Dogs, and fires, and death! Oh my!

5:07pm Thursday 21st August 2008

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A fire, an assault, the closure of the Stow and an inquest - it's been a busy couple of days in Waltham Forest.

The fire on Sunday morning gutted a grocery shop and flats in Leytonstone, the assault left a man in critical condition on Saturday and the inquest...well, the inquest turned out to be a story for Epping in the end. It was a sad tale about a man from Loughton who fell from his motorbike and under the wheels of a lorry. The really tragic thing is that if he'd reacted even a split second sooner, he probably would have survived.

It was only my second ever inquest and my first at Walthamstow Coroners' Court - different to its North East counterpart in that it has a dedicated building, rather than a room in the civic centre. In fact, the one in Newcastle doubles up, weirdly, as a wedding venue, which means it's often incongruously decked out in bright floral arrangements.

It shares the sense of sticking out like a sore thumb, however - heightened in Walthamstow by the fact that the press bench is perpendicular to public seating, marking you out as an outsider, an intruder.

The family, to give them credit though, showed remarkable composure during what must have been an agonising hour or so, reliving what happened to the poor guy.

There's something distinctly odd about reporting on inquests. Naturally, as with all news, we have a duty to report what's said, but there's a very creepy feeling about being there, talking about someone who's died in such clinical, emotionless terms. Just another part of the job I'll have to get used to, I suppose.

In other news, we bade farewell to the Stow this week. Although the final night was marred by vandalism, it was emotional stuff - even for me, and I've only lived in the area for a couple of months.

We managed an office outing to the last week night of racing, which was an exciting experience to say the least. I even won a fiver on a dog called Herman and in my moment of elation as the bookie handed over the cash, I genuinely loved Herman. Herman was a good dog. Herman was a fast dog and a beater of odds. The thought entered my mind that I might give Herman a home after the stadium closed down for good, but then I remembered I don't actually like dogs, and the thought left again.

Nonetheless, in that brief moment, I understood why so many people are so sad to see the place go.