Until this week, I thought TV charity events were exclusively a BBC affair, what with Children in Need, Comic Relief and its slightly more serious partner Sport Relief.

Then, while trawling through the Watford Observer archive last Friday, I discovered the story HERE which features Watford FC players Luther Blissett and Liburd Henry at an ITV Telethon in 1988.

Now I was already well into my 20s by 1988, so I ought to remember it well (Live Aid was three years earlier and I certainly remember that).

And yet I have no recollection of it at all. It seems that the 1988 ITV Telethon was the first of three – the others were in 1990 and 1992 – which lasted for 27 hours non-stop, in the days when TV channels generally closed with the National Anthem and that annoying ‘beep’ not long after midnight.

Thames TV held a couple of such events in the 1980s which were deemed such a local success, ITV decided to put on a national event over the entire network on May 29 and 30 1988, involving participation and input from all of the regional broadcasters around the country.

It had the aim of raising money for disability charities across the country.
The ever-popular Michael Aspel – very much ITV’s Terry Wogan – fronted the shows and the final one, it seems, raised £15 million.

Quite why they didn’t do telethons these days, I don’t know (although the Text Santa event at Christmas seems to have become an annual fixture).

Maybe they thought that with Children in Need (which started in 1980) and Comic Relief (1988), their one made it one telethon too many; after all, there must be a finite amount of cash available. But whatever, it was clearly fun while it lasted, as the picture shows.

That said, it wasn’t just national fundraisers who had good ideas when it comes to raising cash. Just one week after the picture on the left appeared, the Watford Observer reported on a fun run with a difference taking place as part of the Bushey Show festivities.

The idea of this “vegetable flavoured” event was for all the competitors at the fun run... to carry a marrow.

Organised by Bushey and Oxhey Rotary Club and sponsored by an Oxhey toolhire company, The Hire-Tech Rotary Hill Marrowfun, on August Bank Holiday Monday, was to cover a distance of roughly three and a half miles – carrying a marrow.

Rotary Community Services team chairman Ken Moxley, a Bushey policeman, said at the time: “The idea is that it is a fun thing and while we expect serious runners to take part, we also expect a large number of people who will run or walk dressed up and clown around to raise money.”

The article stated “prizes will be awarded for the best fancy dress costumes and marrow decorations” and while I didn’t get the chance to go forward a few months and check out what the contestants looked like, all being well I will later in the year.

Not all events go to plan, however, and knowing how much effort goes into preparing for county shows, I felt very sorry for the organisers of the Hertfordshire Show 1972, which blew everyone away – almost literally.

It would be remembered, the Watford Observer of June 2, 1972 claimed, “as the day the wind blew”.

And they weren’t kidding, The wind “flattened a huge dog tent, in which two people were hurt and an escaping collie killed when it ran onto the M1.”
Wind “whisked another marquee over the fence on to the A5, causing £2,000 worth of damage the night before the show.”

It also “gave a gang of workmen two sleepless nights as the battled with several square miles of canvas to keep the show from blowing away.”
And “blew the floral arrangements over in the horticultural marquee as fast as they could be judged.”

In fact, as the Observer pointed out, over the years the Hertfordshire Show has seen all sorts of weather, even snow, “but gales are the real nightmare”.
And yet despite that, the show was still a success, raising as much money as it had the previous year.

For the full story, let’s return to 1972. “It was just after Prime Minister Mr Heath had left at about 1pm that disaster struck the show, when a dog marquee was blown over by the high winds. There were about 300 dogs inside,” the report says.

“One woman who saw the tent blown down said: ‘Suddenly the wind blew in at one end and lifted that part of the tent, then the main pole split at the top and the canvas ripped.’

“Police and helpers tried vainly to hold the guy ropes at the flapping side of the tent while people led dogs to safety. They could not hold on for long, but it was long enough for all the dogs to get out.

“The two injured people were taken to Luton and Dunstable Hospital in an ambulance belonging to the St John Ambulance Brigade, which was at the show.

“Said a gate steward who helped police hang on to the tent: ‘The rope just flew through our hands as we tried to grip. My hands were burned by it.’

“The other dog tent was then abandoned as a safety precaution and owners waited in the open for the judging. This tent was a replacement for the one which blew on to the A5 on Friday night and was badly damaged.”

After all the excitement, the report goes on to the more mundane matter of what you could see at the show including a fashion show and demonstrations.
The report continues: “Displays during the day included the famous Dagenham Girl Pipers, who got a big reception, although it was not quite the weather for kilts!”

Moving swiftly on, two years earlier, the Watford Observer included another way of raising money – although it could involve knocking down a church and, even if you got away with that, there seems some doubt as to whether there would be any money obtained at the end anyway.

The story was told in the Watford Observer of June 12, 1970, and I’d love to know if there was ever any follow up.

“Is there a small fortune buried somewhere in the walls of Watford Parish Church? At least one Watford family feels certain there is.”

That’s how the article started, almost immediately pouring cold water on your excitement by adding: “Official records, however, indicate this is most unlikely, if not impossible.”

The story continues: “It was upon reading that a 1933 penny was extremely rare and worth several thousand pounds that a Watford bricklayer, who wishes to remain anonymous, recalled the day when he was working on the choir vestry extension to Watford Parish Church.

“Because it seemed to be the customary thing to do, he placed four coins in a matchbox, together with his name and those of his workmates, and buried it somewhere in the flint wall.”

The idea of burying a coin (or coins) under the foundation stone of a building seems to be an ancient one. It was believed to bring prosperity to the owner, the idea being that the owner of the house will never be down to their last penny since there will always be one under the house itself. Fanciful, I know, but that’s superstition for you.

The coin, usually a penny but florins were popular too, also needed to be new and dated the same as the house, so I suppose it was also a way of finding out when the building was built – mind you, it seems a bit extreme to knock the building down to see how old it is! If anyone knows any more about this superstition – do builders still do it and, if not, when did the practice stop? – do please write and let us know.

Anyway, back to June 1970.

“At that time a young man who had just finished his apprenticeship, the builder recalls quite clearly going into a bank and asking for a farthing, a halfpenny, a penny and a silver threepenny piece minted in that particular year. And the year, he says, must have been 1933.

“According to official records, however, it is just not possible that the buried matchbox contains a 1933 penny. A spokesman for the Royal Mint said: ‘All the 1933 pennies known to have been struck have been accounted for, so it is unlikely the story is correct.’

“And as for a 1933 penny having been obtained from a local bank, the spokesman said: ‘That would be impossible because no 1933 pennies were circulated.’

“But can they be sure? Until a seventh turned up a year ago, it was thought only six were minted. Three of these are in museums, two are under the foundation stones of Yorkshire churches and one lies beneath the University buildings in London.

“Whatever the experts say, the wife of the Watford bricklayer who buried the coins is convinced the year was 1933 and she has good reason to remember – ‘I was courting him at the time,’ she says.

“And ‘just in case’ she has passed on to her grandchildren the knowledge that somewhere in the walls of St Mary’s there are some coins ‘buried’ by their grandfather, one of which might be extremely valuable.”

Mind you, whether there’s a valuable coin there or not, it’s certainly true that you can find some weird things in walls, as is demonstrated by the story HERE.
It may be rare, but I’m not sure anyone would give you much for it!