1980: Indoors, Outdoors

Lindley Farm was the real life exterior location for Emmerdale Farm from 1972-1993. Interior scenes were filmed in the studios at Yorkshire Television, and the interior of Emmerdale farmhouse was very different to the interior of Lindley Farm. Usually, clever camera work kept the illusion for viewers that Lindley Farm was Emmerdale Farm, but occasionally there was a slip up.

This scene from 1980 shows Dolly Skilbeck leaving Emmerdale Farm for a trip into Hotten. But what has happened to the underside of the staircase which protrudes into the farm kitchen, where are the familiar coat pegs, and what is that wallpaper and (what looks like a) water heater doing inside the kitchen?!

The studio interior set, 1980 - staircase and coat pegs included!

1980: A Crisis Of Faith...

The Reverend Donald Hinton, vicar of Beckindale, spoke of coming nearer to God than ever before in 1980. On retreat in the rarefied atmosphere of St Luke's, the vicar was able to ponder his role in the village. For some time he had been worried that the people of Beckindale did not use him properly: he was a useful signature for passport applications, gave advice on social services contacts and even, on occasion, plumbing contacts in the locality! He confessed to sometimes feeling like an "auxiliary to the Social Services Department".

Donald was gravely concerned that he was not meeting his responsibility for the spiritual welfare of the community, and determined to do something about it.

On his return, he gave a sermon which caused much controversy. Matt and Dolly discussed it at Emmerdale Farm:

"I've been thinking about what the vicar said," Dolly mused. "I reckon he were dropping hints about how the village needs to buck its ideas up."

"Well, no, not exactly," said Matt.

"Well, he were being unfair anyway," replied Dolly, who had quite made her mind up on the subject.

"I don't think he meant that. I reckon he meant that there are some jobs that are the vicar's and some that aren't - so don't go bothering him with things like passport applications which the doctor can do anyroad."

"Well, the doctor's as busy as he is - busier!" exclaimed Dolly.

"I don't think it's just that," Annie, who was doing some hand washing at the sink, broke in. "Happen he feels he does too much organising things and social work. He wants to remember what he is - a vicar."

The Reverend Hinton saw Mr Wilks outside The Woolpack. Mr Wilks felt that the vicar's sermon had given folk something to think about: "You should've heard the arguments in there last night." He indicated the pub.

"Arguments?" Donald was puzzled.

Mr Wilks told the vicar that people had been placing their own interpretations on what his sermon had meant, and that these interpretations were many and varied.

"What was your interpretation?" asked Donald.

"Plain enough to me. A vicar's got enough on his plate without having to worry about things like the church cottage drains - writing sermons, confirmation classes, visiting the sick, to say nowt of weddings and Christenings and funerals. Am I right?"

"Not really, Henry," said Donald. "It's not just a question of time, more of attitude. The village's attitude - and mine, of course. My first duty is to the spiritual welfare of the community."

Donald had a visit from the Bishop that afternoon. Whilst the Bishop was there, Donald received a telephone call from a villager enquiring about home helps. Having replaced the receiver, he spoke to the Bishop about his concerns:

"I'm here to preach the word of God, yet I seem to spend more than half my time on things like that!"

The Bishop felt that long retreats could be dangerous ("St Luke's has gone to your head!"), and reminded Donald that he wasn't a member of a closed order.

"If the vicar is regarded as... say, the man who gets the drains mended at Church Cottage, then no one is brought nearer the Kingdom of God!" said Donald. "People are lost in the maze that is 20th Century living. How am I to show them through the maze if I've just become another part of it?"

The Bishop admitted he was there on a mission - to ask Donald to become a rural dean. It would mean that Donald would be supervising half a dozen other vicars. But, with Donald's current thoughts and feelings, the Bishop realised he'd chosen the wrong time to ask.

"To save embarrassment I won't ask now. But when you've sorted all this out, I will. And I won't want the answer that you would've given me today."

Harry Moore was a cantankerous old man who lived in the village with his dog, Sparky. His wife had died over thirty years before and, after a recent fall, Harry was suddenly housebound.

He was lonely and spent a lot of time at his window.

