Charlotte "Lottie" Knowles was one of the most wonderful, kind-hearted people to have played a part in my early life. She was a character, a "one off" and remains in my thoughts from time to time to this day so allow me to share my memories of this woman with you, the reader.
From an early age the house I was brought up in had an "open house" feel to it. There was a constant flow of friends, family, neighbours etc coming and going pretty much all the time. The local community were tight knit and it seemed that my parents were at the centre of it. Many times I would wake up in the morning and hear various voices downstairs. As I descended the stairs I would wonder who was I going to get introduced to this morning? More often than not it would be some new friend of Mam's from church or the "wash house" or somewhere.After a while most of these people used to merge into one so it had to be someone remarkable to really grab my attention.
George Knowles was a work colleague and good friend of my Dad. His wife was called Charlotte but she had been known as Lottie for most of her life. Lottie & George were quite a bit older than my parents but the age gap wasn't apparent to me as a child. They used to visit our house occasionally and, from a very young age, 2 traits set Lottie apart from most of the other visitors. One was her infectious laugh. She always seemed to be enjoying life, no matter what it was throwing at her, and when she laughed it was impossible not to laugh with her. Secondly, she was a fanatical Manchester City supporter and they were a topic of conversation that was never very far from her lips. My love for the club was in it's infancy in the early 1970s and Lottie was the first woman that I had so far met in my young life to openly have such a passion for football. The world of football was very different then, of course, as very few women attended matches and I only ever heard blokes talking about football.
In 1974 City reached the League Cup Final and were overwhelming favourites to beat Wolves. It wasn't televised live in those days and the final was played at 3pm on a Saturday. It was a big deal in our house and most of us were crowded around the radio to listen to it broadcast live. City blew it and lost 2-1. The house was a gloomy place in the aftermath. Later that evening Lottie & George arrived for a visit and this lifted my spirits. Lottie was her usual sunny self but then someone mentioned City's result and her face darkened. She opined how rubbish some of the players were then, when she'd finished, she was just back to laughing again. I immediately tried to learn from this. It was obvious she was hurting from the result but life went on and and it seemed a lifetime of supporting City had educated her that spending too much time dwelling on their failures was both a waste of time and energy. Lottie's passion for City seemed even more remarkable to me as George appeared to have very little interest.
As I got a little older Mam would take my sister and I over to their house for visits. It was 2 buses to get there and it always turned into an all day event. I loved the whole experience. This was an era when there was very little football merchandise but what there was all seemed to be in their house! Lottie had scarves, photos, badges and so on all over the house. We always looked forward to her dinners as well as she made such delicious chips they gave my Dad's legendary chips a run for their money.
Lottie was also a keen knitter. She knitted blue and white scarves and baby bootees all the time. One day I asked who these were for. She casually replied "oh the player's children mostly". I was astonished. There were several players who lived nearby her house including Colin Bell, Joe Corrigan and Peter Barnes. This really was a different world then. No mansions in Cheshire for this generation of players. They were very much in touch with the fans anyway, it was just that they were even more in touch with Lottie for her knitted baby clothes. Can you imagine a player today popping round for a brew and a chinwag with a pensioner who knitted his baby's clothes ?!
Lottie had a season ticket for the Platt Lane at Maine Road. I was already a regular visitor by the age of 7 or 8 either with family members or a bit later with my mates. On a few occasions I sat with Lottie instead. Her support was incredible. She may have been in her 60s but she knew all the songs of the day and the prevailing hooliganism never intimidated her. One time I heard her saying "If I see any of our fans misbehaving I'd give them a clip around the ear". I remember feeling safer sat next to her than anywhere.
During the 1980 Moscow Olympics I was now a teenager but I still occasionally visited Lottie & George's house. This was the athletics era of Sebastian Coe and Steve Ovett and I visited once whilst the Olympics were on the telly. Lottie started to talk about Coe and how she had only just found out that he hadn't been knighted after all. I didn't understand what she was talking about so I asked her to explain what she meant. She said "His name". "What about his name?" I replied . "Well I thought he was called "Sir Bastian Coe" until last week !", this was followed by one of her inimitable laughs which set me off as well and even George (who was quiet and unassuming) started chuckling away to himself.
Lottie outlived George for many years and passed away when she was in her 90s. She was a truly marvelous person and her legend lives on.
Charlotte "Lottie" Knowles. R.I.P.
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