Beckindale Meets The Real World - 1980s Pop Culture In Emmerdale Farm...

Beckindale was not immune to 1980s pop culture. The show took some of the fads from that fast-moving decade and provided us with some on-screen fun. In 1981, a Space Invaders machine was delivered to The Woolpack. Of course, it was all a mistake. Amos Brearly looked down his nose at such new fangled abominations - far more up Ernie Shuttleworth's street. The Invaders had been invented in Japan in 1978, previewed at a UK trade show in 1979 and then invaded the early 1980s, becoming one of the decade's first major fads.

Mr Wilks and Amos waited for the game machine company to pick up the Space Invaders machine and deliver it to the rightful address. Before this could happen, Mr Wilks was disturbed in the early hours of one morning by high tech noises emanating from the living room. He went downstairs...

To find Amos, he who (apparently) looked down on modern technological fads, absolutely glued to the machine...

... valiantly fighting a losing battle.

This article is from the Cambridge Evening News, 1981, and proves just how topical Emmerdale Farm was being by including Space Invaders in its story lines.

More about Space Invaders here.

In 1982, Sam Pearson became seriously ill with pneumonia. Recovering in hospital, he met a young fellow patient called David, who introduced Sam to the Rubik's Cube. Sam had a go and then dismissed it as too "new fangled" for him.

The Magic Cube had been invented by Hungarian Erno Rubik in 1974 and the first test batches released to Budapest toy shops in late 1977. In 1980, the Cube was re-manufactured, renamed Rubik's Cube and released in the Western World. The first Rubik's Cubes reached England just before Christmas 1980, although the country was not fully stocked until the spring of 1981 as there was a worldwide shortage.

The pictured article from The Sun, May 1982, shows that people were doing the Cube everywhere, and that Emmerdale Farm was once more absolutely on the button when it came to pop culture!

More about the Cube here.

Carl Rigg As Richard Anstey

Helen writes:

I recall Carl Rigg in the old soap General Hospital! Very interested to read on this site that he was in Emmerdale!

Yes, Richard Anstey managed NY Estates for a brief spell whilst Maurice Westrop (Edward Dentith) was away in early 1980. He returned later in the year when Maurice went to manage NY's holding in Wales.

Richard became friendly with Joe Sugden (Frazer Hines), and offered him the farm manager's post at the NY Beckindale holding in late 1980.

NY Estates policy sometimes created headaches. Richard did not relish clashes with the villagers over destroying an old hedgerow or creating a new area of conifer tree forest, but was well able to fulfill his role in Beckindale.

Richard was finally told to leave by NY boss Christopher Meadows (Conrad Phillips) in 1981, after it was discovered that he was having an affair with the regional manager's wife, Virginia Lattimore (Wanda Moore). Unrepentant Richard, who, it emerged, had courted controversy in the boardrooms of NY in the past, could not believe that Joe hadn't intentionally helped to bring about his downfall.

He left, talking of going abroad to work.

1981 and 1982: The Death Of Enoch Tolly And Its Aftermath...

Enoch Tolly (Neil McCarthy) was very much a man of the '80s. The 1880s, that is. As Jack Sugden (Clive Hornby) commented in early 1981, Enoch simply did not seem at home in the 20th Century.

Enoch was in his usual belligerent frame of mind as the year began - lambasting Jack and Matt Skilbeck (Frederick Pyne) about the state of a boundary wall.

The Tollys led a frugal and somewhat grim existence on Tollys' Farm. Money was short, but with Enoch, his wife, Grace (Margaret Stallard), and daughter, Naomi (Jenny Tomasin), working together, the family managed to keep the farm going.

When Grace told Enoch that their other daughter, Hannah (Alison Ambler), who had broken away from Beckindale and was working as a trainee hairdresser in Hotten, would not be coming home on Sunday as usual, Enoch was horrified. If she would not return home for the sabbath, then she needn't bother coming home again at all, he ranted.

Grace - very much under Enoch's thumb.

Grace visited Hannah - but Hannah was insistent: on this one Sunday she was going out with her boyfriend - she had her own life to lead.

With a heavy heart, Grace headed home, dreading Enoch's reaction to the news.

Grace, Naomi and Enoch Tolly at home in early 1981. Enoch drank tea and laid down the law. Things were soon to change.

Back in Beckindale, Naomi had prepared a midday meal, and was surprised when her father did not come in for it. Finally, she went to investigate. She found that the tractor Enoch was driving out in one of the fields had toppled over. He was dead.