The local Meals On Wheels service staff had long been told that only five minutes should be spent on each client. But Harry wanted more. He wanted company. As the Meals On Wheels ladies took their leave one day, Harry lambasted them from his window:

"You rush in, dump food on't table and rush out again! That's no way to treat a respectable senior citizen who's spent all his life upholding right..." The two women hastened into their car. "I'LL REPORT YOU TO'T SUPERINTENDENT!" wailed Harry. "NO TIME TO STOP AND BE CIVIL TO SOMEONE WHO CAN'T GET ABOUT! DO YOU HEAR? I'LL REPORT YOU!!"

Harry slammed closed the window and sat down, near to tears.

Matt Skilbeck bought some tobacco in for Harry after he'd requested it. Harry then began to regale him with tales of the past: "Did I ever tell you about the time Sam Pearson and me..."

"You'll have to tell me some other time, Harry - I've got sheep to tend to."

"Aye, you're same as all't rest!" said Harry bitterly. "You've no time to talk to an old man who gave best years of his life fighting for't likes of you!"

But Matt really had to leave.

"Vicar don't come to see me, so why should thee?" asked Harry mournfully. He'd knocked on the window to attract the vicar's attention only that morning, and had simply received a cheery wave in reply.

Matt was concerned about Harry and called on Donald to request he pay the old man a visit. "I'll come as soon as I can," promised Donald.

And he was as good as his word.

His visit was not an easy one. Harry wanted to have communion. But he hadn't taken the sacraments for over thirty years.

"My wife, Martha, used to. Only when you get to't near end you start to think about them things..."

Donald told him he hadn't come prepared to give communion.

"Don't you think we should have a chat first?"

"What about?"

"Well, you haven't set foot inside a church since I've been here. You haven't taken communion for over thirty years. I should like to know why. Did you just drift away?"

"I did not! I fell out wi't vicar!"

"You've fallen out with a good many people."

"Damnation to the lot of 'em! I don't like people. I like dogs. "

"God made man in his own image."

"More fool him then!"

"Harry, I don't think you're in the right frame of mind to take the sacraments."

"All't trouble in't world's caused by folk. Dogs don't cause no trouble - not if they're looked after proper. Dogs understand me."

"I don't pretend to understand you, not yet."

"You won't bring me communion, then?!"

"I'd be very happy to, Harry. But we've a good deal of talking to do first. And praying."

"I want it now! I'm not interested in all that. And if you're not going to give it to me, you can get out!"

Dolly, waiting to begin work at the local playschool in a fortnight's time, was helping out the Meals On Wheels service. Harry confided in her that he had a weak heart - he'd had a small heart attack two years ago, and the doctor had told him the next one might be his last.

Totally untrained in care for the elderly, but very well meaning, Dolly managed to patronise and upset Harry. Helping him to the table for his meal, she said: "Oops a daisy, here's your stick. Off we go then!"

"Oh, leave me be, woman!" cried Harry. "I'm not a baby! I can walk to me own table!"

Dolly was sorry for the old man, felt that he didn't mean half he said, and offered to return for a chat with him after she finished her Meals On Wheels round later that afternoon.

Dolly was with Harry when the vicar paid his second visit. Harry had confided in her that the vicar had refused to give him communion and asked her not to leave him alone with Donald.

"He's not gonna eat you!" laughed Dolly.

Outside Harry's cottage, Dolly asked the vicar: "What on earth have you done to Harry?"

"Only told him that he wasn't in a fit state of mind to take communion."

"But that's just him. You don't want to take notice of anything he says. All that matters is cheering him up a bit."

"No, not all. Cheerfulness you can bring him. I want to bring him peace of mind."

"Well, let him take communion."

"Oh, I've no intention of denying him. But not just to cheer him up. I may say I'm not looking forward to this."

And Donald went back into the cottage.

What followed was very difficult. Donald wanted Harry to pray with him. Harry refused.

"When did you first get like this?"

"Like what?"

Donald smiled gently: "A miserable old devil with not a good word to say for anybody? It wasn't your fall - it happened long before that. What happened all those years ago when you fell out with the vicar?"

"It doesn't matter now," said Harry quietly.

