Queen Street - Louis Abbott, Decorator

Memories - Louis Abbott Decorator

By David Middleton

Queen's Street - Old Coop  - 1st building LHS
Queen's Street - Old Coop - 1st building LHS
Queen's Street - View to New Coop
Queen's Street - View to New Coop

Mr. Louis Abbott ‘Painter and Decorator and Sign Writer who lived in the house integral with the old Co-op

Mr and Mrs Abbott lived there and their grandson lived with them as well. Now up the yard was a little cage and they had a magpie in it. Why do you remember these things as a child. Now Lou, Mr Abbott was a painter and decorator and a sign writer. He’d do sign writing and he did some sign writing for somebody on a vehicle and he said ‘Oh I’m not going to pay all that for it’. So Louis Abbott immediately rubbed it out and he said ‘Oh I didn’t want you to do that can you put it on again please.’ So he did it again and charged him twice. He said ‘What did you do… ‘ well he said ‘I have done it once and I’ve had to do it again.’ So he had to pay double.

Peter ToppsĀ  – From BLHS Archive Interview, December 2006

This page was added on 12/12/2006.

Comments about this page

  • Louis Abbott was my Grandfather. I was always told that the writing in front of the Coronation Seat was done by him. He did it freehand with his finger!

    By Ian Abbott (27/11/2007)
  • The three storey building (C1790) in the centre of the photo was the location of HOBSONS CHOICE Drugstore from 1983-88 and my home until 1998.

    By Alan F Millership (10/03/2009)
  • A Visit to Grandad’s. In the centre of Queen street was my Grandad’s place, Half Co-op shop, half house, A dark and scary place. I’d enter round the backyard – Not the front parlour door. ‘tween boxes, crates and sack bags and bottles by the score. Next door was old Mr Greeves’ bike shop A graveyard of cycle frames-stacked to the top There was Maggie in a cage, a pet magpie I was told, Don’t know why she was kept there she was pretty sad and old. At the back of the yard, were the co-op shop stores ‘cept for one which was Granddad’s where he carried out his chores He’d mend things … And bodge them … Always making do. A painter, a preacher, a pianist, A sign writer and a cobbler too. On nails on the wall hung old tools worn and rusty. He’d store coal and logs, I can still smell it, so musty. I’d go through the kitchen past the pump and stone sink Into the living room now time to stop and think. Granddad sat in his armchair, coals glowed in the old black range Watching his black and white telly Nothing ever seemed to change. On the mantelpiece lay his pipe, And two tiny leather clogs, Who had owned them? – My uncle I was told he died when he was two. His Grandfather clock guarded the corner Counting seconds, in pride of place It was growing old, worn and faded So he’d repainted the face! Into the front parlour, Seldom used, always neat His harmonium, and….His piano, The torture stool and his seat. We’d start the piano lesson Then with fear I would start shake ‘cos I’d cry as he’d start to shout at me when I made a mistake? My lessons didn’t last forever, Pianos and me didn’t get far I was much happier years later, perfecting the guitar. Seems like just yesterday I remember the scene just fine. Was it only yesterday Or was it? 1959

    By Ian Abbott (16/04/2012)

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