A trip to Shrewsbury in the mid 60′s very often involved the dentist. My pocket money in those days was spent on Spangles and Cadburys Chocolate. Mr Hoggins resided in a terraced house that was on a grand old street that is now mainly divided into flats. You entered up some steps into a hallway with moulded cornices and an umbrella stand and turned sharp left into the waiting room. There was no receptionist, only a housekeeper who popped her head round the door to see if you had kept your appointment and ‘let him know’. On the table infront of the comfortable armchair, one of several was a table laid out with old copies of Country Life. I loved the page with the picture of debutant of the month, and i wondered what her life might be like, and who she might marry. A nurse would appear and usher me in to Mr Hoggins operating room. There was a leather reclining dentists chair and instruments laid out on a table and also in a concertina-like cabinet perched on a high table at my side. Leaving parent behind and being alone with Mr Hoggins never frightened me at all. He wore a white overall buttoned over a tubby chest and he said things like ‘this may hurt a little, ‘open wide’ and to the nurse variously ‘mix me some amalgum’ or ‘mouthwash please’. I invariably had a filling as my milk teeth and my new teeth were very soft and chalky, so he said.
Opperation over, we left down the steps and turned sharp left to the sweet shop to by sooothing lindt chocolate bunnys, and to make sure the next trip was not too far away.
Tonight, munching on my tea, one of Mr Hoggins works of art fell out. I cant say it was a tooth because it was 90% filling. I stared at it on my plate. All those years it had survived, and I wondered as dad had quiped, if he really did line those fillings with copies of the Morning Post. I still retain several back copies if that were indeed true…….
