deb ashworth

Back in the day my parents ran the pub. Fred and Barbara Lavender. Some people will remember them. They ran the pub from about '72 to '76. Three to four years. When my parents moved in it was Watches of Switzerland on the ground floor at the front. I wasn't allowed a key, so if my mum and dad weren't in when I came home from school and rang the doorbell – because they were at the cash and carry or whatever – I used to look at the watches in Watches of Switzerland. All the Rolexes and the Omega. And I thought One day I'm gunna have one of them. I would have been a young and impressionable teenager then. So lots of memories of what happened in the Tavern. Lots of interesting people.

The Tavern was largely, timbered inside… rough-cast plaster with timber battens on it painted black and white to look olde-worlde. Then whilst we were there, probably not long after we went in, the brewery had somebody come and paint some murals. They also did some work on the bar top. I think they put a copper bar top on it. And lamps. At the time when we went there the glasses were hanging up, but I think they made them take all those down because of hygiene. The seats were re-covered and they were done in sort of red moquette. The bar was on the left. There were some cellar steps inside the accommodation door but that had been blocked off. You couldn’t get down the cellar from there, so the only access to the cellar was at the back of the pub at the Woolpack Alley end.

We had a counter put in by the door to the accommodation because Mom used to cook a big piece of pork, and set that counter up with hot pork sandwiches. 

Some of the photos I have from this time are taken by Alf Higgins, who was a professional photographer. He worked for an Express & Star publication called the Wolverhampton Magazine and he used to come in and drink gin and bitter lemon. He called it gin and Harpic. So he must have come in for a gin and Harpic, seen it had been redone, got his camera out, and taken some photographs.

When we were there you went in through the door of the pub and down past the booths to begin with, and then as you turned right to go to the accommodation I think the jukebox was there on the right hand side, just tucked in between the accommodation door and the entrance to the pub proper. Later on the jukebox was moved, and it was down the other end, on the wall. It was one of these where you flipped it, like a book, you know. There might have been a one-arm bandit. It just wasn't the thing then that you had loads of entertainment in the pub. You went to the pub to have a drink and meet your mates. I do vaguely remember us having some sort of a pinball machine but that was probably right at the very end of when we were there.

I suppose the culture was just changing wasn't it, you know.

When my mom and dad were there, we did used to have a few Angels come in. My dad didn’t mind, as long as they behaved themselves. Which they didn’t always do. But if they didn’t behave themselves, they were out. No messing. Out. And they respected that, you know. But yeah, they generally behaved themselves. But I think my mom and dad wanted to keep the Tavern a balance. They didn’t want it to become a pub which was only frequented by rockers, or Hells Angels, or whatever. Because then I think they probably realised, looking back, that if they did that then a lot of the other people would go. 

Lunchtimes you used to get a lot of people from the bank and what have you. Hence the pork sandwiches. The lunchtime trade was very buoyant, actually. It attracted all sorts of people, and I can remember my dad's cousin coming in with her baby, wheeling the pushchair in just to come and say hello. 

When I was at the Municipal Grammar School, which is now the Newhampton Arts Centre, the sixth formers used to come in at lunchtime for a pint.

In the week I'd come home, but instead of doing my homework like I was supposed to, I’d drift down to the pub in the evenings to see who was in there, and then at the weekend I'd do the glass collecting and what have you. So I spent quite a bit of time just floating around in the pub. So I was mixing with all these people – some of whom were probably a bit edgy, because we had quite a few drug addicts go in there at the time. 

In fact, I can remember being at school and they showed us a film…the perils of drug addiction…and the guy in the film was a regular in the pub. I was sat next to my best friend, who I'm still friends with now.  And I said Oh my God, he comes in the pub. I probably didn't realise up until then that he was an addict, but, you know, seeing him on a screen, that was it. 

My mom befriended a little lady who used to come in. She was an antique dealer and an alcoholic. It could have gone so horribly wrong as a fourteen-year-old mixing with all those people, but I suppose it shaped me, because you got a real insight into what life was like. 

Some of the barmaids that we used to have on a Saturday night, they'd do their shift and then they'd go up into the toilets and get changed to go to the Laff. And I used to go up there as a young teenager, watching these girls getting ready. I wanted to go there too.

You ever heard of Terry Downes, the boxer? He used to come to the pub. He lived in Mill Hill, I think, in London, and he got friendly with my dad somehow or other. I don’t know where or when or what, but he used to come and stay at the pub. He was a lovely guy, but every other word was f***. And in those days, it was shocking. My parents would say When Terry’s here, keep out of the way. And he’d say Cam ’ere, darlin’. I want you to go out the way, because I’m swearin’ too much. Here’s a fiver. Go off into town and buy yourself something. And a fiver then would be a lot of money, you know.

And we used to have a lot of Wolves players come in as well. A lot. 

Did The Tavern really have that bad reputation? See to me...it was just home.