Comments on: Rose At The Golden Heart

By: Ian Silverton

Ian Silverton — Fri, 23 Oct 2020 07:49:17 +0000

Nice storey that, what a nice Publican very kind heart, pubs at that time where always full of Rose,Harry, Jo, and Irene, drinking pints or jugs of Guinness, Bitter, Rum, Ale, smoking 20 woodbines as they did so, they where all part of the pub furniture, always asking for a Gin and Tonic when the local bookmaker walked in, never any trouble, always happy and a ready smile, until they came no more, we always for some unknown reason put a Black painted board outside in case the hearse should pass bye. Another life another world the old East End then. Keep safe UK, but get out and abo ut

By: Pamela Traves

Pamela Traves — Fri, 23 Oct 2020 07:12:45 +0000

Rose was a Special, Lovely Lady. I’m So Happy I know Dear Rose.?????????

By: Maureen Saunders

Maureen Saunders — Fri, 23 Oct 2020 05:56:42 +0000

Love this story … Thankyou

By: Sharon

Sharon — Thu, 22 Oct 2020 21:16:43 +0000

How sad that Rose was treated so but how fortunate to find such a truly great friend. Sandra has a heart of gold, I can feel the warmth of her kindness away up here in chilly Scotland. Phil Maxwell’s photos are just perfect. Thank you GA

By: Linda Granfield

Linda Granfield — Thu, 22 Oct 2020 15:37:58 +0000

I am so hoping one of your readers can supply more information about Rose.
She may have ‘vanished’ but thanks to you, GA, and Sandra E. she is still among us.

Thanks for sharing her story.

By: M D West

M D West — Thu, 22 Oct 2020 15:03:14 +0000

Is that last shot tinted (colourized), or were they all shot in colour?

By: Elizabeth Smith

Elizabeth Smith — Thu, 22 Oct 2020 12:13:23 +0000

I love this story, partly for itself and partly because there was a woman called Rose who lodged in our house in Stratford in the 1950’s. My parents didn’t know she was a drinker, she was intelligent and interested in my two older sisters and me. She taught my eldest sister the Pythagorus theory because she hadn’t been listening in class. Rose used to talk about a child who we thought was in a home somewhere but we never knew the details. Mum had to ask her to leave when she started leaving cigarettes burning on cushions etc and was a fire hazard . Also we lived in a rented house and shouldn’t have sublet.We never heard from her again Mum use to sigh and say ‘ Poor Rose I wonder what became of her ‘ .Perhaps, perhaps, this is our Rose.

By: paul loften

paul loften — Thu, 22 Oct 2020 10:58:44 +0000

What a shame that Rose is not here to tell her story. It would have been riveting for all of us. We have to be grateful for what the Gentle Author, Sandra Esqulant and Phil Maxwell have brought to us. Big cities everywhere have many people like Rose who live in and out of hostels and frequent their favorite haunts that give them perhaps their only source of pleasure and comfort in life. I once drove from Brittany to Brussels to visit my wife’s sister. Our children were tired and hungry so we stopped off in Paris and looked for a hotel. for some reason, we could not find one. perhaps they were all full and it was late at night. The only place open was a McDonalds and we sat there for hours. The only people there were the homeless. One woman near us sat there writing pages and pages non stop totally and utterly immersed in her writing. The pages lay there on the table. I would have loved to have just read just a little of what she had written.

By: Valerie

Valerie — Thu, 22 Oct 2020 10:31:13 +0000

Wow…

This is a sock in the jaw account – dumbfoundingly profound. It speaks of a pubs & territorial era in London which seems like a far away dream. 40 yrs at the ‘Sally Army’? Would not happen today with the numbers of homeless today….would it? A slower pace of life years ago and maybe a post-war sensibility? What a remarkable pub landlady. And how tantalising to not know Rose’s life story. Reminds me of an older lady I used to draw at St Martin’s evening classes in the 1970’s for some reason: mysteriously evocative Madeleine who was said to also serve at soup kitchens. Lives lived in the crevices & interstices of life. Haunting.,

By: Whim Penny

Whim Penny — Thu, 22 Oct 2020 10:20:23 +0000

That’s a heartbreaker. All praise to you for looking out for. The Salvation Army could take a page from your book.