Grace was devastated. She expected Hannah would now return home and refused a generous offer from Richard Anstey (Carl Rigg), NY Estates' Beckindale manager, to buy her out. The house and much of the land belonged to NY Estates, and Richard proposed a generous deal to purchase the stock, equipment and land owned by Margaret. She refused. The Tollys would stay at Tollys' Farm. She and Enoch had built things up together. She would not even consider leaving.

Hannah caused her mother hurt and disappointment by refusing to move back home, stating once again that she had her own life to lead. However, she did spend some time at the farm to help out, and made it plain that, although she needed to lead her own life, she still cared about her mother and sister.

Unexpected help came via Seth Armstrong (Stan Richards). Seth confided in Amos Brearly (Ronald Magill) that he had courted Grace many years ago, before his marriage to Meg. He still retained a soft spot for her, and turned up at Tollys' Farm on several occasions to offer assistance.

Grace was convinced that she and Naomi could not cope alone - Enoch had worked all the hours God sent - and she decided to employ a man to work on the farm. It so happened that Seth was then able to help her further.

Cowman Daniel Hawkins (Alan Starkey) had been unhappy at NY Estates since the arrival of Joe Sugden (Frazer Hines) as farm manager in late 1980. It had been Joe's decision to begin a hormone injection trial with some of the cattle in Daniel's care. Daniel hated the idea, considering it highly unnatural. In 1981, Joe and Richard Anstey declared the trial a success, the injections would be extended to all the NY Beckindale cattle on a permanent basis. Daniel, who had promised to give in his notice in the event of such an outcome, was as good as his word.

People thought he was mad, in that era of high unemployment, and Daniel was not a young man. How would he find another job? But Daniel insisted he would not compromise his principles.

Seth discussed the situation with Daniel in The Woolpack, and Daniel assured him that he'd be all right - he was not only a cowman, he was well experienced in farming in general. Eureka! Seth immediately dragged him off to see Grace Tolly. Within a very short time a deal was struck and Daniel was in the employ of Tollys' Farm.

And for almost a year things were settled. Then, in early 1982, Grace faced facts: even with Daniel on hand, things were not running as well as they had in Enoch's day. Back then the Tolly family had managed to scratch a living, but now... well, the work was too long and arduous and the rewards too small.

Grace sold up, and the Tolleys left Beckindale for a new, hopefully easier, life in Hotten.

And as for Daniel Hawkins - fortune smiled on him. Grace's decision to leave Beckindale coincided with the arrival of Alan Turner (Richard Thorp) as the Beckindale NY Estates manager in March 1982. And the first thing Alan did, much to Joe's chagrin, was stop the NY cattle hormone injections.

Daniel was able to return to his old job, and Alan was able to try and tempt Matt Skilbeck away from Emmerdale Farm to work as shepherd at NY Estates. Dolly (Jean Rogers) was pregnant, and the couple were seeking a home of their own. The Tolly Farmhouse would go with the job, Alan assured them. Tempting bait indeed!

But in the end Alan's ploy was unsuccessful: Matt and Dolly moved into a new barn conversion at Emmerdale, and Tollys' Farm faded from the story-line.

1981: A Quickie Quiz Starring Walter, Amos Brearly And?

Paul has written to say that I haven't mentioned Al Dixon's Walter (1980-1985) for a while. Thanks, Paul - that won't do at all! Here's a Quickie Quiz featuring Walter - no prizes, just a bit of fun!

In late 1981, Walter was left knocking at The Woolpack as the pub remained closed at Opening Time. Highly puzzled, and persistent, Walter knocked and knocked and knocked...

Then another customer arrived - a man who was an infrequent visitor to Beckindale. He sounded his van horn, which was rather loud, to say the least...

... alerting Amos Brearly (Ronald Magill), who was busy painting the cellar to the strains of Gilbert And Sullivan's With Cat Like Tread on the radio, to the fact that Opening Time was past...

Missing Opening Time was something Amos never thought he'd do, but he was entering The Woolpack in the brewery's "Best Kept Cellar" competition, and, terribly keen to win, had been quite engrossed in his task.

Amos reprimanded Walter for rapping on the pub door so persistently and was not best pleased to see the man who had been making such a noise on his van's horn...

Here's the Quickie Quiz:

Can you tell, from looking at the middle photograph featured in this post, who the man in the van was?

1981: Break-In At Emmerdale Farm

When Dolly Skilbeck (Jean Rogers) took the best tea service and placed it on the dresser, ready for a wash as part of spring cleaning, she had no idea that this would bring about the end of a treasured possession for Annie Sugden (Sheila Mercier).

There had been a spate of burglaries in the district. And, late that night, the burglar came to Emmerdale Farm...

... and, once inside, began seeking valuables - as burglars tend to do.

