Margaret And Wallflowers

The Beach 1887
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Margaret and wallflowers
The year was 1950. I was thirteen years 'old' and walking along this beach with Margaret, her brother John and my brother, Peter. When we arrived at the spot where the man is sitting in the photograph, I looked up and saw wallflowers growing on the cliff face.
I decided to climb up and pick some for Margaret. When I became level with the flowers, about fourteen feet above the beach, (it seemed much higher), I held on with my left hand and picked a few with my right.
As locals will know the rock here is very loose and crumbly, and the piece I was holding onto came away in my hand. I remember looking at it and beginning the slow motion fall.
I landed on my back, with a particularly large rock under my lower back. I was unable to move, rock and wallflowers still in my hands.
My brother, aged eight, was frightened for me and ran all the way home, to 21 Beach Road West, to tell our parents. He got no reply at the front door, (they were in the back garden), so ran all the way back to the scene.
I was in pain but enjoying the caring ministrations from Margaret. What can we do? A little panic was beginning to creep in when a young couple strolled along towards us.
He was a big chap, black, which was quite unusual in 1950. He tested me for damage, picked me up and carried me home, followed by his girlfriend and my companions.
It was quite a shock for my Mother. I'm not sure which shock was greater, her accident prone injured son or the fact that my rescuer was black!
Dr. Pardoe was called and diagnosed a severely bruised pelvis. "Stay in bed and rest for three days".
Word travelled fast in Portishead in 1950, and a school friend, Dennis, heard that Anthony Warren had fallen down a cliff.
He told the school, St Brendan's College, Clifton, and they assumed I was dead. So at assembly that morning they all prayed for 'The repose of the soul of Anthony Warren who tragically died on Sunday'.
Fortunately, every part of me was 'reposing'.
I went back to school on the Thursday, and was very surprised at the reception I received. " You're supposed to be dead!" was the most common and I did feel a bit of a fraud, being responsible for a wasted prayer form six hundred or so.
I'll bet Dennis was even more embarasssed.