Open Writing

...At first glance Maggie looks like a tall Chinese woman, an Eastern princess or the cool concubine of a Chinese warlord. At second glance, and there always was a second glance, you realised that all the guesses were wrong and you were confused. Maggie was a tall American woman with short, dark hair, a wide mouth with perfect teeth and slanting eyes and as American as they come from upstate New York...

Henry Jackson presents another intoxicating mixture of news, poetry and personal experiences from the great city of London.

Continue reading "The Cool Concubine Of A Chinese War Lord?" »

Posted by Henry Jackson at 12:28 PM | Permalink

...The date May 4 is printed in heavy type on my brain. Whatever else I may forget I always remember May 4. Why? Because on May 4 1942 I was blown up by a mine during the invasion of Diego Suarez in Madagascar where the Vichy French were allowing Japanese submarines to rest and refuel and attack British convoys on their way to Suez where Montgomery was building up a force to repel Rommel’s Army. I was serving in a minesweeper, HMS Auricula, and we hit a mine as we led the invasion force to the landing beach at Antisirane...

Ninety-five-year-old Henry Jackson, Britain's oldest columnist, brings another dramatic mixture of news, autobiography, poetry and history.

Continue reading "Blown Up By A Mine" »

Posted by Henry Jackson at 12:24 PM | Permalink

...They were enthusiastic guests and eagerly travelled up from London to the country to eat, sit and drink to the full, but mostly drink. They clustered round my big, well stocked bar in the conservatory like bees around honey. And their good taste guided them towards Chivas Regal when it came to whisky and Plymouth when it came to gin. I drank wine. Others sneaked off to my billiards room with a full size table where they knocked the balls about but the main attraction was another magnificent bar with every known drink.

Of course, many of them did not have cars so we collected them at Sevenoaks Station in my newly acquired Rolls Royce Silver Shadow (PLK 49) driven by a chauffeur who was on the staff of my publishing company...

Britain's oldest columnist Henry Jackson brings another exuberant helping of autobiography, news, poetry and history.

Continue reading "A Rolls Royce Silver Shadow" »

Posted by Henry Jackson at 12:14 PM | Permalink

There are many good reasons for getting married. Like liking someone so much that you can’t bear being parted. Like being compatible. Like working in the same company. Like belonging to the same church. Like being in love. All good reasons but I married Copper because I was lonely and she made wonderful tomato soup.

Ninetyfive-year-old Henry Jackson, Britain's oldest columnist, serves up another tasty helping of news, poetry and personal experiences

Continue reading "" »

Posted by Henry Jackson at 12:14 PM | Permalink

…Giles drove me to Brampton where we celebrated his 44th birthday and I managed to sink four glasses of champagne from a beautiful fluted glass…

Ninetyfive-year-old Henry Jackson knows how to enjoy life.

Here’s another delectable slice of news, poetry and autobiography in Henry’s latest London Letter.

Continue reading "Four Glasses Of Champagne" »

Posted by Henry Jackson at 12:02 PM | Permalink

Ninety-five-year old Henry Jackson, who is probably Britain's oldest weekly columnist, brings us another spicey and unmissable mixture of news, poetry and autobiography.

Continue reading "Fun And Games At Heathrow" »

Posted by Henry Jackson at 12:14 PM | Permalink

…The train was crowded with trippers and as soon as we got under way the mothers opened their shopping bags and brought out the food---ham, sausage, pickles, big chunks of chicken and yards of French bread. They insisted on feeding me, too….

Henry Jackson recalls a solo trip to France in 1932.

Ninety-five-year old Henry brings us the latest news from London, memories of steamy wartime encounters with shapely, blonde Joan, a poem….and much more besides.

Continue reading "Yards Of French Bread" »

Posted by Henry Jackson at 12:28 PM | Permalink

A poem, reminiscences, famous quotes, today in history, and news, news, news. Henry Jackson sends another hugely entertaining “parcel’’ of words from Britain's capital city.

