Is it possible to have a soft spot for a place you’ve never been to and know next to nothing about? I think it is, in my case anyway, for I have developed warm feelings for Runcorn. On reflection, this has been in the making, quietly, in my subconscious, for a long time. In the last century, I was at university with a lad from Runcorn and, as he is the only person I have ever known from Runcorn, he is bound to colour my sense of the place. Big Everton fan. Could occasionally, like most of us in our gang, get a bit boisterous on a night out, but otherwise had a heart of gold. Reconnected with him recently and the boisterousness seems to have dissipated while the heart of gold still beats. I met his dad once, too; he was nice as well. All good for my own personal sense of Brand Runcorn.
Also in the last century, I got talking to the bloke sitting next to me on a train out of Euston. I was squashed up next to him and his suitcases. He had a lot of luggage, so wherever he was going it looked as if he would be staying there a while. He turned out to be American, and a Mormon. I had, not long before, been to Salt Lake City, so we had a nice chat about that. When I asked him where he was heading, he said Runcorn. This led me to ask why. He replied: “Because that’s where the Lord has sent me.” There’s no answer to that, or at least not one I could think of as we rattled our way north. A shroud of mystery now settled over my idea of Runcorn.
