I spotted it at the car boot. Things like this attract me. I took a closer look. It was an old scrapbook.
The original owner's name, address... and even his age, were clearly written inside the front cover.
I guess for most of the rummaging crowd it was worthless junk... but for me it was a priceless artefact. Not in the monetary sense, but in a simple nostalgic way.
On close inspection I discovered it was an 11 year old schoolboy's prized collection of 1950s cutaway illustrations from the Eagle comic.
Each page of the scrapbook was lined with the vivid draughtsman diagrams of artist, L. Aswell Wood. I noted the comic pages were dated between 1954-56.
And what's more... each diagram had been meticulously cut out and conscientiously pasted into place, back then; in the mid 20th century; by a young boy who would now be in his early 70s.
The heavy card pages had turned brown with age and carried the reassuring aroma of old paper and ancient glue. At a quick glance I could see the scrapbook contained a wealth of themes.
These ranged from the humble 15 ton steam roller, which was once a regular sight on our roads, and was often accompanied by the strong smell of bubbling tarmac...
through to the prospect of an environmentally clean atomic power station... and a futuristic Atomic Airliner which would travel at 10.000 m.p.h.
There were exciting record breaking boats, planes, cars and trains. The Duke's Helicopter and a Royal Car rubbed shoulders with the wonders of atomic age engineering.
Cross section drawings revealed the secret inner workings of what was then, cutting edge technology and design.
The illustrations gave full colour visions of an optimistic future from the viewpoint of a post-war monochrome world.
The diagrams were a products of their time; they supported the narrative that Great Britain was an important member of the technological avant-garde,
pioneering the way towards a better world with our steam roller and our mobile dental clinic.
I lost track of time and place as the noisy car boot hustled and bustled in detached silence around me.
Holding the heavy scrapbook, I could almost feel the lingering dedication and enthusiasm the original owner must have felt, each time he carefully added another cutaway to his encyclopaedic collection.
Thank you John Layton, age 11, for creating this colour snapshot of a childhood past... wonder whatever became of you old fella?
Tony K
