On Sunday 11th August 1968, I walked down to New
Brighton station with Ian, Grah’ and John and took the Mersey underground
electric train to Liverpool Central, this being before the link to Lime Street
station had been made.
We walked into Lime Street station. It was chocker. We
debated how best to get close to the action. Should it be platform six or
platforms seven and eight? I think the train was in six, so we thought if we
could get to the end of the longer seven, we might get a better view looking
back.
The few policemen around already looked harassed and
overwhelmed. They could not have been expecting such a large crowd. I tried to
take a picture from a permanent ladder fixed to a signal. I was told to get
down and my place was taken straight away by someone else. I had already become
separated from the others and I hadn’t a clue where they were.
I tried to manoeuvre my way back through the throng to the
platform edge, to get an uninterrupted shot of Stanier Class 5 No. 45110. I was
shoved in the chest by a policeman. It really took me by surprise. I fell
backwards into the crowd. I felt quite hurt, though not physically. That had
never happened to me before - incurring the wrath of the law in such a personal
way. I had a very strong sense of right and wrong as a youngster, and I
remember feeling very puzzled and unjustly treated.
I gave up trying to get a good view. I just stood where I
had ended up in the middle of the crowd. As the train left I tried to poke my
camera between kids sitting on their dads’ shoulders and a lot of people who
were taller than me.
That was it. We made our way home.
[Based on an extract from my book, Train Spotters]
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