"How old were you then - fortyish?"

But Harry was no longer listening. "She liked dogs," it was almost a whisper.

"What?"

"I SAID SHE LIKED DOGS!!" tears were brimming in Harry's eyes.

"Who?"

"My wife, Martha. She killed herself. The vicar, he could've helped. He didn't - never had time. She left me a note. 'Look after Bess for me,' - see, that were her dog. 'Look after Bess for me'... That's all she said. 'Look after Bess... ' ". Harry was openly crying.

Donald leaned forward in his chair: "Do you feel like praying now?"

"Get out, Vicar," whispered Harry through his tears.

"We'll pray together."

"Go on, get out!"

"I'll see you again tomorrow. I think that's best." Donald left.

Harry, now alone in his cottage, sobbed.

The next morning found Harry's cottage door open and Sparky, Harry's beloved pet dog, running around the house and garden.

Sparky nuzzled his master's hand. But there was no answering movement.

At Emmerdale Farm, Annie was telling the family what she knew of Harry Moore's wife:

"It were a long time ago. She were a strange lass. The only child of elderly parents. Lived in that cottage t'other side o't bray. She was found drowned. Accident, the coroner said. But there was talk. That was more than thirty years ago."

A little later, Donald was making his way towards Harry's cottage, dressed to give the old man the communion he so desperately sought. As he neared the cottage, he saw an ambulance and a small crowd standing outside.

"Has Harry been taken ill?" Donald asked the postman.

The postman had actually found Harry: "He must've had a heart attack. He'd been dead some time. There's nowt anybody could've done, doctor said, unless they were with him when it happened and not much chance then. Best you can say is Harry probably knew nowt about it."

"Lord, let us us now thy servant depart in peace..." murmured Donald.

He was shocked to the core and went to the church to pray. Here, PC Ted Edwards, the local bobby, found him. He was trying to establish Harry's time of death and thought that Donald was probably the last person to see him alive.

"What was his state of mind?" asked Ted.

"He was a little upset. With me, I'm afraid. I'd refused him communion. It seemed to me that his attitude was not conducive to a state of grace. I'd no right to do that. I was guilty of passing a judgement that only God can make."

"Yes, well," - all this was way beyond Ted: "It's just a question of an approximate time of death..."

The vicar appeared not to hear him: "I knew about his heart. I let my own concerns and worries come first..."

After Ted had taken his leave, Donald sank to his knees again.

Later, up at Emmerdale Farm, Donald confided his inner turmoil to Annie:

"I passed judgement on a man without knowing him at all."

"You can't blame yourself for not knowing him."

"Oh no, if I'd done my duty... I should have talked to him - found out who he really was."

"Do that for everyone you'd have no time for owt else..."

"No, don't make excuses for me, Annie. I know I was in the wrong."

"You acted according to your beliefs. No man could've done more."

Donald was still deeply unhappy: "The balance was wrong - in me. There was nothing wrong with my decision to put prayer and the search for God before my social work obligations but I pursued that decision to the point when I let my own doubts interfere with my practical religious duties. I was guilty of a lack of balance, Annie. And that led to Harry Moore dying without the solace of the communion that he wanted."

"It's easy to see that now. But there's lots of things most of us wouldn't have done in our lives if we'd been able to see into the future."

Donald frowned and rubbed his forehead: "At least we can learn from the things that do go wrong. In St Luke's, I came nearer to God than at any other time in my life. I wanted that union to last. And others to join me in it. But for a parish priest I went about it the wrong way. Everything that happens in the parish is important because the people are important. There are so many roads in the search for the Kingdom of God, Annie. If I'm to do any good, I daren't ignore any of them."

"Seems to me if you want to take folk with you, you've got to make sure they're on your side."

Donald smiled: "Which sums it up far better than I could have done!"

"I'm on your side!" Annie declared. "And if you want any help gathering the lost sheep... First thing is to fix a new date for the Church Council meeting!"

"No," Donald corrected her, his balance restored. "First thing is to help you with the washing up!"

After thoughts...

Reading my account of this story is a very second rate experience compared to actually watching the episodes concerned. The story, which took loneliness, suicide, religious issues and sudden death as its themes was, quite simply, an example of 1980s Emmerdale Farm at its very best.

