if I'd played him as an actor and I said “No. I would run around our block pretending to be you.”

“When I first started” he said “I would run around the streets and people would shout at me 'Who do you think you are, Sydney Wooderson?' Later, many years after I had retired from running they'd shout 'Who do you think you are, Roger Bannister?”

We both laughed and I found him very tactile, tapping my hand and laughing – then I showed him the book with the missing pages - “I couldn't help that” he said “must have been published by the Australians.”

He signed my book in the missing pages saying 'sorry about this' and when he got up to speak, later, he paid tribute to his wife to whom he had been married for 60 years; he said she didn't know anything about sport, before he met her, and thought he had run four miles in a minute!!