Watching this hurts me so much, as a musician having played successfully in some of these venues, making friends with people I would never had known breaks my heart.
A short story It was a crisp winter evening, the kind where the air nipped at your cheeks and made you pull your scarf a little tighter. James stood at the corner of the familiar street, his breath forming clouds in the cold air. The neon sign of "The Rusty Anchor," the pub where he'd spent countless nights as a teenager, was nowhere in sight. He glanced around, feeling a pang of nostalgia mixed with a sense of loss. As he walked closer, his worst fear was confirmed. The once-vibrant pub, with its inviting glow and hearty laughter spilling out onto the street, was now a darkened, empty shell. The windows were boarded up, and a "For Lease" sign hung crookedly on the door. James stood there, memories flooding back of the times he'd spent with friends, the laughter, the music, the sense of belonging. He ran his fingers along the rough wood of the boarded-up windows, feeling the echo of the past in every splinter. The Rusty Anchor had been more than just a place to get a drink; it had been a refuge, a second home. He remembered the night he’d first gathered the courage to talk to Emily, the girl with the bright laugh and kind eyes, and how they’d spent hours talking about dreams and futures. James sighed and stepped back, taking in the sight of the closed pub one last time. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, worn-out matchbook with The Rusty Anchor's logo on it, a souvenir from a time when life seemed simpler. As he turned to leave, he noticed a handwritten note tacked to the door, slightly weathered and faded. It read, "Thank you for the memories. We hope to see you again in a new chapter." James smiled bittersweetly, folding the note and placing it in his pocket alongside the matchbook. Walking away, he felt a mix of sadness and gratitude. The Rusty Anchor may be gone, but the memories and the friendships forged within its walls would always remain a part of him. And who knows, perhaps this ending would lead to a new beginning, a new place where more memories could be made.
The sportsman was quality.. Prince Arthur in Roundhay was our Local...So sad so many of our pubs are gone now..I'm 34 but communities togethernes destroyed by losing their locals..
nice to see these three compilations. One criticism .... many of the photos are not identifiable. It would have been good to have titles and ideally locations on all the photos. however good job
At the end of the day people vote with their pockets. Cheap booze from supermarkets killed pubs; average cost of a pint in UK £4, 18 pack of John Smiths 440ml (almost a pint) £16 just over £1 per pint. When times are hard which are people going to choose? All pubs suited different market places; if a pub was near a factory then the majority of its trade came from that factory. Companies began to clamp down on their workers drinking during working hours then moved to other sites and the pub was done. Even pubs in housing estates if you went in before 8pm on a week day were dead. At the end of the day pubs are businesses not community amenities and if the community won't use them they will die.
Well, church attendances have been declining steadily since the 1960s as well. Ultimately people vote with their feet. The pubs simply aren’t in demand in the way they once were.
Watching this hurts me so much, as a musician having played successfully in some of these venues, making friends with people I would never had known breaks my heart.
A short story
It was a crisp winter evening, the kind where the air nipped at your cheeks and made you pull your scarf a little tighter. James stood at the corner of the familiar street, his breath forming clouds in the cold air. The neon sign of "The Rusty Anchor," the pub where he'd spent countless nights as a teenager, was nowhere in sight. He glanced around, feeling a pang of nostalgia mixed with a sense of loss.
As he walked closer, his worst fear was confirmed. The once-vibrant pub, with its inviting glow and hearty laughter spilling out onto the street, was now a darkened, empty shell. The windows were boarded up, and a "For Lease" sign hung crookedly on the door. James stood there, memories flooding back of the times he'd spent with friends, the laughter, the music, the sense of belonging.
He ran his fingers along the rough wood of the boarded-up windows, feeling the echo of the past in every splinter. The Rusty Anchor had been more than just a place to get a drink; it had been a refuge, a second home. He remembered the night he’d first gathered the courage to talk to Emily, the girl with the bright laugh and kind eyes, and how they’d spent hours talking about dreams and futures.
James sighed and stepped back, taking in the sight of the closed pub one last time. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, worn-out matchbook with The Rusty Anchor's logo on it, a souvenir from a time when life seemed simpler.
As he turned to leave, he noticed a handwritten note tacked to the door, slightly weathered and faded. It read, "Thank you for the memories. We hope to see you again in a new chapter." James smiled bittersweetly, folding the note and placing it in his pocket alongside the matchbook.
Walking away, he felt a mix of sadness and gratitude. The Rusty Anchor may be gone, but the memories and the friendships forged within its walls would always remain a part of him. And who knows, perhaps this ending would lead to a new beginning, a new place where more memories could be made.
The sportsman was quality..
Prince Arthur in Roundhay was our Local...So sad so many of our pubs are gone now..I'm 34 but communities togethernes destroyed by losing their locals..
English and British community can reclaimed. Join us at Patriotic Alternative 🏴🇬🇧
nice to see these three compilations. One criticism .... many of the photos are not identifiable. It would have been good to have titles and ideally locations on all the photos. however good job
I remember the Royal Oak in kippax, used to be a doctors house back in the day, it's now apartments....another one bites the dust...
Left Leeds 40 years ago that made me home sick
left 45 years ago... but still have a soft spot for the place... but couldn't do with the pace of it now
Left 20 years ago miss it very much
I left 25 years ago and these 3 videos have me in tears for what it’s become.
Life was so much better back in the day x
In some respects but we did not know at the time.
The smoking ban killed a fair few off in my opinion.
At the end of the day people vote with their pockets. Cheap booze from supermarkets killed pubs; average cost of a pint in UK £4, 18 pack of John Smiths 440ml (almost a pint) £16 just over £1 per pint. When times are hard which are people going to choose?
All pubs suited different market places; if a pub was near a factory then the majority of its trade came from that factory. Companies began to clamp down on their workers drinking during working hours then moved to other sites and the pub was done. Even pubs in housing estates if you went in before 8pm on a week day were dead.
At the end of the day pubs are businesses not community amenities and if the community won't use them they will die.
Been in a few of these
Well, church attendances have been declining steadily since the 1960s as well. Ultimately people vote with their feet.
The pubs simply aren’t in demand in the way they once were.