Alone The Fred Dibnah Story

It's going! Going!

HE SOUNDS HORN

CLAPS AND CHEERS

Done for!

Did you like that?

Abandoned by his wife and daughters,

Fred Dibnah, the Bolton steeplejack, passed the long and lonely evenings

in his newly completed steam workshop.

I'm managing all right.

The cooking's a bit of a mess, cos you've gotta stop what you're doing for to go and cook dinner.

It takes a long time! I'm used to just racing in and getting at it.

I did my first trip to... Met this divorced fellow, young chap.

He'd only been married for two years and it happened to him.

He took me to the supermarket.

Shoving the trolley, I felt a right berk. I've never done owt like that.

The thing is, it's very peaceful.

We've got rid of the bloody pop music... And, you know, you've time to think.

Before, all these young fellows coming round after the daughters. The bloody parlour...

I couldn't even sit in my own chair.

Broke the bloody castors off the chaise longue.

Six of 'em sat on it. Big lads, all six foot tall.

All of them have gone,

so it'll give me a chance to lick the place into shape.

I've sanded the floor in the new extension,

so tonight's job'll be putting the sealer on...

and all... You know, like I say,

now I can play my Joseph Strauss records, or waltzes. I like them.

MUSIC: A Strauss Waltz

Now came a new development.

The spectacle of a man swinging alone, uncared-for and unsupervised,

proved too painful for some ladies. Fred found himself under pursuit.

I had one letter from a lady in London

who said she'd come up and look after me,

and one of her greatest wishes was...

to look at my steam engine!

One or two magic phone calls,

some of 'em sounding unbelievable.

"I just thought I'd give you a ring

"because I'm feeling a bit low at the present moment."

My answer were, "I am an' all, love!"

I'm going to treat all of this with a great deal of, er, caution.

I know who I could fix you up with, Fred.

O-one of your staff, like?

-Yup. Are you interested?

-What's she like?

-Good looking lady.

-Would she like old iron and...?

-I'm sure she would.

-Oh aye, yes. She's been on her own a long time, now. No commitments.

-Mm.

-Come down, I'll fix you up!

-Mm...

-Hm... Come to where you've got it stacked away, like.

-Come to my shop.

She works mornings. Call in for fags.

I've never DONE anything like this for a long time.

It's very nerve-racking, sort of.

-Very nice, she is.

-She might not fancy an old bugger like me!

-You'll have to find out, won't you?

-Only one way, eh? Give it a whirl.

-How old is she, like?

-Well, Fred, she's never told me her age, but...

-I think it'll suit you.

-Not too young for an old boy like me?

-No!

It'll be OK!

What's she interested in, like?

-She goes old-time dancing.

-Oh, I'm not into that, mate.

-Well...

-She has to find SOME interest. She has to go somewhere.

-Oh, yeah, yeah.

-She's got her own house, no commitments.

-Mm. Hmm...

She's not looking for somebody...

-to get MARRIED to. But...the ball's in your court.

-Mm.

-..eh?

Y'know, like... I-I don't really KNOW. In my present situation, you know, I...

I don't even know if I want one round here. It's a bit difficult.

You know. I think a bit of time going by will be better for me.

-All I'm doing is INTRODUCING someone to go out with.

-Mm.

-You know.

-Well...

Perhaps wash your clothes, make breakfast, generally look after you.

-That's all I'm doing, Fred.

-I know, yeah. But you know...

I-It's a bit difficult. I'm still a bit... I'm MANAGING OK on my own...

-Well, call in and see me, anyway.

-Mm.

-Not just the lady.

-I'll think about it.

-Bit difficult for me, at present.

-I MIGHT see the lady and mention it.

Er... You'd get on very well with her, so...

I'll mention it, OK, Fred? Call in.

I'll bear it in mind, think about it.

If I WERE looking for a new wife or a new lady,

she'd have to be interested in antiques and steam engines, and beautiful things.

Right, Fred!

As well as liking the world of Queen Victoria,

she'd have to be able to answer the telephone, and be a bit diplomatic

with people who ring me up wanting me to do unbelievable things I don't want to do.

Or have enough sense to suss the nutcases out from the genuine ones,

get it all written down on paper.

Somebody who can write(!)

I like nice dresses,

preferably the ones that fit. I suppose I'm a bit kinky, really...

Black nylons and high-heel shoes, and all that sort of thing.

I think black nylons and high heels enhance a lady's legs, looks nice.

Half the tackle Alison had, I picked it!

The majority of her best frocks were black 'uns.

Fired by such visions, Fred pressed on

fitting out the matrimonial bedroom of the extension he'd built in happier times,

knowing that though plenty of candidates may be eager to share it,

few, if any, would be likely to meet the specification for the lady of his dreams.

Women THEN, when that painting were done around 1870,

they started at six o'clock in t'morning.

They all lived within 200 yards of the bloody place.

They went home for breakfast! A half hour, back to work. My mother did. She worked in a bleach works.

