Goodbye to the Evening Standard:
19th September 2024 and the end of a London commuter era.
Orpington is principally known as a London commuter suburb. Many thousand of its residents travel by rail to London on weekday mornings and home again at the close of the working day. They have done so ever since the railway came to Orpington and especially so since the line was electrified in the 1920s. It's a sure bet therefore that reading a London evening newspaper has been a long-embedded part of the rush-hour routine for legions of Orpington commuters. Certainly the editors of such newspapers have always had a keen eye for a headline that will grab the attention of readers teeming towards the bus stops or the tube and railway stations to start their homeward journeys. Sixty years ago in September 1964 for example the Evening Standard had their readers trembling at the prospect of fares going up.
In the Sherlock Holmes short story The Blue Carbuncle Holmes decides upon a ruse to try and trap a jewel thief. He commands Peterson, the commissionaire of the apartment block at 221B Baker Street, to place an advertisement in the London evening newspapers. He goes on to name an abundance of them: the Globe, Star, Pall Mall, St James’s Gazette, Evening News, Standard, Echo plus any others that the sender can think of.
That is certainly a throwback to late Victorian times when London commuters such as Charles Pooter (The Diary of a Nobody, 1892) had plenty of choice if they wanted to purchase an evening newspaper to read on the train home.
By the time that I became a nine-to-five London commuter travelling on the Orpington line in 1966 there were only two evening newspapers: the Evening Standard and Evening News. In those days you had to buy your daily copy. Eventually the Evening News closed and the Evening Standard was left to battle against a steady decline in sales numbers as evening commuters increasingly chose to rely on hand-held gadgets for supply of news and entertainment. Offering itself as a free giveaway sustained the Evening Standard for a while but the 19th September 2024 hailed the end of an era. It might have seemed unthinkable to Charles Pooter in 1892 and to me in 1966 but there is no longer a London evening newspaper being published in print any more now.
19th September 2024 and the end of a London commuter era.
Orpington is principally known as a London commuter suburb. Many thousand of its residents travel by rail to London on weekday mornings and home again at the close of the working day. They have done so ever since the railway came to Orpington and especially so since the line was electrified in the 1920s. It's a sure bet therefore that reading a London evening newspaper has been a long-embedded part of the rush-hour routine for legions of Orpington commuters. Certainly the editors of such newspapers have always had a keen eye for a headline that will grab the attention of readers teeming towards the bus stops or the tube and railway stations to start their homeward journeys. Sixty years ago in September 1964 for example the Evening Standard had their readers trembling at the prospect of fares going up.
In the Sherlock Holmes short story The Blue Carbuncle Holmes decides upon a ruse to try and trap a jewel thief. He commands Peterson, the commissionaire of the apartment block at 221B Baker Street, to place an advertisement in the London evening newspapers. He goes on to name an abundance of them: the Globe, Star, Pall Mall, St James’s Gazette, Evening News, Standard, Echo plus any others that the sender can think of.
That is certainly a throwback to late Victorian times when London commuters such as Charles Pooter (The Diary of a Nobody, 1892) had plenty of choice if they wanted to purchase an evening newspaper to read on the train home.
By the time that I became a nine-to-five London commuter travelling on the Orpington line in 1966 there were only two evening newspapers: the Evening Standard and Evening News. In those days you had to buy your daily copy. Eventually the Evening News closed and the Evening Standard was left to battle against a steady decline in sales numbers as evening commuters increasingly chose to rely on hand-held gadgets for supply of news and entertainment. Offering itself as a free giveaway sustained the Evening Standard for a while but the 19th September 2024 hailed the end of an era. It might have seemed unthinkable to Charles Pooter in 1892 and to me in 1966 but there is no longer a London evening newspaper being published in print any more now.
The Thursday 19th September 2024 edition of the Evening Standard bore the usual legend ‘West End Final’ above the banner headline but on this occasion the words applied literally. Dylan Jones the Editor-in-Chief declared: ‘Today is the final daily issue of the Evening Standard.’ He went on to explain that in its new manifestation as ‘a vibrant, culturally rich weekly newspaper’ it would henceforth be named The London Standard.
Jonathan Prynn the Business Editor asserted in this very last daily issue of the Evening Standard that ‘London marches on with its ever greater City.’ Mr Prynn held that despite all that has been thrown at it in recent years he remains supremely confident about the City of London’s prospects. ‘It is reinventing itself, as London always has down the centuries. London is now by far the biggest tech hub in Europe and its strength in financial services means it is the preeminent fintech centre on the planet.'
Jonathan Prynn the Business Editor asserted in this very last daily issue of the Evening Standard that ‘London marches on with its ever greater City.’ Mr Prynn held that despite all that has been thrown at it in recent years he remains supremely confident about the City of London’s prospects. ‘It is reinventing itself, as London always has down the centuries. London is now by far the biggest tech hub in Europe and its strength in financial services means it is the preeminent fintech centre on the planet.'
Leonard Barden's record-breaking long-life daily chess column in the Evening Standard newspaper.
