Page 7 - The Spirit of Christmas 1940

The Spirit of Christmas 1940

for him or tell him how much of a hero he was. That was not
Mr Crispin at all. But for now, he was the station Christmas tree
decorator. At least it would give him an hour or two not thinking
about the relentless bombing runs from those damn planes.

Apart from the Christmas tree, there were very few other
decorations reminding people of the forthcoming celebrations.
Maybe the only other reminders were the Holly wreaths on Rose’s
flower cart. Mr Crispin had a little soft spot for the young Rose.
She was always so cheerful and friendly. She always made him
feel that happiness could always be found at Church Street. His
thoughts were interrupted by the sharp whistling of the arrival
of the 5:30am postal train. Ah well, the decorations would have
to wait. He walked over to the platform to meet the guard as he
stepped off the train.

The quietness and peace of the station was disturbed not only
by the mail train but also the arrival of Jimmy Deacon, the station
newspaper vendor. A cheeky east-end lad cursed with an over
active sense of humour, and far too much confidence for his own
good. He had been selling the Daily Herald in exactly the same
spot since leaving school. Not much of a career but he could
always make up for his low wages by a few under the table deals
from his many east end contacts. Everybody knew that his goods
originated ‘off the back of a lorry’ but nobody questioned it. Even
the local police turned a blind eye as they knew he wouldn’t
overcharge people and he could often be a blessing at this time
of strict rationing. In fact, a visit by the police to the station was
normally just an excuse for them to grab a bargain from Jimmy
when nobody was watching. Besides there was never any point in
questioning Jimmy about the origin of his stock as he had the gift
of the gab and could talk his way out of anything so to save time,
energy and an awful lot of wasted paperwork, they just turned a
blind eye as long as he didn’t go too far.

Within ten minutes, his newspaper stand was set up and his
daily act began. “Read all abaht it, Joe Louis wins heavyweight
title. Get yer ‘erald ‘ere” The headlines would be screamed out
over and over the next few hours enticing passengers to part with