It didn't do 'em any harm. She reached 80!

THEY knew about working, in them places.

England led the world then.

Everybody were nose to the grindstone.

Tackle were all "handraulic". The mangle job.

Now there's more time for looking beautiful than ever, isn't there?

Because of all the modern tackle.

Washing machines, dishwashers, fancy cookers, microwaves,

even record machines you don't have to get off your bum for to make go.

None of this winding it up, like THEY did.

There's this equal rights thing now, ain't there?

Never get any of 'em down t'pits or at t'top of a factory chimney, do you? No way!

But they want...you know, half of everything.

Difficult... Mm.

Fred was not to be tempted.

He prudently stayed aloof from these concerns

and kept his mind on his work.

A bit loose, this!

I don't think it'll fall off.

It feels pretty solid up the middle, whatever it's rocking about on.

-Look at that.

-Is just one joint loose?

-Hm?

-I can't hear you for the traffic.

-Is it just one joint that's loose?

Yeah. You'd never believe it, would you?

It's no wonder they were worried about it. What do you reckon, then?

-We'll have to do something.

-Staging?

Look, there's another one like that.

Lightning conductor fell off as well.

You can see straight through it. Daylight! I can see the train.

-The remedy is a load of ironwork lapped round it.

-It'll hold it?

-Oh, aye. It'll hold it together. With cast-iron corners.

-How thick?

Inch-diameter iron rods, and cast-iron pieces on t'corners,

so those eight corners can't spread out.

It'll be right, then. They'd hold a pack of dominoes together.

How long d'you think the bars will last?

Put it this way, me and thee won't be around! Even without painting,

-they'll last that long.

-What's the cost?

About two grand. It seems a lot, but there's a lot of engineering,

and every side's a different size!

Them who built it weren't so good with t'ruler, you see.

-And it'll be right, after...?

-Aye. It's got that bottom part by the whatsits. It won't move.

The thing is to get a grip of it before it gets a grip of you.

At £2,000 it's... It wants some finding, first of all.

-I'm trying to think...

-We'll have to put a project up for it.

-Yeah.

See if they can... Have a raffle(!)

Oof!

HE PUFFS

Yeah, if every day were like today it'd be beautiful, this job.

It's not so pleasant when the wind's bloody howling

and paint's blowing off t'brush, on to your specs(!)

You think, "Why did I start this job?

"God forbid, another 17 years of this... Pay off the mortgage."

I were nearly ready for retiring(!) Not RETIRING,

I'll never retire. I'll die doing summat, like.

But having life a lot easier than it has been over the last 17 years.

And now I've got another 17 years of it(!)

I'm getting old, and it's a young man's job.

-There's not a lot we can do with that.

-What sort of a job is it?

-What?

-A lengthy job?

-Not really.

-Oh!

What worries me is what's behind. How the masonry is.

I mean, here there's a great crack I can shove my fingers in.

'Looking round churches is quite nice and peaceful.

'At least you're doing summat that has a fair chance of surviving.

'They don't knock 'em ALL down.

'I think these Victorians who made their money out of spinning mills

'were paving their way to heaven when they built these in the 1870s.

'They'd had the skin off the backs of the lads

'and, "We'll build a nice church"!

'The blokes who built this particular church must've had a helluva battle.

'It's made out of local flagrock, terrible to chop, hard as iron!'

It's not like it were when we first come!

You can't swing it about, now.

It were rocking about three inches each way.

It looks like you've made a solid job.

-All the spire's pointed and all. Won't rain in no more.

-It'll be here another couple of hundred year?

-A couple of hundred years?

-Easy!

Good!

There's no way it's gonna fall down no more. Be there when we're all dead!

CHURCH BELL CLANGS

We came the other day to see the bell

and the "skyline" in the cemetery had changed. God! You know...

About 24 gravestones couped over

and smashed to pieces.

That's about £10,000 of damage.

What sort of people are these,

who can shove over these that've stood over 100 years,

just smash 'em to pieces? They're evidently more than children,

for to shove a stone over like that.

In the stages of early manhood.

They're either out of work and very unhappy,

and have a grudge against society as we...DID know it,

all nice and peaceful and proper.

They want to disrupt everything

that they can bloody lay their hands on that's disruptable.

Why have we gone like this now? Things were REALLY bad in the 1930s.

People were actually HUNGRY. These people aren't hungry with no bloody shoes.

And yet them fellows in 1930, they didn't do it, did they?

-Sort of, it...

-I

-don't know!

THEY lived in a world full of bloody fear!

They knew if they did the wrong thing it'd be trouble.

And NOW they've no fear of anything.

I think we've definitely gone too bloody soft.

"Poor little Johnny couldn't help it, he's under stress", this that and t'other.

Bloody ayatollah...you pinch a loaf THERE, bang! The whole finger off.

If they did some of that here, things might be straighter.