The England chess international Leonard Barden began his daily chess column for the Evening Standard in 1956. At the time of my writing this in September 2024 he is still there! – holding a record surely for long-running journalism. Born in Croydon in 1929 he was joint British chess champion in 1955. He is now 95 years old.
By time of my retirement as a London nine-to-five commuter in 2013 Mr Barden’s daily chess column had been relegated from the printed to the online edition of the Evening Standard. Puzzle page editors had to attune to new and changing popular trends during my forty-six years commuting span. Undoubtedly the most dramatic change that I witnessed was droves of my fellow-commuters becoming Sudoku addicts. This numbers-game (exported from Japan) achieved mass popularity within an instant of British newspapers testing it with their readers.
Noting too that several book readers were switching to a Kindle and that fellow passengers increasingly were becoming converts to hand-held devices equipped with computer-games I could certainly declare in 2013 that the pastimes engaged in by London commuters during bus, train and tube rides had changed significantly since I had started work in 1966.
Speaking on BBC radio in the 1960s Leonard Barden made a very amusing and self-deprecating confession that he had lost a London League game to P.H. Clarke in just nine moves. 'The major error I made was to sit down at the board at all. I had just lost the British championship play-off to Penrose, I was suffering from unrequited love, I was moving house, and I had the deadline for a book (which I’d hardly started) just a few weeks away.'
The England chess international Leonard Barden began his daily chess column for the Evening Standard in 1956. At the time of my writing this in September 2024 he is still there! – holding a record surely for long-running journalism. Born in Croydon in 1929 he was joint British chess champion in 1955. He is now 95 years old.
By time of my retirement as a London nine-to-five commuter in 2013 Mr Barden’s daily chess column had been relegated from the printed to the online edition of the Evening Standard. Puzzle page editors had to attune to new and changing popular trends during my forty-six years commuting span. Undoubtedly the most dramatic change that I witnessed was droves of my fellow-commuters becoming Sudoku addicts. This numbers-game (exported from Japan) achieved mass popularity within an instant of British newspapers testing it with their readers.
Noting too that several book readers were switching to a Kindle and that fellow passengers increasingly were becoming converts to hand-held devices equipped with computer-games I could certainly declare in 2013 that the pastimes engaged in by London commuters during bus, train and tube rides had changed significantly since I had started work in 1966.
Speaking on BBC radio in the 1960s Leonard Barden made a very amusing and self-deprecating confession that he had lost a London League game to P.H. Clarke in just nine moves. 'The major error I made was to sit down at the board at all. I had just lost the British championship play-off to Penrose, I was suffering from unrequited love, I was moving house, and I had the deadline for a book (which I’d hardly started) just a few weeks away.'
Cartoon Commuter: Fondly remembering Bristow
Commuters returning home after a weary day in the office could seek amusement and relief by turning to the long-running Bristow cartoon series that ran in the Evening Standard in the 1960s and 1970s. Frank Dickens (1930 - 2016) offered humour and satire of the gentle variety, appealing to the sympathies of readers that he knew would readily identify with the office situations faced by the lowly clerk with the ever-present smile beneath his toothbrush moustache.
We Orpington residents can't claim Bristow as one of our own in the same way that we can claim ownership of Reginald Iolanthe Perrin another famous fictional office rebel. It was David Nobbs born in Orpington in 1936 that created Reggie Perrin and set him in similar comic situations railing against the absurdity and monotony of conducting office business in the big city. Set against the modern-day harsher and sharper cynical humour of cartoon strips such as Alex in the City of London's financial district the era of Bristow as a humble buying clerk seems almost sepia-toned now in its innocence and fun. Let's celebrate the especially endearing fact that Bristow always was nice and polite to the tea-ladies!
Jerry Dowlen's book The City of London: Wandering and Wondering contains chapters about office cartoon humour and about London evening newspapers. A new second edition of the book will be published in the Autumn 2024.
Commuters returning home after a weary day in the office could seek amusement and relief by turning to the long-running Bristow cartoon series that ran in the Evening Standard in the 1960s and 1970s. Frank Dickens (1930 - 2016) offered humour and satire of the gentle variety, appealing to the sympathies of readers that he knew would readily identify with the office situations faced by the lowly clerk with the ever-present smile beneath his toothbrush moustache.
We Orpington residents can't claim Bristow as one of our own in the same way that we can claim ownership of Reginald Iolanthe Perrin another famous fictional office rebel. It was David Nobbs born in Orpington in 1936 that created Reggie Perrin and set him in similar comic situations railing against the absurdity and monotony of conducting office business in the big city. Set against the modern-day harsher and sharper cynical humour of cartoon strips such as Alex in the City of London's financial district the era of Bristow as a humble buying clerk seems almost sepia-toned now in its innocence and fun. Let's celebrate the especially endearing fact that Bristow always was nice and polite to the tea-ladies!
Jerry Dowlen's book The City of London: Wandering and Wondering contains chapters about office cartoon humour and about London evening newspapers. A new second edition of the book will be published in the Autumn 2024.