The lead players were absolutely brilliant - Walter Sparrow evoked great pity as Harry Moore - I was actually moved to tears, Hugh Manning, as the Reverend Donald Hinton, was, as always, a joy to watch, as was Sheila Mercier (Annie Sugden). Jean Rogers, newly arrived as Dolly Skilbeck also gave a sterling performance. This was an excellent and highly thought provoking piece of television drama.

Annie Sugden And Sheila Mercier

From the Emmerdale Farm Celebration Edition 1000 Episodes Magazine, 1985.

Annie Sugden

Ever since she was widowed thirteen years ago, Annie Sugden has felt responsible for Emmerdale Farm and the Sugden family. Life has not been easy for her, coping with financial crises, warring sons and the loss of her only daughter. But she has faced the problems courageously. She's a strong, level headed woman, loyal to her family but not blind to their weaknesses, and she speaks her mind when she feels it's called for. Annie's honesty is usually appreciated and people often turn to her for advice, but the years haven't dulled her sense of humour. She enjoys a joke as much as anyone in the family.

Sheila Mercier

"Annie Sugden has changed a great deal over the years," said Sheila Mercier. "At the beginning she was very terse. She was the head of the family and let everyone know it. She ruled with a rod of iron. She'd had a tough life. She'd had a rough ride with Jacob, who used to drink the money away and sit in the Woolpack until all hours. Jack didn't live at home then and it was Annie who kept the farm together. Until Henry Wilks came along they were poor farmers, living hand-to-mouth.

"But now things are different. Jack has made a success of Emmerdale and Henry's interest in the farm and Annie herself has made her relax. She's mellower now."

Sheila Mercier enjoys playing Annie and has learned to live with the fame it brings her.

"People often stop you in the street and say 'Oh. I'm sorry I thought I knew you.' Or they call out 'Oi! Are you Annie Sugden?' Others write to Annie asking her to solve their problems."

Ocasionally though, the attention is unwelcome.

"I do think it's rude when people interrupt your meal to ask for autographs," said Sheila. "And once a woman with a bag of fish and chips ran after me shouting 'Oi! Oi! Annie! Sign this fish and chip paper for me!' "

Sheila has been interested in acting for as long as she can remember. Her whole family was in love with the threatre. Her mother had a beautiful singing voice and spent a great deal of time organising shows to raise money for the church.

"My brother Brian Rix and I used to hide under the piano and listen to them rewhearsing," said Sheila. "My father was a ship owner and he didn't go on stage himself, but he used to make all the scenery. We had a little cottage in the grounds of our house where he kept all his stuff and he was always sawing and hammering and painting. He loved it."

When her mother wasn't putting on shows, she was throwing lively parties at which everyone did his party piece. Sheila's speciality was the dramatic poem.

"My favourite poem was called 'Ojistoh", about a Mohican woman who is captured by another tribe. It's quite exciting," said Sheila. "I learned it at elocution lessons when I was eleven, and when I recited it the mistress said 'That girl will be an actress.'

"The funny thing is, years later when I was in the airforce I was asked to do something for a concert. I couldn't think of anything to do until I remembered 'Ojistoh'. Anyway, in the audience that night were some tough Glaswegian boys from the Argyll and Sutherland Regiment and when I launched into 'Ojistoh' they started to laugh and they laughed me off stage!" It was Sheila's worst theatrical disaster.

Spotted at drama school by Sir Donald Wolfitt, she was invited to join his company and spent a great deal of time staying in seedy digs while they toured the country.

"The funny thing is when you're young you don't seem to mind," said Sheila, "and the landladies could be kind. In Norwich one of the other girls and I were staying with a Mrs Pigani who discovered that we liked Welsh Rarebit. It turned out to be her husband's speciality and we had it for supper every night!"

Since then Sheila has worked in countless productions, including comedies with her brother Brian Rix. These days, however, she's happy to swap the irregular hours of the theatre for the more settled life of television.

1989: Annie Sugden's Tranquilliser Adiction...

"These last few days I've felt like staying in bed. Not getting up, not ever...."

