It’s in the Papers…
Over the years our members have sent us a variety of newspaper and magazine cuttings that make reference to P*rr*tts – here are a few examples:
EVENING ADVERTISER (Swindon, UK) – 15th August 2002
Swindon actor Rob Perrett is launching his own drama school … “I felt it was time to move on and bring drama to a wider range of the community an provide a good working environment for myself” said Rob, a father of three … Rob, from Leigh, near Cricklade, has appeared in six episodes of the TV drama Casualty. He has been teaching drama and media studies since 1999 at Swindon and Cirencester colleges.
PAPER UNKNOWN (Australia) – 2002
Prominent Melbourne architect Les Perrott has died, aged 75. Mr Perrott helped shape the city skyline through his involvement in the designs of the Rialto, the Hilton Hotel and Nauru House. He also designed the controversial Gas and Fuel towers which were demolished to make way for Federation Square. Mr Perrott was awarded an OBE in 1977 for community service and an OA in 1992 for town planning and community service.
SOUTH WALES ECHO (Cardiff, UK) – 2003
“I believe my late husband could have been related to John Perrett, Potato Creek Johnny, who lies buried next to Calamity Jane and Wild Bill Hickok in Deadwood Cemetery. Paul Morgan of Llanedeyrn, Cardiff, said he had found a John Perrott born in Llanwonno in the 1881 census who could be the gold prospector from Dakota. My husband Vivian, a miner who died six years ago, and myself were both from Llanwonno. We had seven children, including one called Anthony John. We still have the marriage certificate of my father-in-law Vivian Harold Perrett, who married Elleanor Mary Jones in 1929. Unfortunately my husband was only two when his father died so we don’t know much about his family before then although his grandfather was called Arthur George. My husband’s family were all short and since Potato Creek Johnny was only four feet three inches tall we think he might have been a relative. We were all thrilled to hear we could be related to someone who was so famous and discovered such a large nugget of gold!” – letter from Lily May Perrett, Barry
Editor’s note: ‘John Perrott’ in Llanwonno on the 1881 census was in fact born in Gillingham, Dorset. He was the son of Septimus and Eliza Perrott, born in 1866, which would make him around the right age to be ‘Potato Creek’ Johnny, however this ‘John Perrott’ married a Mary Morgan and was living in Aberdare in 1891, where he worked as a coal miner … ‘Potato Creek’ Johnny had gone to the USA in 1883, so it is not the same person.
THE MAIL ON SUNDAY (UK) – 30th August 1992
Although I have known Monsieur Perrott for more than ten years, I still do not know his first name. Indeed, it was only this year that I learned his surname. He and his wife – a silver-haired lady who looks like a dowager duchess – have a hoop-la stall in a French funfair which at this time of the year wends its way from one Normandy seaside village to another. I love to watch Monsieur Perrott enchanting his customers. He is especially good and gentle with children. And late at night with revellers as, with unsteady aim, they try to throw their hoop over a china dog. Although, if the rain comes – and it comes quite often in this part of Normandy – there are times when there may be no customers at all. It was near midnight on one such night this holiday that I got into a prolonged conversation with Monsieur Perrott. “Where do you go from here?” I asked. “Grandcamps” he replied. “And after that?” I asked. He proceeded to list a number of other towns where he and the rest of the funfair arrive at precisely the same time each year. “When do you finish for the winter?” I asked. He looked at me in some surprise. “We never stop. We go on right through the winter”. “Do you never have a holiday?” I asked. He shrugged his shoulders. “Never”. He looked at me searchingly and said: “I expect that in England you have a house. I have no house and never have had one. I have no land. No money either. I am 73 and my wife is 74. Our only home is our caravan, and even that is a much smaller one than we used to have. But I wouldn’t want it any other way. It’s a wonderful job and I love it”. And looking at him and his wife, who was nodding in agreement, I realised he meant every word he said. I got up early the next morning and sought out his caravan with a bottle of whisky which I planned to give him as a tiny gesture of thanks for the pleasure he had given me and my family over the years. But his caravan had already gone. I hope I see him again next year. I have an instinct that he could teach the rest of us a good deal about what really constitutes human happiness. (from John Junor’s column)
WESTERN TELEGRAPH (Pembrokeshire, UK) – 13th September 2000
On September 20th 1580, Sir John Perrot, Knight, of Haroldston and Carew Castle, presented to the town of Haverfordwest much of his property ‘for the improvement of the town, and for the repairs of its streets, bridges, walls, conduits of water, and other decays of the town, and also for a new Quay’. For 420 years Perrot’s Trust has been of great benefit to the town.