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David Charters

Reg Flewin

WHEN all footballers looked old, smiling from those vividly coloured cigarette cards which now fetch fancy prices, he was the captain and defensive stalwart of the finest team in the land. Read

Lord Burlison

HE WAS the embodiment of those times when the steam from meat and potato pies cleared the nasal passages of the men on the football terraces, who would walk back through the factory gates on Monday mornings, trusting that their union negotiators would secure them decent working conditions. Read

Stan Winston

HE SHUDDERED at the sight of blood, but the young puppeteer with the mountainous imagination loved monsters. Read

Cyd Charisse

ON HEARING of her death, an old Liverpudlian rubbed his chin and the memories came back. Read

Derek Tapscott

HIS family was almost big enough to be a small tribe. In such circumstances, you learn to accept what you are given. Read

Harry Jurgensen

SOME would have said, in the nicest possible way, that there was a hint of Jack-the-lad in the blue-eyed smile of the wee man, who knew how to charm the ladies. Read

David Charters: There is so little time between nursery rhymes and rock and roll

THE soldier stood tall and he stood proud – his sword glistened and his moustache bristled, his legs stout and his shield defiant. Read

Sharing the lives of a bygone world

Sharing the lives of a bygone world

IN an old gin box bought by chance, a sculptor found photographs, letters, poems and diaries telling of a family’s rise in Liverpool. David Charters reports Read

Campbell Burnap

THERE was a hint of Scottish ancestry in the name of this chap, who became a prince among those roaring boys unleashed from the war to stomp, blow melodies, kiss and drink in the cellars of a free land. Read

Bruce Purchase

HE PLAYED with the greats and was great himself, the barrel-chested figure with the oft-sprouting whiskers, who knew applause in Liverpool, and passed an audition in front of the imperious gaze of Laurence Olivier – then gaining a mass audience when he was cast as the pirate captain of a spaceship, which went around destroying mineral-rich planets. Read

George Poynton

THE Union Jack hangs at half-mast over the war memorial on the village green as a tribute to the Korean veteran, whose good looks the whispering girls once likened to those of Dirk Bogarde, the movie star. Read

Jonathan Routh

HE BELONGED to the long and noble tradition of brilliant Britons who didn’t take life seriously, except, perhaps, in their desire to see those who did take life seriously appear ridiculous. Read

Romee Hindle who has published a book about her childhood in a Japanese PoW camp

Born in Paradise but raised in Hell

A WIRRAL woman’s childhood in a Japanese PoW camp is told in newly-published diaries. David Charters reports Read

Pat Regan

YOU could hardly imagine a more bitter irony. The woman, who had campaigned so bravely against violence on our streets, died at her home from multiple stab wounds. Read

David Charters: And there was Perseus, son of Zeus, in combat with Medusa

IT WAS the end of our week’s holiday – a warm, brooding Sunday afternoon. The rain fell greyly from a sad sky, as I sank deeper and deeper into the armchair at the corner of the lounge, slipping into a heavy doze, dominated by thoughts of what had just been and what would be. Read

George Standen

WAR and the weapons of war featured greatly in his life, but the man, who would be called the “father of British nuclear submarines”, was kind and considerate – the possessor of high principles and straight words, delivered with a little smile, which arose from a dry but keen sense of humour. Read

Liverpool and Shanghai united in dreams of greatness

THE miles vanish when a great conversationalist speaks of his love for Liverpool’s twin city of Shanghai. David Charters reports Read

Bo Diddley

HE WASN’T a man for the daylight. In fact, you wondered if, behind the cool shades, or the down-tilting brim of his hat, those dark eyes had ever seen the sun. Read

Mike Scott

HE BELONGED to the noble line of TV presenters who had the charm and style to turn a speech impediment into an advantage. Read

David Charters: When going to the Cavern Club one had to make careful preparations to look cool

I WAS never a regular “Cave-dweller” myself. That was the name given by the pale compere, with the pout and punning ways, to the boys and girls with dark armpits and cigarette breath, who stepped into the crush of the old fruit cellar. Read

Author Profile

Award-winning feature writer and columnist David Charters is a highly-respected journalist and author whose hugely-popular weekly column is now available in print and podcast format. Tel: 0151 4722427

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