Isle of Man, the vandalism there, when they had the birch - it's only what I've read in papers -

were practically non-existent. Now, the wonderful bloody Common Market job...

They can't DO it no more because the Common Market says so.

It'll never get any better till they fire 'em into line.

National Service, summat like that.

There's ALL these arguments against it,

but the people who argue never come up with a solution, do they? Never!

It just goes steadily worse day by day.

What can you do? There's a lot to be said for the olden days, I say,

and how they did things.

They were better craftsmen. Better at everything, really.

They had more respect for property, and things of that nature.

NOW they have no respect for nothing.

All as they want is a life o' bloody pleasure! Um...

Difficult.

Nothing was cheering Fred up.

And he'd now taken on a felling job as dangerous as any he'd ever tackled.

This is an unusual subject, this tower.

I've only ever done one. It didn't quite go right, but I learned a lot.

I think I'll have this one right.

We'll undermine half the tower, below the staircase and everything,

and prop it up like we do chimneys,

then set fire to it. If we calculate it right, it's gotta fall over.

There's no man can say "This is gonna go exactly..."

Those fellows who send t'bloody rockets off to t'moon and space,

look how many clangers THEY have,

and they're clever fellows.

It's some sort of feeling!

Somehow this tower, it'll be right. It'll be a good 'un.

THE POSTS RESONATE...

LIKE BIG BEN

Xylophone!

Hm. There's a fair bit of weight on them, now. They're bent.

A few hundred tons squeezing on them, now.

And all these stairs, all t'way up for seven floors!

Apart from this bit here.

Some of that'll have to come out.

Go on!

AN INDISTINCT SHOUT

Eh?

-I can't hear you.

-..As near as I can get 'em.

It'll do there. Tip them up.

When we're ready I'll give you the word and we'll get 'em all out.

That way, is it?

No. I think what'll happen, it'll go over and disintegrate. HOPEFULLY.

Dunno, really. Last 'un I did were a clanger. It didn't work very well.

All right, kids. Stick it in.

It's all "Hey lads, hey!" with the tyres now. Like a bomb site.

There's two critical props round the corner Needs a good fire there.

On top of here, cock.

Oh, it'll be reet, I think! We've only done one, and it went wrong.

But I think I learned a lot with that one. We're down on tyres.

We could do with some for the inside and we haven't got any.

So it looks like a pot luck job!

It could all burn away and the thing stay up!

But somehow, with the weight that's on the props, I don't think so.

There's a lot of tons just on the OUTSIDE.

What there is of woodwork inside won't keep the bugger up.

It'll pull it OFF them sticks inside.

Now, then! You're gonna ENJOY this.

All as I want you to do is light the fire, you see.

I'm very superstitious, I don't like doing it myself. I'll show you.

As soon as it's going you can toodle off to a safe place.

We'll get rid of the crowd, and we're away.

Keep your fingers crossed and pray.

Got it this time. Right.

Come on. Round this corner.

Don't fall down there.

There you are. Stick it in there.

That's it. You've done it... That'll do.

Now round t'corner that way. Mind your haircut(!)

In here, love. Hey, whoa! In there. Yeah.

And there...and there.

It's going, eh!

We've got the bonfire going now!

No, you're all right, love. You can move over there.

EXCITED CHATTER

Have a good cough, now, Deb(!) >

FIRE CRACKLES

FIRE ROARS

EMERGENCY SERVICES SIREN

TWO SIRENS

Some daft bugger must've rung them up!

LOUD CRACKS >

Hey! Outside, come on!

-Go on, outside!

-What?

-Outside!

-Hey! Hop it!

-Go on! Scat!

Where's he going, that one?

FIRE ROARS LOUDLY

TIMBERS GROAN

Thing is, the corner's cracked all t'way across, down there.

It's that bloody central stairwell that's holding it up.

I can see a BIG crack there. Can you see?

On the corner there, see. Look.

You see that crack growing?

There's summat going now!

I think it's time we should retire.

What's holding the bloody thing UP?

Look at 'em, they're bent!

A big crack in the wrong place.

I'm going for a look round the other side.

I can't see proper for t'smoke.

Daft bloody pillar in t'middle. There's ONLY that corner holding it up.

Oh, we have it!

It's going.

Hooray!

LAUGHTER AND APPLAUSE

KLAXON

THEY LAUGH

It's no more.

There you are. The end of another one.

Yeah. Hmm...

To the pub(!)

Hm.

Did you like that?

I think, next 'un, we'll make the gap a bit bigger.

There...an 'ole in my pocket.

Make the gap bigger. Did you see how them props went?

Shorter and shorter. They were bent. It's worrying.

I think next time, about two foot six instead of 18 inches or so.

-D'you never feel twitchy?

-Always do.

It'd be a brave man who could tackle one of them with a box of matches and not worry(!)

It's in a bloody big heap now, ain't it? Right, well...

-DOG BARKS

-To the pub. Want a brick?

THEY LAUGH

Subtitles by E Kane BBC Scotland - 1996