Tales of a Tyreman Part 2

From Being Sacked to Finding My True Calling

In the previous chapter of Tales of a Tyreman, I described my first job in the motor trade at Phillips Brothers Auto Repairs in Carlinghow, Batley. It was where I first learned the basics of mechanics, met some colourful characters and discovered that the garage trade could be just as challenging as it was rewarding.

Unfortunately, my time there was about to come to an unexpected end.

Growing Up in the 1960s

Looking back now, life in the mid-1960s was very different from today. I was still only seventeen years old, enjoying evenings at local youth clubs, spending time with friends and beginning to enjoy the independence that came with earning my own wages.

At home, things were changing too.

Dad had finally passed his driving test on his third attempt and proudly bought an old Vauxhall Victor. Like many working-class families at the time, owning a car represented real progress. It gave us freedom that previous generations could only dream about.

I had also recently passed my own driving test, which opened up new opportunities at the garage. Suddenly I was trusted to collect spare parts, deliver customers’ vehicles and occasionally road-test cars after repairs had been completed.

For a young apprentice, it felt like a promotion.

Becoming the Workshop Scapegoat

Sadly, things inside the workshop were becoming more difficult.

The foreman, David, had somehow convinced himself that somebody had sabotaged his supply of condoms by pricking holes in them.

Even after all these years I still have absolutely no idea who actually did it.

Unfortunately for me, David decided I was the guilty party.

From then on, I seemed to become the target for every practical joke in the workshop. Looking back today, much of what happened simply wouldn’t be tolerated in a modern workplace, but back then apprentices were expected to take it on the chin.

The Exploding Wood Burner

One cold winter morning summed it all up.

The workshop was heated by an old wood-burning stove, and as the youngest member of staff, it was usually my job to light it before everyone else arrived.

In winter we would all sit around the lit stove to try keep warm, while we ate our sandwiches.

I carefully filled the stove with wood and struck a match.

Unknown to me, somebody had poured petrol inside.

The explosion was unbelievable.

One moment I was standing in front of the stove; the next I found myself flying backwards through the air and landing in the inspection pit.

Fortunately, I escaped with nothing worse than a severe fright.

Everyone else thought it was hilarious.

Tom, one of the owners, certainly didn’t.

He demanded to know who was responsible, but nobody admitted anything.

I had my suspicions, but no proof.

The Bucket of Icy Water

A few weeks later came the incident that finally sealed my fate.

Heavy rain had caused the nearby beck to overflow, flooding the inspection pit with freezing, filthy water. Normally nobody would have worked underneath a vehicle in those conditions.

David thought differently.

He instructed me to climb into the flooded pit and grease a customer’s car.

As an apprentice in those days, you generally did as you were told.

Pulling on a pair of oversized wellington boots, I climbed into the icy water and carried out the job.

By the time I emerged, I was soaked through, freezing cold and more than a little annoyed.

Then I noticed an empty oil bucket.

An idea suddenly came into my head.

I filled it with the freezing water from the pit, quietly walked behind David and tipped the entire bucket over him.

The aim couldn’t have been better.

He was absolutely drenched.

The whole workshop fell silent.

For a few seconds nobody moved.

Then complete chaos broke out.

To be fair to David, he never laid a finger on me.

Instead, I was summoned straight into Tom’s office.

Sacked!

The verdict was short and to the point.

I was sacked.

There were no lengthy disciplinary procedures in those days. No meetings. No appeals. If the boss decided you were finished, that was the end of it.

Walking home towards Dewsbury Moor, I genuinely thought my career in the motor trade had ended before it had really begun.

Mum wasn’t particularly pleased either.

Not because I’d lost the job, but because every wage mattered in our household. We weren’t a wealthy family, and every pound I brought home helped.

Looking Back with a Smile

Looking back now, I can smile about the whole episode.

In truth, I probably deserved to lose my job after emptying a bucket of filthy water over the foreman!

I was always something of a cheeky chappy.

I had my own opinions, I enjoyed a laugh, and I was never afraid to answer back if I felt something wasn’t right.

At the time, I saw those qualities as faults.

Years later I realised they actually became some of my greatest strengths.

Being able to chat easily with complete strangers, break the ice with customers and build relationships with suppliers helped me enormously throughout my business career.

Sometimes the characteristics that get you into trouble when you’re young become the very qualities that help you succeed later in life.

A New Beginning at W. Briggs

Fortunately, fate had other plans for me.

Only about a mile from our house was a tyre company called W. Briggs.

They were looking for an apprentice tyre fitter.

I put on my best clothes, cleaned myself up and went for the interview.

The manager asked what experience I had.

Thankfully, I could honestly tell him that I already knew how to jack up cars, remove wheels and repair punctures.

Those few skills, learnt at Phillips Brothers, suddenly became far more valuable than I’d ever imagined.

The interview was brief.

To my delight, I was offered the job there and then.

Walking home that afternoon, I had absolutely no idea that I had just taken the first real step towards a career that would last more than sixty years.

Being sacked from Phillips Brothers had felt like the end of the world.

In reality, it was one of the best things that ever happened to me.

Sometimes life closes one door only because something much better is waiting behind the next one.

Next Time…

My first days at W. Briggs – where my lifelong love affair with the tyre trade truly began.

Tales of a Tyreman Part 2