I have just been to the funeral of an old licensee.
Mick used to run the Plough and Harrow from around 1976 until 1984.
He was a lovely chap who had more than his fair share of misfortune. His son died in a motorcycle accident in the early eighties. Mick took it very badly and the business suffered. He and his wife Jane were moved to a smaller, easier pub and there, to make things worse, Jane died. From then on his misfortunes continued.
I did tell him I was very grateful not to be related to him.
Mick was, In his latter years, a regular customer of mine and was always cheery and kind. He was a delightful man who will always be remembered as a singer. But heavily aged and war-weary from his setbacks.
Any licensee who takes on a pub as a career should be mindful of their exit strategy. I have known of hundreds of licensees over the years and in almost every case, with the notable exception of about six, they have all left with their health, their wealth or their marriage in tatters. Sometimes all three.
Running a pub is not a job. It is a lifestyle; a vocation. It is a dedication that few are prepared for. It isn't that it is hard but, rather, because it is so consuming.
So it is always with great sadness that I go to the funeral of an old licensee. Often they have given far more than many realise.
And it is my honour, duty and privilege to show them my respects.
Licensees like Mick should live on our memories. After all, a lot of our memories were shaped by their efforts.