Human Heritage: Who is 'Cuckoo' and who is 'Sunshine'?

Photo credit: Bebedi

I was inspired to write this piece by my friend, Stewart Alexander, who, earlier today, shared a lovely video of his country walk with a cuckoo calling in the distance - such an evocative and haunting sound. Among the many things associated with this outsider of a bird, is the association between insanity and being 'cuckoo'. Upon listening to the cuckoo's 'love call' on Stewart's video, I recalled a story that another friend recently shared with me that, for me, subverts this particular narrative. 

Photo Credit: Archant

To set the scene, I want to introduce 'Marigold' to you. When I first moved to Norwich in the 1980s 'Marigold' was a very well-known local 'character'. He was so-named because of his penchant for directing the local traffic whilst wearing Wellington Boots and a pair of yellow Marigold rubber gloves (I particularly recall him standing by the busy Barn Road/Grapes Hill junction). 'Marigold' was of Afro-Caribbean heritage and - despite the often unrestrained racism of the time - he seemed to be treated with compassion by most local people. This certainly included members of the Norfolk Police, who would, on occasions, be compelled to offer 'Marigold' residence in their Bethel Street cells. 

One night, a young officer (who is now a friend of mine) went into the station and as he approached the Desk Sergeant, the older man put his fingers to his lips and whispered to him, 'Listen to this...' The Sergeant then made a 'cuckoo' noise. After a short delay, this was met with another 'cuckoo' call from the cells. The Serge excitedly explained to the younger man that it was Marigold and that they'd been calling and responding to each other like this all evening. 

When 'Marigold' died in 2015 (aged 74) the local newspapers were flooded with heartfelt tributes from folk full of fond memories and gratitude for this remarkable man. Here are a few examples:

His daughter writes:

'He lived a rough life but still came up smiling. He was a highly intelligent man who was very kind and loved to teach his girls. He used to teach us large words and sayings and he tried to write books [...] He called everyone, sunshine and so was known as, 'Sunshine'. 

Paul Wilson recalls this memory:

'I remember back in the early 1990s, stationed at RAF Coltishall and being in charge of the flight line at the time, the lads on the flight line used marigold gloves instead of the normal marshalling wands as a gesture to 'Marigold', who was seen daily on the roundabout by many RAF personnel travelling to work.'

Jeremy Dearling, who worked at the HMSO offices at Anglia Square and regularly saw 'Marigold/Sunshine', shares this tribute:

'Rest in Peace 'Marigold'. Would that others could be as uninhibited as you had the courage to be.'

Finally, Jayne Hilton makes this observation:

'I remember this lovely man always made me smile. In a mad world he brought smiles. May he rest in peace.'

So who was this man who brought the gift of smiles to what can often feel like 'mad' world? 

Alvin Braithwaite was born in Barbados in 1941. He moved to London in the 1960s and worked on the Underground. He later moved to Thetford, where he worked in a printing works as a compositor, before working in a local pub. It is my understanding that, at this point, he suffered a life-changing head injury as a result of an accident. He subsequently moved to a hostel in Norwich on Westwick Street, where he lived for many years. 

'Fallible Flaneur' is a heritage-inspired blog and, as such, encompasses narratives of those still alive as well as memories we carry of those now departed. Mr. Braithwaite is an important part of my adopted city's heritage. I 'lead' weekly history walks in Norwich for men aged 18+ for the charity, MensCraft. Exactly a year ago to the day of me writing this (May 5th 2024) we went wandering together as we explored the theme of, 'People without Plaques' - namely, celebrating, with gratitude, some lives of wonderful folk in the city's history who are often unheralded and 'invisible'. Naturally, we ended up talking about Alvin. At the end of this, we decided that - for all the tragedy and barriers experience by him - his was a successful life by any sane criteria. Alvin Braithwaite passed on Love to his family, his peers and the public. He was not 'cuckoo', he was SUNSHINE. 

In memory of Alvin Braithwaite (1941-2015)

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