In an age where there were no telephones, faxes, computers, cell phones or e.mail, the red phone box was the symbol of communication. Your message would disappear into it’s red maw and reappear days, weeks and, very occasionally, many years later on a distant doormat, carrying salutations, entreaties, demands or just news of the family. Getting a letter was always exciting, sometimes a surprise and often kept and treasured.
I look at my son and think of the pleasure he’ll never know.
Taken in the town of Wells.