Upstairs in the attic bedroom, Matt Skilbeck (Frederick Pyne) was restless, worried over a poorly ewe in the barn. He told Dolly he would go out to check on her, but Dolly advised not - it was best to get some sleep, he'd only disturb the ewe. Suddenly, there came a crash from downstairs! The clumsy burglar had managed to knock the tea service from the dresser to the floor as he probed around by the light of his torch.

Matt dashed downstairs, to find the burglar gone, the door wide open, and the shattered tea service all over the floor.

Sergeant MacArthur (Martin Dale) informed Matt and Jack Sugden (Clive Hornby) that although the door lock was strong, the wood around it was weak. There was no point in having a good lock if the surround was like plywood. And wasn't it a bit daft to keep the sheep dogs, Nell and Snip, in the buildings at the back of the farm?

Matt and Jack took the lecture quietly, although Jack later told Matt that he didn't like Sergeant MacArthur very much at all.

The next day, in the farmhouse, Dolly and Annie chatted. Annie was distressed over the loss of the tea service.

"It were a wedding present. I 'ad an aunt, lived in Richmond. We never saw 'er from one year's end to the next. But she turned up at the wedding with this present. It was good china, too - not the sort of present you expected in them days. You never knew Jacob, did you, lass? But you know things weren't always what they might have been between us. But there were good times - especially at the beginning. It was a marvellous wedding. Everybody singing and laughing and joking and folk all pleased to be with each other. Jacob had one too many, of course. But in them days he knew how to make folk laugh. And how to make folk love him... Somehow this china seems to stand for all that was good between Jacob and me..."

Matt was inducting Snip, a new sheepdog, at Emmerdale and one day, shortly after the burglary, Snip ran out into the road near the farm and was run over and killed by a speeding red Escort car.

Matt contacted the police.

Meanwhile, young Jackie Merrick (Ian Sharrock) and Andy Longthorn (David Clayforth) had stumbled across some of the burglar's loot at derelict Alder Cottages.

The burglar turned out to be the driver of the red Escort - he was pulled over and a stolen television and two radios were discovered in the back seat. Sergeant McArthur surmised that the man was in the act of hurriedly fleeing from the area, having discovered that the hiding place for his spoils at Alder Cottages had been rumbled.

Matt called the old faithful Nell out of service to resume sheepdog duties at Emmerdale.

And Jack, Joe (Frazer Hines), Matt and Dolly clubbed together to buy Annie a brand new tea service, an act which touched and pleased her greatly.

1981-1982: Alison Dowling As Jane Hardcastle

When the Reverend Donald Hinton held a disco for local youngsters in the village hall in 1981, it wasn't exactly Thrillsville. Donald delved into his son's old record collection - and out of date was the order of the night. Nobody was that happy - but wonderfully drippy Jane Hardcastle, a schoolfriend of Jackie and Sandie's, thought it was great.

She didn't get out much, it seemed.

Jane made occasional appearances in the Beckindale saga during 1981 and 1982. She was Jackie's girlfriend for a while, but the relationship fizzled.

Alison Dowling, who played Jane, has become far better known for her role in another English farming serial - she is Elizabeth in BBC Radio 4's The Archers. She also briefly appeared in that famous motel/hotel soap Crossroads, as it coasted towards its end in the late 1980s, playing fun-loving yuppette Lisa Lancaster.

1981: Jackie Merrick With A Gun!

Summer 1981, and young Jackie Merrick (Ian Sharrock) seemed to be settling into his new job as assistant to NY Estates gamekeeper, Seth Armstrong (Stan Richards).

Seth began inducting Jackie into the safe art of using a gun, and things seemed to be going well - until Jackie showed off a little in front of a couple of his mates - one of these being Seth's son, Fred.

Things got a little out of hand, the gun went off, and shot out a window of the Merricks' caravan. No harm was done, there was no great drama - although, as was made plain to Jackie, things could have been very different - particularly as his sister Sandie and her boyfriend were inside the caravan at the time.

Seth was furious with the daft young lad. Jackie bemoaned his stupidity. Word spread to his boss, Joe Sugden, who covered for him with Richard Anstey. But it was made plain by both Joe and Seth that Jackie was now barred from using the NY guns.

Perhaps Jackie should have stayed away from guns for good. In 1989, a tired act of clumsiness with a gun would result in his death.

Friends again - Seth and Jackie - Stan Richards and Ian Sharrock - at the corner shop in Esholt. Jackie had a black eye - all part of the story-line - the lad had almost got into a punch-up at the local disco, and sustained slight damage. This photograph was taken by the Esholt shop's proprietor in 1983 and sold as postcards for some years afterwards.