Continue reading "Old Fashioned Fish And Chips, With Guinness In Tiny Sips" »

Posted by Henry Jackson at 12:12 PM | Permalink

Ninety-five-year-old Henry Jackson brings another invigorating juxtaposition of news, poetry and autobiography in his weekly letter from London.

Continue reading "Cultural Centre Of The World" »

Posted by Henry Jackson at 12:28 PM | Permalink

...Eileen came to live in London, studied hard in a beauty school and assembled a private clientele of rich upper-class women who liked to avoid beauty salons and boasted quietly of their own private beauty specialist. I met her outside Charing Cross Station when she was trying to cross the road and ran into her in my cream and green Sunbeam sports car. She was shaken but not stirred and when I found out that she was trying to get to a house off the King’s Road in Chelsea I took her there...

Ninetyfive-year-old Henry Jackson, in his weekly letter packed with hard news and personal experience, begins a new feature, The Women In My Life.

Continue reading "Shaken But Not Stirred" »

Posted by Henry Jackson at 12:22 PM | Permalink

Ninety-five year old Henry Jackson brings us another vivid slice of London life.

Continue reading "A Strange New World" »

Posted by Henry Jackson at 12:12 PM | Permalink

Ninety-five-year-old Henry Jackson brings another lively news letter from the heart of Britain's capital city.

Henry's entertaining mixture of news and memories, prose and poetry, makes for one of the best reads in any week.

Continue reading "Henry Is On The Move" »

Posted by Henry Jackson at 09:46 AM | Permalink

…The views from the restaurant across the Thames were spectacular and the raising of the bridge to allow the slow passage of a Thames sailing barge added a touch of drama. As darkness fell the lights on and around the bridge lit up and the area became a fairyland of light. We drove back past the turreted Tower of London that dates back almost 1,000 years—the beginnings of history…

Henry Jackson, a mere slip of a lad at 95, still relishes the sights of London, old and new, and takes pleasure in bringing us the city’s news.

Continue reading "A Big Blue Butterfly Tattoo On Her Bum" »

Posted by Henry Jackson at 12:22 PM | Permalink

Ninety-five year old Henry Jackson, in another lively London Letter, tells us the latest news and also recalls a Christmas week when he perspired day and night.

Continue reading "The Savoy Sale" »

Posted by Henry Jackson at 12:18 PM | Permalink

In another lively London Letter 95-year-old Henry Jackson recalls a Christmas week in which he sweated day and night.

Continue reading "Every Wish I Had Came True" »

Posted by Henry Jackson at 12:08 PM | Permalink

The inimitable Henry Jackson casts his London eye over another week's headlines.

Henry, who is 95, is also introduces a new feature in this week's column - Looking Back.

Continue reading "Spend, Spend, Spend" »

Posted by Henry Jackson at 12:12 PM | Permalink

It takes more than a couple of falls and a stroke to stem the flow of words from a a craftsman journalist and wordsmith.

At any rate it does when the craftsman is 95-year-old Henry Jackson.

Back in September Open Writing ran one of Henry's news letters, The Week In London. The intention was to carry Henry's news hightlights - and keen comments on events - weekly in Open Writing.

Henry has had a rough time over the past few months - but he's back in action again. And his mind has lost none of its youthful vigour!

He begins with an account of what has been happening in his own life in recent times.

Continue reading "Back In Action!" »

Posted by Henry Jackson at 12:14 PM | Permalink

Here's a welcome to a new Open Writing columnist. Henry Jackson will be sending a weekly letter highlighting news from Britain's capital city.

Henry is 95. Yes, 95!

He has been in the newspaper trade all his life, starting as a junior reporter on a local newspaper, then working for Odhams Press, the Associated Press of America, the Daily and Overseas Mail, the Sunday Dispatch and The Observer. He launched his own motoring magazine in 1953 and then added more titles which became the Bugle Press Group.

Continue reading "Mandela Statue" »

Posted by Henry Jackson at 12:06 PM | Permalink