Let it remain obscure

Here’s our Stannah stairlift, recently installed. It cost £3500 and is used twice a day, once up, once down. Since the one-way trip is (roughly) four metres amortising its purchase cost against mileage will take decades, perhaps even a century. I haven’t tried to work it out.

Think of it as analogous with the premiums paid for safety insurance; a seemingly needless expense until an accident is memorably avoided. Whence the Stannah’s value becomes obvious and is beyond rubies.

It’s strongly made, well designed and easily operated. Beyond that, it explains itself and is of little interest.

But not quite. The Stannah also represents an odd gap in my memory. 

When stairlifts were first discussed by the Robinsons we automatically spoke of Stannah. Like saying Hoover instead of vacuum cleaner. Mainly because Stannah’s  smallish print ads were widespread and showed Dame Thora Hird (an elderly UK actress much admired by playwright Alan Bennett) in the driver’s seat. The Thora/Stannah link had somehow stuck in our minds. In my case, the final h  seemed to evoke the parade-ground voice of a drill sergeant. Stann-AH!

Imagine my surprise when I came upon a small ad showing Dame Thora riding a stairlift that WASN’T a Stannah. A Churchill, in fact. Saying: "Churchills are the only stairlift I trust and I recommend them to you."

Had I been deluded? Was the distantly recalled, if sharp, image of Dame Thora, plus that eloquent terminal h, playing me false? Had Dame Thora been poached from Stannah to Churchill with promises of gold? Was Dame Thora reckoned to be the only person who could adequately publicise stairlifts?

If I googled hard enough I might well find the answer. But I’m not sure I want to. I’d rather cuddle this tiny mystery.