1981: Brothers At War - With Each Other - And Joe Lives In Hope...

Caught between the warring Sugden brothers (Frazer Hines and Clive Hornby), Matt Skilbeck (Frederick Pyne) longed for a peaceful life.

There was an outbreak of food poisoning at The Woolpack in late 1981. Amos had made a rabbit pie, from a rabbit given to himself and Mr Wilks by Seth Armstrong. He'd borrowed Annie's recipe book, and the pie was (apparently) a culinary delight. But very soon after it was eaten, the colly-wobbles set in. Seth's rabbit was, it seems, the chief suspect.

As Amos and Mr Wilks were not up to the evening session, kindly Dolly Skilbeck offered to step in and look after the bar for a while. This left her husband Matt alone at a quiet table in the pub with Jack and Joe Sugden. The table was not quiet for long.

Joe was in high spirits: Richard Anstey had gone from NY Estates, gone from Beckindale. Joe had enjoyed his time working with Richard, but the last few months had been fraught. Richard's affair with Virginia Lattimore, wife of NY regional manager Derek, had rather shocked Joe - particularly when he'd discovered the couple openly kissing outside Home Farm.

A wrangle over a pig unit hadn't helped: Joe wanted a unit for NY's Beckindale holding, having visited Lincoln and seen one in action, Richard was opposed to the idea on several grounds - not least that it would give Derek Lattimore reason to visit Home Farm more often to oversee the new development.

And Derek was growing suspicious that Richard and his wife were having an affair.

The languid and lovely Virginia Lattimore (Wanda Moore) shared intimate moments with Richard Anstey (Carl Rigg) at Home Farm in the 1980s.

Richard was also beginning to think that Joe was a bit of a bumpkin at times: "This is big business, Joe, not Emmerdale Farm!" he exploded on one occasion.

Tensions grew, Richard felt that Joe had plotted against him when the decision was taken over his head to start a pig unit at the Beckindale NY operation. He was finally told by NY chief Christopher Meadows to leave.

Joe was sorry to see Richard go, but Richard found it hard to believe that Joe hadn't plotted his downfall, with one eye on his own main chance.

Christopher Meadows asked Joe to take over the Beckindale holding as temporary manager for a few months - and who knows, perhaps he could apply for the position on a permanent basis? NY was apparently very pleased with Joe's work. Joe was thrilled.

But Jack was not so. In The Woolpack, with poor old Matt playing piggy-in-the-middle, Jack told Joe in no uncertain terms that he may be king of one castle, but if he thought he was going to be king of two (NY and Emmerdale Farm) he had another think coming!

The evening ended on a very stormy note.

But never mind. Joe had temporary promotion at NY, and could look forward to a possible permanent manager's post.

Christopher Meadows had been so encouraging.

As 1981 moved towards 1982, Joe decided that he would apply for the post.

But whether he would get it or not, well, who knows?

1981: A Deaf Man In Beckindale...

In the summer of 1981, a young man called Nicholas Houghton (played by David Gillies) arrived in Beckindale to restore a 9th century cross unearthed in St Mary's churchyard, and to make a plinth so that the cross could be displayed in the church.

The Reverend Donald Hinton was surprised to discover that Mr Houghton was deaf. Nicholas was, however, an expert lip reader, and detected much else via sight. He even knew when the vicarage door bell was rung, due to a brief distracted glance from Donald. When Donald walked up behind Nicholas whilst he was working on the cross in the churchyard, Nicholas turned to greet him, saying he knew he was there because of the shadow the vicar cast on the ground.

At The Woolpack, Amos was fascinated by the visitor, who had saved him from a hefty plumbing bill after repairing a leaking cistern (Amos had already sought to repair it and managed to cause a flood, but that's another story!).

Amos was used as the voice of ignorance in the story-line. He spoke to Mr Wilks about Nicholas:

"I cannot get over it, Mr Wilks - I can't believe as that man is deaf. He seems just like an ordinary human being!"

Henry was perturbed: "Well he is an ordinary human being!"

"I know. Well, I know in't way you mean and I reckon you ought to know in't way I mean, no offence intended!"

"None taken - I was just trying to make..."

Amos broke in and got himself in a verbal twist - as he so often did: "I mean no offence intended to him! By saying what I said, which might 'a' been taken as meaning summat what I didn't mean, but which is true any road, 'cos deaf folk aren't normal, are they?"

"Well, of course they are!" cried Henry. "They can't hear, that's all. You wouldn't say a one-legged man weren't normal, would you?"

"I certainly would! Men are s'posed to have two legs!"

