There's no doubt that photographs can often be the gateways to memories of people, places, or events from the past and this week an old picture of Milford Beach has triggered a memory of an occasion.

It's a simple saga, light-hearted, although it caused quite a stir when it happened, and was originally described to me by my maternal grandfather, "Pop" Edwards, of 47, Robert Street, Milford, the house (now the car park) where I was born. "Pop" was a master story teller and, with a twinkle in his eyes, and a gigantic cup of tea in his hands, his tales would keep me spellbound and amused for hours on end.

After the war ended, my mother, father and I were living with my grandparents, waiting to move into one of the new council houses being built in Vicary Crescent, Pill.

My dad was then working as a labourer for Merriman the Builders, and my mum, who'd worked in the Mine Depot until I was born in 1944, had a part-time cleaning job in the Lord Kitchener in Charles Street.

"Pop" had a vast number of tales to tell. Some from his days as a sailor, including one when he got into the ring (for a few tots of whiskey) to spar with a Japanese flyweight champion, others from his days when he was as a "master blaster," blowing up a storm on local sites and quarries.

Today's less explosive memory began in one of his favourite drinking dens, the Commercial on Milford's Market Square on a busy Saturday night, in the late 1930's. As usual, Pop and his cronies were enjoying themselves, supping beers, playing dominoes and laughing and joking at their own banter.

One of the regulars, for the purpose of this TRM I'll call him Harry, suddenly became very serious, so serious that the revellers, crowding round him, stopped to listen.

Western Telegraph: The Commercial on Market Square.The Commercial on Market Square. (Image: Jeff Dunn)

"You're not going to believe me, I know, but it's the God's truth. But I can walk on water."

Harry was right, nobody believed his ridiculous statement. "Don't give Harry any more beer, he's hallucinating!", “Someone send for a doctor,” “Harry's having a funny turn." Harry's fellow drinkers shook their heads and laughed.

But Harry hadn't finished. He was adamant. "I knew you were going to say that, which is why,

tomorrow morning, I'm going to prove it to you. You won't be laughing then! I'm going to walk on the water down Milford Beach and you can all come and see for yourselves."

For the remainder of that Saturday night the only topic of conversation was the walk on the water. Harry insisted that he'd perfected a technique which would prevent him sinking even though it sounded impossible. He'd discovered the art by accident and having practised in secret was now ready to show the world.

He'd organised for a boat to take him 100 yards out (it was before metres had been invented) from the slip and he would then step out of the boat and walk back to shore.

The following morning, on Milford Beach, hundreds of people had gathered to see Harry. Word had spread like wildfire through all the pubs in Charles Street, and families, some who were still dressed in their church going attire, others with sandwiches and picnics, had arrived to cheer a new Milford hero.

"Harry, the man who could walk on water." There was an air of excitement. It was a ludicrous claim but by then, it had been rumoured that Harry'd already seen him walking on the waters of Pill.

At noon, a boatman rowed Harry, who was also dressed in his Sunday best, out into deep, choppy waters of Milford Beach. Cheers rang out from the crowded shore as Harry raised his bowler hat, bowed majestically and stepped out of the boat.

Being a non-swimmer, Harry sank like a stone and was immediately dragged, coughing and spluttering, back into the boat and returned, shivering, to dry land.

"I really thought I could do it!"

Western Telegraph: The beach in Milford.The beach in Milford. (Image: Jeff Dunn)

Harry's flamboyant failure disappointed no one, and became one of my grandfather's favourite tales, and each time I see a pic of Milford Beach, or the Commercial, it reminds me of it.

In those days, Milford was blessed with more than its fair share of characters, and undoubtedly Harry was one of them.

Here are old pics of the Commercial and Milford Beach.

That's just about it from me but I leave you with this quote from Seneca: "No one's so old that he doesn't think he could hope for one more day."

Take care, please stay safe.