[Lori]

Thanks djack for the suggestion.

I saw it twice in a London slum area. Nothing but slums and war damage as far as the eye could see and then some. I don't think anyone would have been remotely interested in raising beetles. Many were still raising rabbits in their yards for meat. It was post war Britain and times were almost as bad as they had been during the war. There was mass unemployment in the area. The third time was in Catford which does border areas that were more affluent and could have produced an eccentric beetle devotee but I think you and I know the chance is rather remote.

No, its a complete mystery. I was disappointed Mum didn't remember. Bizarre that she should come out with that 'We don't get those large beetles here'. My sister hadn't contacted her and I deliberately didn't describe the beetle in any way to Mum. My mother isn't like me, she nearly died of fright when she saw a Huntsman spider in our house in here Australia.

I thought that although so long ago, the beetle had been so large she might have remembered.. or even recognised the name she'd told me at the time.

I'm still looking at beetles on U Tube and checking out sites without much luck. I'm as convinced as ever that my beetle isn't among them and since he never turned up on any documentary on beetles or the rarer creatures in Britain over the years I have toyed with the idea that just maybe he always was rare and unclassified. Maybe I was one of the last people to have seen him although how such a magnificent specimen escaped scientific notice is hard to imagine. It possible that he was specific to a particular area of South London, an area which was inhabited by people scraping a living and with little interest or regard for beetles and barren of those who did. The was soon to be covered in tower blocks and modern commercial units, car parks and new roads. I hate the thought but it is possible that over the years his habitat diminished to such an extent that he is now gone the way of the Thylacine.

I remember how disgusted I was as a child seeing the construction and eventual opening of The Festival of Britain site on South Bank. I don't know what it looks like now but then it was a barren, horrific mess of concrete and iron with two or three sad looking trees far from each other and each surrounded by a an unsympathetic ring of concrete. Who ever designed the area should have been hung, drawn and quartered. We kids and our parents hated it for its sterility, ugliness and complete disregard for needs of local inhabitants who obviously would not be patronising the Royal Festival Hall upon which so much money was lavished.

There was one tiny oasis within the South Bank. It was a half moon shaped pond in which water weeds grew and had water beetles skating over it. It held no tiny fish or tadpoles but a few teeny specimens of pond life. I had a pet toad for three years, I'd exchanged a home made scooter for him with some boys. On Saturday I used to take him there in a blue Smiths Crisps bowl and put him in the pond. I'd go off to play with my pals and when it was time to go home for tea I'd shake my hand in the water a few times and believe it or not, after a few minutes my toad would swim back to me. I suppose now some doubting Thomas will say I've made that up. He was a lovely chap, I kept him on our window sill in our scullery and when I came to feed him he'd wipe his mouth in anticipation and get quite animated. Dear old chap, it took me three years to find somewhere where he could survive in the wild and I hope his decendants are still living in Abbey Wood.

Lori