Henry sighed. "Yes they are. But a one-legged man is a perfectly normal man who's just lost a leg, you don't treat him like an idiot because of it, do you?"

"I don't treat anyone that way!" said Amos, highly offended.

Before Nicholas left Beckindale, Donald Hinton spoke to him:

"I suppose there's no way... nothing can be done to get your hearing back? I would like to help."

"To make people understand - that would be the greatest help," said Nicholas. "I'm deaf, yes - I wish I could hear. I wish I could make people understand the way deaf people feel. The kind of world we have to live in. But I'm lucky. I can speak. I can read. I have work. There are far more deaf people that I know of that have none of the compensations I have. If you want to help me, try and make the world understand about them."

1981: Mr Wilks - The Red Indian!

Dolly Skilbeck took her role as head of the Beckindale playgroup very seriously, and had no hesitation in going to Henry Wilks, who had become parish councillor for Beckindale in 1981, when it seemed maintenance was needed at the village hall, where the playgroup was held.

The rent the playgroup paid, which hadn't been raised in years, was increased slightly and some of the major work was carried out. But Dolly still wasn't happy. When a little girl scraped her knee slightly on a nail sticking up out of the floor, Dolly determined to get Henry on-side. The general opinion in Beckindale was that the village was not getting a fair deal out of the rates - in comparison to larger places like Hotten.

Dolly invited Henry to spend some time at the playgroup. At first he was sceptical: children did scrape their knees, and the hall looked fine to him. He spent several hours at the playgroup, getting involved in face painting and reading stories to the children. By the end of it, he was so taken with the playgroup and the children that, although he still didn't see why Dolly was so up in arms, he vowed his support to her.

Dolly was very pleased with herself for seeing the issue through, and even more so when money was provided to carry out the repairs.

Mr Wilks left the playgroup in a great hurry on the day of his visit, realising that he would be late back at The Woolpack, and not wanting to incur the wrath of Amos.

But laughter not frowns greeted his arrival at the pub: he's forgotten to remove his face paint and head dress!

Arthur Pentelow at the Corner Shop, Esholt, in the 1980s. Always a tempering influence on Amos (particularly necessary during Amos' manic-to-the-max '80s era), Mr Wilks was one of Beckindale's best-loved villagers, and a huge favourite with viewers of Emmerdale Farm.

Emmerdale Farm - The Novels!

I've had a couple of enquiries about the Emmerdale Farm novels. These were published from 1977-1989, and written first by Lee Mackenzie and then by James Ferguson. The first novel was called The Legacy, and the last Wives And Lovers.

Additions to the series were usually advertised on ITV directly after an episode of Emmerdale Farm: "The latest Emmerdale Farm novel, Wives And Lovers [and so on], is now available." The screen capture above is from 1989.

1981: The Sheep Shelter

Jack was not happy when Matt suggested buying a sheep shelter from Clifford Longthorn. He wanted to invest money in starting organic farming at Emmerdale, although Joe was in opposition and the other members of the household had misgivings. Jack was even more disgruntled to discover that Matt had been to see Henry Wilks to discuss the financing of the shelter. Matt had seen the shelters in action on a visit to Smithfield in 1980, and been highly impressed.

"Matt, not another new fangled gadget, eh?" groaned Grandad Pearson.

"Oh no, Grandad, it's just a shelter for sheep, that's all," said Dolly.

Grandad was not convinced of the need for such a thing: "Well, they never needed shelters in my day!"

"Ah, but they did, they just didn't 'ave 'em, that's all!" said Matt. "They save a lot of money in lost lambs, do them shelters."

"Aye, Matt, well, we did lose a lot in the old days - especially in a bad winter," Grandad conceded.

Jack was still not happy.

Then Matt dropped a bombshell: asked where the shelter would go, he announced: "I've thought about that. There's only one place that it can go."

"Where's that?" asked Joe.

"Well, it's got to go round the back for a start," said Matt. "And it's got to go on well-drained land. I mean, that bit of land has got the right gradient. There's no other land round the back there that's really flat enough. "

"Well, which bit of land?" asked Joe.

"I don't really like to say..." Matt was looking very uncomfortable.

"Come on, Matt," urged Annie.

"Grandad's vegetable patch," said Matt.

Grandad was most unhappy. When Dolly asked how he was a day or two later, he bellowed: "Nobody round here takes any notice of my feelings anymore!"

He was promised another patch, but still felt he was being ill treated.

The rest of the family, and Henry Wilks, backed Matt's sheep shelter plan, but Jack - who was still fixed on the idea of investing in organic farming, tried to stall things. When Matt showed him a photograph of the shelter, he announced its appearance wouldn't fit in with the existing buildings.

