Lives flash by so quickly, and many of us are forgotten in an instant. The magical process of photography helps recent generations gain a piece of immortality, so we should, from time to time, bow our heads to the memory of those doughty pioneers who laboured in darkrooms and splashed about with stinking chemicals;...eventually bringing us the wonder of "Autopuzzles".
I had thought of using this picture as a puzzle, but then thought it more respectful to simply tell what I know about it. The photograph was taken by someone unknown, somewhere in Lancashire, England. The gentleman sat on the running-board is Mr. Stanley Hulme, a garage proprietor at Saint George's Road, Fallowfield, which in in South Manchester. I think the premises and business are still in existence. Stanley's parents are in the back of the car, and his wife is with him on the running-board, together with their six or seven years-old son, Eric. The car, far from new, is a Dorman-engined Ruston-Hornsby of the very early '20s, and was, apparently, a solid and reliable friend of the family.
Young Eric grew up, and, when the time came, became an engineer in the Army. Having survived this enforced interlude due to a spot of bother on the Continent, "S. Hulme, Motor Engineer" became "S. Hulme & Son". And Eric became a pillar of the local working class society. I first got to know him in the late 1950s. My father was struggling to find fuel for his aged Wolseley Ten, (the Suez crisis!), and Eric saved the day by selling him a few gallons of Cleveland. He had two pumps; Cleveland "Guaranteed", and that legendary brew Cleveland "Discol" which was claimed to be rated at 101 octane.
Eventually, I grew up too, and started to take my customers' cars round to Eric's place,...when it was raining. On ocassion he would call me if a two-handed effort was required, and it was always an honour, and fun, to assist. By this time, the little Eric from this photograph had blossomed into a robust mini Sumo Wrestler. Upon his completely bald head sat, summer or winter, a dark blue wooly hat. When pondering on some thorny mechanical challenge, the hat would be propelled around Buddha's head until coming to rest at a jaunty angle, signifying that the solution had been reached!
Meanwhile Lucy, Eric's sweet little wife, had become well known for providing tea which even the most devoted coffee-drinker could not resist. On more than one occassion a pair of local police officers could be spotted in the back room giving profound assurances on their mobile radios as to the nature of their position. It would be ungentlemanly to speculate upon how many crimes remained unsolved.....
Elsewhere, I have already stuck the knife in regarding the reputation of post-War Lucas ignition equipment. Eric supplied one of the cheaper alternatives. The stuff was no better in quality;...but it was cheaper. To the considerable joy of the neighbouring children, these small ignition parts, condensers and contact sets, were supplied in clear plastic "matchbox"-sized containers. Eric saved the empties in the back room. I happened to be there one day, drinking tea, when a couple of local urchins trotted in. "Hello Mr. Hulme", said the elder of the two. ".....have you got any Invisible Spiders???" With the greatest delicacy, Eric reached for one of the little plastic boxes. "There you are!", he said, in a sombre tone, "...but for God's sake don't remove that lid, or you'll be in real trouble!!" Two more happy customers.
By this time Eric had employed a full time lad as his assistant. He answered the telephone. It was Mrs. Davis, whose car was making an unhealthy noise whenever turning to the left. "....but what sort of noise does it make?" The reply was something close to "EEEuchata". The poor lady was asked to repeat this strange clue three more times. "...Hmm. You'd better have a word with Eric!" The great man came to the 'phone. "How are you Mrs. Davis? ...and what's the noise problem? Is it going 'OOOOch?" "NO, it goes, 'EEEuchata, EEEuchata, EEEuchata!!!" Wiping tears from his eyes, Eric said, "Didn't quite get that, Mrs? Davis, could you give us that once more?"