I frowned upon the Emmerdale Farm storyline which portrayed the serial's sensible matriarch, Annie Sugden, being hooked on tranquillisers and going through agonies to break the habit.

I didn't like soap folk behaving out of character, it didn't seem true to life. Nowadays I rarely view soaps, but I have learnt a lot more about life and have come to the conclusion that real people often behave out of character. And aren't soaps supposed to reflect reality? Well, at least that was the intention back in 1989!

Annie had endured lashings of heartache: her husband, daughter and two grandchildren had died in the 1970s, and her father and daughter-in-law in the 1980s (after the tranquilliser addiction storyline, Annie would face further heartache with the death of her grandson, Jackie).

So, perhaps the tranquilliser storyline was not that unlikely at all.

Some Beckindale Cast And Characters - September 1984

Some of the cast and character details from the Hotten Courier, Yorkshire TV's publicity pamphlet for Emmerdale Farm, September 30, 1984. Did you know that Hugh Manning (the Rev Donald Hinton) also starred in the highly successful 1960s series Mrs Thursday? That Arthur Pentelow (Mr Wilks) was a keen birdwatcher, just like his character? That Al Dixon (Walter) hoped his character would never speak? Or that Sheila Mercier (Annie Sugden) is the sister of Brian Rix?

Also from The Courier, Al Dixon, who played the second Woolpack Walter, and contributed so much to the pub's atmosphere, celebrated four years at the bar in 1984, having debuted in September 1980. Mr Dixon suffered a stroke in late 1985, but continued to appear on-screen until Christmas, when he had a small role in the village play, Toad Of Toad Hall. The play sequence, plus another scene with Walter knocking on the door of the Woolpack at opening time, to be admitted by Amos, had been filmed on location in Esholt before the actor fell ill.

-

In early 1986, Walter departed from Beckindale to stay with his sister in Worthing. It was hoped that Al Dixon would recover from his stroke and return to the show, but he died not long afterwards.

25 Years Ago - The Way Things Were - Gossip From Beckindale 1983 - Part 3

A cold, sunny morning in early 1983, and Mr Wilks arrived at the Woolpack at the same time as the postman with that day's post. He took it. Amos was busy behind the bar and would read his mail later.

Up at Emmerdale Farm, the postman gave a letter to Sam Pearson...

... who became very excited upon opening it. "Annie! Annie!"

In the farmhouse, Sam showed Annie and Pat the letter, which revealed that he had won a competition organised by Shepherd's Super Seeds - a cruise for two to the Canaries.

"I may not know much, but I know all about flowers! 'Supersede all other seeds,' as soon as Jack said that, I knew it couldn't be beat." He turned to Pat: "So, half of it's yours and half of it's Jack's and you must have a lovely holiday between you!"

But Pat refused. She was worried about Sandie who, having broken the news of her pregnancy, had gone to stay with her father. Pat wanted to remain at home in case she was needed in any way.

"She seems to have taken Sandie's going harder than I thought, Annie," said Sam after Pat had left them.

"Give her time, Dad, it hasn't been easy," said Annie.

As for the cruise, Annie and Sam decided they would go together, if that was all right with the others.

"I've just thought of something - this is going to put a flea in Amos' ear - he went in for the competition too!" laughed Sam.

Annie was delighted to see her father in such good spirits. The news of Sandie's pregnancy had made Sam very unhappy - he was fond of the girl and very concerned for her. Annie was glad that something had put the spring back in his step.

Meanwhile, at the Woolpack, Amos had sat down to read his mail whilst Mr Wilks prepared them something on toast.

Suddenly, Amos became very excited: "I'm a winner, Mr Wilks, a winner!"

It turned out he'd won one of fifty tricycles as a runner-up in the Shepherd's Super Seeds competition. "That'll just suit me, with my balancing!"

Of course, Amos couldn't resist puffing himself up a little: "I just knew that little rhyme of mine would catch their eyes! You thought I couldn't find a rhyme for that, didn't you?"

"A rhyme for what?" asked Mr Wilks.