Matt did not understand Jack's view of farming at all sometimes: the sheep needed the shelter - aesthetics didn't come into it!

As the days passed, Annie grew increasingly annoyed with her eldest son. Until, realising that her intervention was needed, she decided to take action.

Jack was feeling misunderstood - but was convinced he knew best:

"We're still spending too much on concentrates. I'll be glad when I can cut back on them and start using the grass better. Of course, it'll take time. The others don't really understand the principles involved. You can lead a horse to water, but if he thinks he can do without it..."

"I wish you could hear yourself talk, Jack - if only you knew what you sounded like!" cried Annie.

"What?" Jack was puzzled.

"You really do think you're the only person around here with any sense, don't you? You've been carrying on on this farm as if you owned it!"

"I haven't, Ma!"

Annie ignored him: "Well you don't own it - just remember that! I'm getting so fed up of you and your grandad behaving as though you're the only two people that matter!"

"It's not me I'm talking about - it's the farm!" said Jack, startled.

His mother glowered: "We agreed on this sheep housing for Matt, didn't we?"

"Aye. I've not forgotten that."

"No, but you're ignoring it - you're putting it off, hoping he'll forget the whole thing. Well, he won't forget it and neither will we. You can think we're a lot of idiots if you like for not understanding your farming principles, but let me tell you this: Matt knows more about sheep farming than you'll ever know. He's more expert in his field than you, with or without book learning!"

"I know that, Ma, but..."

Annie bulldozed him: "Happen you do! And happen that's why you're being so pig headed about letting him have his sheep house!"

"Oh, that's not fair, Ma..."

"Then why hasn't he got it? It's been over a week since we decided!"

"I don't mean to be pig headed. I know Matt's good at his job. Oh, he's a bit slow sometimes..."

Annie rose from her chair, furious.

"No, I didn't mean it, Ma!" Jack was shaken.

"All right, go and talk to him!"

"Aye, I will..." said Jack, playing for time.

"GO ON!!" cried Annie.

"What, now?!"

"No point in holding back!"

Jack scuttled for the door: "I'm going!"

Annie watched her eldest son scuttle out of the kitchen, like some daft little lad, her face stony.

Then she turned...

... and burst out laughing!

Jack sought out Matt and soon Matt was smiling.

The sheep shelter went up.

Matt was thrilled with it. He showed Grandad the ventilation system: "You can have a howling gale blowing outside, and in here all you get is fresh air!"

Later, Annie asked Sam about the loss of his vegetable patch: "You're not too upset, are you, Dad?"

"No, of course I'm not, love!" said Sam. "He's a good lad - and to see him running around like a spring lamb is worth any amount of vegetable gardens! Mind you, as long as I have another one as good!"

"What do you reckon, Dolly?" asked Matt.

"Seven!" said Dolly.

"Eh?!" Annie was puzzled.

"I've been counting up how many times he's said 'What do you reckon, Dolly?'!" grinned Dolly.

A hay fight broke out between the Skilbecks, and Matt chased Dolly to the nearby barn...

... where Mr and Mrs Skilbeck indulged in a quick kiss and a cuddle - both well pleased with the outcome of the sheep shelter affair - and with each other.

Freddie or Frederick?

Yasmin has written:

I've read that Frederick Pyne is sometimes referred to by friends as "Freddie". How was his name listed in the closing credits of Emmerdale Farm?

As Frederick, Yasmin.

I hope the 1981 screen capture above will bring back some happy memories of Frederick Pyne and Jean Rogers as Matt and Dolly - they were two of the audience's favourite characters in the 1980s. And that included me!

Click on one of the labels below for more information.

The Beckindale Bugle Review Of 1981

1981: The Beckindale Bugle

"But I've got my finger on't pulse, Mr Tyler..."

When Amos Brearly answered the phone at The Woolpack one morning in late May 1981, he never had any inkling of what was about to happen. He was a blithe, free spirit (well, as much as a Brearly could be) when he lifted the receiver. He was an absolute wreck when he hung up, blood pounding in his ears, despondency fighting intense anger, his life in absolute tatters.

And the first thing he did was to charge through to the back room and tear up the latest edition of The Hotten Courier - under the startled gaze of Mr Wilks: "Bear witness, Mr Wilks, to my severing - finally and forever - any connection I may have had with this worthless and dishonourable newspaper!"

As it was well known in Beckindale that Amos considered The Courier, particularly his contributions, as being just one step down from The Times, this statement came as something of a shock.

