‘Good Morning’ titles shoot – photo from Clive Wagner

Good Morning titles shoot

Copyright resides with the original holder, no reproduction without permission.

This photo is from the title shoot of ‘Good Morning with Anne Nick’ in 1992.  Clive Wagner (on the left with the bald head) was the director on the shoot.  He was a director on ‘The Clothes Show’, and very well thought of.  The cameraman is almost certainly Tim Johnson, and the assistant, Sue Cane. The titles were shot on 35mm film, which was a real luxury.

‘Good Morning with Anne and Nick’ began on 12 Oct 1992, and was on air until 1996.  Their first guest on the sofa was Joan Collins.  The popular morning magazine show was presented by Anne Diamond and Nick Owen.  Anne’s husband, Mike Hollingsworth, was the series editor.

‘Good Morning’ was set in Studio C, the Pebble Mill foyer, where ‘Pebble Mill at One’ was set, but the instantly recognisable windows and view out on to Pebble Mill road were blocked out by the living room type set.

 

John Major – photo from Gail Herbert

Gail Herbert meeting John Major

Prime Minister John Major visited Pebble Mill in the 1990s and appeared on Good Morning with Anne and Nick for a sofa chat.  He is shown here meeting Gail Herbert, Chair of the BBC Club and P.A., outside the front of Pebble Mill Reception.  Between Gail and John Major is David Wayne, the Head of Building.

You’ll notice that John Major has signed the photo for Gail, who was a supporter of his.

Last ‘Pebble Mill at One’ 1986 – Terry Powell (costume)

Selected bits from YouTube of the last ‘Pebble Mill at One’ show. The programme starts and Five Star perform in the distinctly unglamorous surroundings of the Pebble Mill building (including the scene dock, canteen, on the roof, switchboard area and an untidy office). But it’s nicely done and an interesting peek behind the scenes. I was there, it was a sad day. Then Anne and Nick’s show took over.

Terry Powell (costume)

Studio C – Walkway Sign

Studio C Walkway Sign

This sign used to hang on the walkway at the back of Studio C at Pebble Mill.  Studio C was originally the entrance foyer, which was then converted into the studio for Pebble Mill at One. It was later used for Good Morning with Anne and Nick.  At the back of the foyer was a corridor which led to Studio A, Make Up and the dressing rooms.  This corridor had to be closed when Studio C was being used, so that people weren’t walking through the back of shot.  When the Studio was in use only the top sign was displayed, with the lower one being taken up and down, depending on whether you were allowed to walk through or not.

The sign was rescued by James Patterson from Pebble Mill before it was demolished and is now proudly displayed in the Post Production area of BBC Birmingham, in the Mailbox, next to the sink and the drinks machine!

Good Morning with Anne and Nick – Sue Watson

Sue Watson

A Hard Lesson Live on Air

Pebble Mill was always there. I’m not sure I knew exactly what or where it was – it had always been in my consciousness. Alan Titchmarsh had often entertained me on days off sick from school – well there was nothing else on. The man was as comfortable with international film stars as he was with spring bulbs and compost and I could only watch in awe as he spread his Northern charm like gravy on Yorkshires. So when, at the age of 33, fresh from working on The Sun newspaper, I entered the hallowed portals of the BBC – I knew this was somewhere special where big things happened.

After meeting with several members of the Good Morning team followed by an informal interview, I was taken to the Crush Bar where machine Cappuccinos were the order of the day. Here, sipping from a polystyrene cup and gazing out onto Pebble Mill Road, I was told I had the job of News Researcher and my TV life was born.

Elated and terrified, I swallowed hard… I was a print journalist, what the hell did a TV news researcher do anyway? I’d just got myself a brilliant job on a BBC programme at the famous Pebble Mill – and I hadn’t a clue what it involved.

The following few weeks were a fog of programme briefs, phone calls, acres of newsprint, gallons of ‘polystyrened’ coffee and a great deal of hand holding from my colleagues. It was pre-internet, pre mobile phone and all I had to rely on in this strange new world were Cadburys Double Deckers and my trusty Guardian Media Guide.

However, one day I was summoned to the Series Producers’ office:  “You need to get a pool car and head for Cornwall,” the SP announced, “you’re going to interview Colin Wilson. It’s a live so you’ll need to talk him through it then stay with him when it goes out. A cameraman will meet you at Colin’s place… first thing tomorrow. OK?”

My response was to nod blithely. What? I needed to do this – I couldn’t let anyone know that I hadn’t a clue what she was talking about … Colin who? Where in Cornwall? Why me?

But the instruction causing most consternation was, ‘get a pool car.’ There was nothing in my well-thumbed Media Guardian Guide about such things as a ‘pool car’ (yes, sadly, I confess, so reliant was I on this organ I did check). I rushed back to my desk and looked long and hard under C in the index but there was no mention of cars, Colin or Cornwall. I was lost.

Bemused, I looked up from my desk to see a friendly face and hear someone tell me they’d booked a car, a hotel room and here was a printed sheet with Colin’s address, a map and what looked like the phone numbers of everyone in the BBC! I felt a warm rush of relief flood through me – so this was what it was like to work in telly? Television was turning out to be a completely different animal from the cut-throat world of tabloid journalism where everyone was testing you and treading on each other to get to the top story.

And so it was on a warm August day I left Pebble Mill for ‘Colin’s in Cornwall.’ Driving through the back car park in the warm sunshine, I felt safe in the knowledge that I had a full tank of petrol several maps, my body weight in chocolate and a BBC phone number for every eventuality in every location across the globe. My colleagues, now friends, came to see me off encouraging and waving me on like I was going to war. Looking back I think perhaps they’d met Colin Wilson and knew my fate. All I can say is that they filled me with confidence, these pretty young girls smiling and waving in the sunshine reminiscent of a scene from Stepford Wives… in a good way.

The following day I waited in Colin Wilson’s cosy but chaotic home, feeling anxious that the famous Criminologist (I’d asked a colleague – again the Guide had let me down) had not yet made an entrance. Eventually he appeared, with ten minutes to go, his hair askew and no Pebble-Mill-Stepford smile in evidence.

“Would you like to rehearse what you are going to say to Anne Diamond,” I asked nervously, smiling and hoping for one in return. Without responding or acknowledging me he flopped in his armchair.

“It’s … live,” I offered, wondering if he’d heard me.

“No,” he barked, “I don’t need to rehearse… I’ve done these hundreds of times.” I was worried, my producer wanted information about this ‘chat’ and I needed to fax programme briefs back to Pebble Mill, but Colin wasn’t playing ball.

We sat in silence until, within seconds of going live on air, Colin suddenly announced ‘I’ve got the trots.’ He stood up saying; I’m going to the toilet.”

“No… you can’t,” I said and just when I thought I might cry, he sensed my distress and agreed to wait until after the item.

“I can’t promise anything though,” he said gruffly, “keep the shot very tight and above the waist dear… just in case.” I looked at the cameraman who shrugged and nodded, who knew what would happen live on air?

Needless to say the following six minutes were the longest of my life and no-one was more relieved than me when Anne Diamond said ‘thank you,’ and the mic was turned off. This was the first of many ‘moments’ in telly – but it was at this point I cast off my water wings and learned to swim. I realised if I wanted to work in ‘live telly’ at pebble Mill, I needed to throw away my reference book and use my initiative instead.

After all, there was nothing in my Guardian Media Guide under ‘T’ for ‘trots,’ – and yes, I did check.

Sue Watson