Published: Friday, 6th February, 2009 12:32pm

Fond memories of my old flames

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WASHED, brushed, suited and booted, tie straightened...I reported for duty on my first day at the Bracknell News in 1970.

I was met by Horace Cheney, the sports editor, who gave me my first job. "Ah, the new cub reporter," he said, "Your first task every morning will be to clean out and light the coal fire." So much for that white shirt from Burton's.

The office was small, low ceilinged and above Joe Smith's the bookies in the old High Street. The furniture was at best third hand and the typewriters would be star of the show on Flog It. The chief reporter had the newest one, a 1948 Royal. How we envied him. Editor Roy Bustin had a small office as did his deputy David Ranger and the rest of us were packed into a space the size of an average living room. Photographers Gary Jones and Pat Racher were a few doors up the street with the advertising staff.

Bracknell was a great place to learn journalism. New businesses, new estates, new offices, new factories. Bracknell Development Corporation ruled the roost and the town council found itself sidelined and over-ruled.

The councillors fought back by befriending young reporters, buying them a drink, and saying: "Did you know that so-and-so..."

or "The real scandal of the new arts centre at South Hill Park is..." Rebels like Joe Brant were a thorn in the side of everyone in authority. He was an original Bracknell man who hated the way his town was being changed by outsiders.

One day he stole the council minute book from their offices and ran. On his way he dashed into our office shouting: "Come on lads, they're after me, let's have some fun!"

Joe was pursued by reporters, photographers and puffing council officials on a merry chase around the town centre.

We had a couple of old Fleet Street hands - Chris Ward: "I was once one of the top four gossip columnists in the country"; Dorothy Cannell: "I'll never forget the day they told us the News Chronicle was closing."

Eventually our cosy office was doomed by redevelopment. It led to our most inaccurate headline ever when there was a hiccup in the plans: ‘HIGH STREET OPENING DELAYED'.

In truth it was the closure and pedestrianisation of the High Street which had been put back for a few weeks.

Not for ever though, and we decamped to a detached house in Bagshot Road (centrally heated!) opposite Humphries Exhausts, but now sadly demolished too.

We moved our allegiance from The Bull, The Unicorn and the Old Manor to The Horse and Groom, the Downshire Arms and the Newtown Pippin. Occasionally we'd venture into the country for lunch at the Three Legged Cross.

As cub reporters we didn't get paid much (I'll never figure out how we afforded all that beer). But we had fun. And I know how to lay a mean coal fire.

Chris Stevens

Reporter 1970-1975