Amos, quivering and quaking (what would folk think?!) told Mr Wilks his sorry tale: Mr Tyler, the editor of The Hotten Courier, had decided to make staff cutbacks. And he had decided that Frank Hencoller could easily cover the "Beckindale angle". Amos described Mr Hencoller as a "drunken layabout" with as much journalistic ability as "a goose quill - still stuck in't backside o't goose, an' all!"

Once word got out, Amos would be a laughing stock. He decided to tweak the truth - he would tell people he had resigned - tendered his resignation due to pressure of work.

Still in a turmoil, Amos sought refuge on his allotment where Seth Armstrong, having heard the news of Amos' resignation from The Courier on his morning visit to The Woolpack, came to haunt him.

"If you've owt to get on with, get on with it - I'm in no mood for idle chatter!" said Amos.

But that didn't stop Seth - who was there to have a little dig around in Amos' brain pan and discover the truth behind his "resignation". Never a good liar, Amos spouted something about a "conflict of personality" at the paper. Seth leapt on that. But Mr Wilks had said Amos had resigned through lack of time.

"Aye, that an' all," muttered Amos, pretending to be concentrating on his allotment.

Seth buzzed around like an irritating gnat: "Not quite up to scratch, weren't we?"

Amos rose up before him: "That's nowt to do wi' it. There's problems on newspapers as don't occur to those as isn't un-initiated."

Unitiated? Well, that's what he said!

Amos told Seth that without a skilled local correspondent, The Courier would soon notice the difference.

"'appen!" said Seth, still gleefully stirring the pot. "But 'appen gap'll be filled - think on that, Amos!" and Seth set off on his bike, happy at the successful completion of yet another Brearly wind up.

But Amos was smiling. Happen the gap for a skilled local correspondent would be filled - and who better to fill it than himself? After all, The Courier didn't have a copyright on the local news...

"Why worry about editors and suchlike when you can be your own?"

The next morning, Mr Wilks found Amos up and about early, rummaging around for his trusty old camera, claiming not to have slept a wink the night before. He was clearly excited about something, and was soon sharing his news with Mr Wilks:

"I'm going to produce my own Beckindale local newsheet!"

Mr Wilks asked how he intended to get it printed? Amos had a small, second-hand photocopier in mind - going for the knock-down price of £20 in Hotten. The rest was easy:

"I'll write out all me own copy, type it out, and then get photos of items and events of interest, I'll sell it over't counter - could attract trade an' all!"

"If you felt like making any contribution, I might give you a byline to yourself, a photograph of yourself alongside. How about that, eh?" chortled Amos.

"I don't know if I could stand the honour, Amos!" said Mr Wilks.

Amos does his David Bailey act.

Amos went to Hotten to buy the small, "knock down price", second hand photocopier. I must say, it shows how determined he was: I've never known anybody to have a photocopier at home! "It could be best investment as I ever made!" said Amos to a slightly doubting Mr Wilks.

Amos told Mr Wilks he wouldn't demean himself by carrying advertisements in The Bugle. "No newspaper makes a profit these days - it's a public service!"

"Are you sure gratifying a personal whim doesn't come into it?" queried Mr Wilks.

"I don't know what you're on about!" cried Amos, The Virtuous.

Had Amos any idea of a name for his new venture? asked Mr Wilks. Amos had.

"How do you fancy ring of Beckindale Bugle?!" Amos smiled. And he donned his eyeshade to add an authentic touch to the proceedings.

Amos was soon running amok with his camera: he caused the vicar to upset a pile of books and papers when he got him to pose with a cricket bat at the Vicarage, and got on NY Estates' manager Richard Anstey's nerves by leaving the lens cap on the camera, thus having to re-take the picture of Mr A.

Jack Sugden was startled as Amos photographed him with some of the cows up at Emmerdale, and John Tuplin was bemused when Amos photographed him with some of NY's cattle. Amos tended to rush at each of his victims, sorry, I mean "subjects", jabbering away ten to the dozen, click the shutter, and be off, never taking more than one shot to ensure any quality control.

At The Woolpack, Amos announced to Seth that he was preparing a "photographic portfolio of local worthies" for The Bugle - and Seth just might be in the first edition - although he wasn't promising owt...

The Beckindale Bugle was put together by the original cut and paste method. Letraset lettering was bought for headings, and each article was then typed up in neat columns, cut out, and pasted on to a blank sheet of paper - together with the various headings. Amos planned to add the photographs when they had been processed.

He told Mr Wilks that he planned to run off "a couple of hundred" copies to start with. Publication day would be the same day as The Hotten Courier. The price of a Bugle would be three pence more than a Courier - 15p.

Mr Wilks is fed up with looking after a busy pub on his own and insists that Amos comes through to the bar to help. Amos decides he must burn some midnight oil after closing time...

