Like most people I can remember the comedian Norman Collier
for his often-imitated ‘faulty microphone’ routine (and his impressions of a
chicken.) On a drive up to Scarborough I decided to go an unusual way up
through Hull to see if I could find his grave. I found the large St Mary’s
church in the middle of Welton village where the
funeral service had been administered. The village was so picturesque I was
surprised it hadn’t been used as filming location for Poirot or Midsomer Murders. I stopped the car and had a cheese sandwich and drank in
coffee as well as the scene before me: ducks sleeping by a stream, a green...er...village green, mature trees, handsome country houses,
well-trimmed hedges. I got out and had a walk around the ancient church and
only found ancient graves. Mmmm, no sign of Norman
even though the funeral service had been held here. I ensured I got walking alongside
a woman who was probably local as she wasn’t carrying anything. She was a
native and Norman and his family lived just off the centre of the village
opposite her friend’s home. Oddly she didn’t know where the nearest cemetery
lay.
I had a bit of
look round the village listening to a play that was approaching its dramatic
zenith. There didn’t seem to be a newer churchyard to absorb the recent dead. I
branched off odd streets hoping they’d lead to a churchyard but I ended up
returning to my car to view scribbles in my notebook. “Common L” said a scrawl and
I guessed this was Common Lane. I put it in my Sat-Nav
and was glad to see it existed.
Minutes later
I parked on a road with a dilapidated commercial building on it. No church, no
spire, no crucifix, no people - only a deserted boarded-up commercial building
with boarded-up or smashed windows. I put my hand in and helped free a
butterfly that was bashing itself on a pane of glass. A tenant texted to say
the toilet was leaking. Not an emergency thankfully.
Across the
road some railings held in a hodge-podge of odd head
stones. Off to the left some high hedges opened out to modern graves - always
aesthetically disappointing compared with the ornate old stones ones. Norman’s
was easy to find and I saw “Comedy Legend” on the headstone before I saw his
name.
Not sure about
legend but he was an old-fashioned comic - no swearing, no talking about big
willies, periods, vomit, condoms, toxic trumps (like most modern comedians who
aren’t funny.)
Norman was
born on Christmas Day in 1925 and not far from his final resting place. He grew
up in the centre of Hull and was the eldest over seven brothers and sisters.
Aged 17 he joined the Royal Navy and was a gunner towards the end of the Second
World War. When the war was over he found work as a labourer. Aged 23 he was in
Perth Street West club in Hull when an act failed to turn up. Norman
volunteered to fill in and was such a natural performer he started working a
few local clubs. He wasn’t professional yet and through the day was working do
British Petroleum. He made his workers laugh and his bosses encouraged him to
get on the northern working club scene but he was 37 before he became a
full-time.
He made occasional
appearances on television but was more comfortable on the northern club
circuit. His trademark piece was pretending to be a club compere whose
microphone is working intermittently. Television never did him justice (he
wouldn’t appear on The Comedians) and he saved his detailed performances for
the clubs. Having said that at 45 he easily won an ITV series Ace of Clubs in
which club entertainers performed against one another before a panel of judges.
A traditionalist by nature he led a
traditional life living quietly in Welton with Lucy,
his wife of sixty years, and three children. His autobiography Just a Job
encapsulated his view of life. Life was the family and the comedy life was a
job.
He developed Parkinson’s disease and died
in a nearby residential nursing home aged 87.
____________________________________________________________________________________________
The churchyard was behind some
hedges on a quiet cul-de-sac lane…
Looking for the grave of…
The graves were looked on by two
teddy bears which looked like they had survived a few rainfalls…
The neighbouring headstone held some
wise words…