Four blokes stand in the ruins of a 1930s building. They are be-suited and flat-capped. It is 1936 and they are part of the demolition team taking apart the Alhambra Theatre in London’s Leicester Square.
The Alhambra underwent a few transformations in its 82 years of life, including a rebuild after a fire. In 1936, it was finally demolished and the site is now occupied by one of the eye-wateringly expensive cinemas that host the occasional red carpet do in central London.
I found this photo on the fab Arthur Lloyd website that tells the story of Victorian music hall and theatre and tracks the buildings left behind.
In the middle of this picture, bold as brass, is this little boy of African or Caribbean heritage. Sure, I know that there were many black people in London before our official history apparently starts in 1948. But doesn’t this just make you want to tell a story? Was one of those men his father? Had he meandered in for the photo? Has someone’s grandad pointed to that pic and told them about the day the Alhambra came down?
I seriously wish I knew.
PS. Three months gap! Ouch, sorry.