Although Amos insisted that his publication would be a quality item, it makes me smile to remember just what poor quality photocopied photographs were. The process used by Amos was the one used by me and my classmates on my school's quarterly magazine back in the early 1980s. Nowadays things are totally different - and it all seems positively prehistoric!

Pasting up is coming on a treat - what a great front page...

Mr Wilks leaves Amos at his photocopier, to burn the midnight oil...

... the night ticks on into the wee small hours...

... and Mr Wilks discovers Amos slumped over his typewriter, dead to the world! Never mind. By the morning Amos had run off all the Bugle pages that did not feature photographs.

What seemed an insurmountable setback lay just ahead: "Wilson's want five days to develop that film, say there's nowhere round 'ere can do it quicker!" Amos mournfully told Mr Wilks after an early morning telephone call to the shop.

Mr Wilks had the solution: "Run off an addendum saying that the photographs referred to will be on display in The Woolpack during normal licencing hours sometime next week. Could be good for trade!"

Amos had to admit (although only to himself) that Mr Wilks could be a good and useful friend. At times.

And he'd learn by his mistake - for issue two of The Bugle, he'd have the photographs ready well in time, he decided.

Afternoon trade was brisk that day, and Amos had just given his proof copy of The Beckindale Bugle to the Rev Hinton, who was in the bar, to look at and make comments on "points of style", when Frank Hencoller came rolling in.

"You've got a rival now - that'll keep you on your toes!" Seth told him, as Mr H became aware of the vicar's reading matter.

"Not my fault, I only do what Editor asks me to," said Mr Hencoller, who was more than slightly squiffy.

His attempts to make peace with Amos were unsuccessful: "No 'ard feelings!"

"There may be no 'ard feelings on your part, I'll keep my feelings to meself!" Amos huffed.

Time flew by and the deadline loomed... Amos collated and stapled all his pages, and The Bugle hit the streets...

The photographs were processed and went on display at The Woolpack, as promised.

A selection of Amos' "Bugle" photographs...

"Why does everybody in your photographs look so surprised?" asked Mr Wilks. "I mean, even the cows look a bit startled."

"Well, folk are not accustomed to 'avin' Press on their doorstep," sniffed Amos.

Despite the advent of The Bugle, Mr Wilks did not intend to desert The Courier...

... but then that newspaper, via Frank Hencoller, committed a most ghastly act! Amos came charging out of The Woolpack, clutching The Courier as Mr Wilks closed the trap doors to the cellar.

"I let Vicar 'ave a look at my proof copy, remember? It must've got left on't bar and Hencoller must've walked off with it! He's used my match story, my show story, my vegetable story, in some cases word for word!"

Amos was beside himself and made to tear the copy of The Courier he held to shreds, but Mr Wilks wrenched it from him.

"That's censorship, Amos! What if I want to have a read of it still?"

" Then I hope you'll do me't kindness of readin' it elsewhere than in my presence!" cried Amos.

Was there anything that could be done about Hencollar's plaigiarism, asked Mr Wilks?

"Nowt!" said Amos.

As Mr Wilks sought to uncrumple The Courier, Amos' attention was caught by a figure across the street. "There's Walter. Eh up, he's bought a copy o't Bugle from't shop!

"Your first sale, Amos - let's hope you keep it up!" smiled Mr Wilks.

It was small consolation. But definitely some compensation.

Sales were going quite well and then Mr Tyler, editor of The Courier, phoned The Woolpack the day after publication...

Amos listened to what Mr T had to say: the gist of it was that Frank Hencoller had fallen down on the job quite literally - he'd collasped in The Black Bull in Hotten the night before and hadn't turned in for work that morning. Mr Tyler wanted Amos to cover the Beckindale Versus NY Estates Cricket Match. Amos agreed. On the condition that he was reinstated as local correspondent for Beckindale on the Courier staff.

Amos' demand was readily met, and Mr Tyler promised to put it in writing straight away.

It really was a famous victory.

"And where does that leave The Bugle?" asked Mr Wilks.

"Just as a threat, Mr Wilks," said Amos. "I reckon Courier were worried about competition. I knew they would be when they got to hear."

Amos revealed that he knew that Mr Tyler couldn't do without him: "A good newspaper needs folk with their finger on't pulse!"

But it was the end for The Beckindale Bugle.

"Mind, Bugle served a good purpose though," said Amos. "Perhaps I might not've got my job back if it wasn't for all the work I put in on't Bugle." And he sailed, gloriously victorious, into the living quarters.

"And if it hadn't been for Frank Hencoller being indisposed in't Black Bull!" said Mr Wilks. But not too loudly.