"Horticulture, Mr Wilks, horticulture - Shepherd's Super Seeds! 'Considering gardening at this juncture, you can't beat Shepherd's Super Seeds for horticulture'! I knew that was a winner as soon as I thought of it!"

Well, it certainly deserves summat," said Mr Wilks. He reminded Amos that he was only a runner-up, an "also ran", but Amos was not to be deterred - a winner was a winner!

Then another thought struck him: "Sam Pearson's going to take this hard - me being a prize winner! Well, he went in for the competition an' all!"

Annie was soon into listing what was "wanted on voyage", although as she said to Pat: "The more I try to shorten this, the longer it seems to get!"

Sam was very excited: "Annie, I've been looking in this book and it says the way to avoid sea sickness is not to keep your eyes fixed on owt - it's written by a globe trotter, a travel book."

"I'd have thought that meant he was a walker!" laughed Pat, who was doing some hand washing at the sink.

"Hmm," Sam decided to ignore that. "And it says you should only drink bottled or boiled water."

" Dad, this was written in 1870!" said Annie.

"That doesn't matter! The desert hasn't changed, has it? I mean, the Sahara's still there?"

"It's the Canaries, Dad, and we're going on a ship - a modern ship."

"Annie, it says a day in Casblanca. Now, that's in Africa, isn't it? And it's near the desert!"

"But they don't live in tents and drink river water, Mr Pearson," Pat laughed.

"I hope not!" said Sam

Meanwhile, Amos was thrilled with his tricycle. It had been expected in some quarters that he might be more than a little jealous of Sam's prize winning success, but not Amos - the tricycle had gripped his imagination, as things tended to do, and he was as pleased as could be.

"You make a fine sight on that!" said the vicar, the Reverend Donald Hinton, meeting Amos in the village one morning.

"Aye, it's the extra wheel, you see - lending not only balance, so you can't fall off it, but making it look right - like it's meant to have a body on it," explained Amos.

"I see," smiled Mr Hinton.

"And it's safe, you feel quite safe with this," Amos continued. "Not vulnerable and you can take a look around at things without wobbling."

"Yes, you did have a wobble on the other, I had noticed." said Mr Hinton.

"Aye, I always did have a wobble. I always used to say, 'Put me on a bike and you have a wobble'. Not with this, on this I never wobble!"

On the cruise departure day at Emmerdale Farm, Annie was serene and ready well in time...

... whilst her father flew around the house, seeking things already packed, and checking and rechecking his suitcase, until Jack loaded it in the car!

But finally the travellers were off, with Jack driving them to the airport.

The intrepid travellers were only away for a few episodes, but life didn't stand still. In their absence, Jack and Jackie became closer and Pat deserted her disliked (and not terribly successful) duties at the Aga to help out on the farm - which rather took Jack aback.

When the travellers returned, they declared that they'd had a lovely time.

And one of the first things Sam did was to pop round to the Woolpack to show Amos his holiday snaps.

25 Years Ago - The Way Things Were - Gossip From Beckindale 1983 - Part 2...

TV Times, 19-25 February 1983. The synopsis for the episode of Emmerdale Farm broadcast on 22/2/ reads:

Jackie Merrick seems keen to settle in at Emmerdale. But he soon realises he has much to learn.

What were the details of this storyline?

When Jackie found an old butter churn in one of the outbuildings at Emmerdale Farm, he thought it might make a nice ornament. But Dolly, who was already making her own wool, was fired with the ambition to use it...

Annie exclaimed at the find "It's Granny Sugden's old churn! Where'd you find that?"

She pointed out that if the churn was to be used, it would need a stand.

Jackie set to work without consulting Matt, who happened upon the lad working on the stand some time later. He expressed concern at the lack of proper carpentry joints, and the use of nails instead of screws. But Jackie shrugged Matt's doubts off.

That night at the farmhouse, Pat, Dolly and Matt assembled...

... for the grand entrance of the butter churn, complete with Jackie's new stand.

Jackie gave his audience a brief demonstration...

... and the stand fell apart.

Jackie was furious - after all his work! - but Matt offered to help him make a new stand.

And the following day that's just that what they did.

Unknown to Jackie and Matt, Jack happened upon the scene and was glad to see his son was finally settling in at the farm.