Goodnight Bounder

Written by Dave


Alan Parr passed away peacefully, in the wee small hours of this morning, in Mersey Park Nursing Home, he was 82 years of age.

Alan Parr, better known by his nom-de-ale as Bounder, was one of those wonderful characters that are sadly disappearing from our society. His appearance in the Lion, on a wet Tuesday afternoon, would invariably raise the spirits, conversation and merriment would follow with Bounder at the hub of it, his eyes smiling as he told tall tales, reeled of facts about obscure Scottish football sides and insisted on buying all and sundry more beer.

He was a war baby, born in Sefton General, and brought up in the Welsh Streets off Park Road. He worked extensively in the shipping industry and then for the GPO. A lot of the details of his early life are a bit sketchy. This is partly due to Alan’s sense of humour. He never let facts get in the way of a good story, especially if he was telling it to somebody who was meeting him for the first time, then the telling of the tale became far more important than its’ actual veracity. Indeed, his nickname the Bounder was something of a mystery. One tale he told was that he was at Cheltenham for the Gold Cup, wearing a trilby hat, and was told that he looked like Peter Bowles in the sit-com The Bounder. Another story, that I quite like to believe was true, was that he was called ‘a cad and a bounder’ by a lady for being less than faithful to her.

Part of his endearing charm was that you could never be bored in his company. He was full of sporting knowledge, two of his major loves being Everton and Lancashire County Cricket Club. He was also a student of history, especially Scottish history, and woe betide anyone who suggested that he may be factually incorrect. His ‘No, no, no lad’ has been heard up and down Dale Street. Another of his great loves was music. He had very wide-ranging musical taste, from the Big Band Sound of the Fifties, through to the skiffle of Lonnie Donegan and early Rock and Roll of Tommy Steele, and a long running love affair with Doris Day. One of my favourite memories of Alan was conducting the bar of the Lion in the singing of ‘The Deadwood Stage Is Coming On Over The Hills’, complete with the obligatory ‘Whip Crack Aways’.

So now he is no longer with us and he will be very sorely missed but at long as the pubs of Dale Street are open his name will be remembered.

Goodnight Alan, God Bless.

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