Some of you may have already heard this story, so forgive me for telling it to those that haven't heard it. The last time I heard it was on the car radio in a lovely Irish accent, when I was driving from Dublin to Wicklow. I must warn you that this is not a joke.
The setting for the story is a large industrial city, after the war, but before the advent of supermarkets. George Woods was middle aged, he couldn't read or write, and was Verger of St. Mark's Church. He had been Verger both before and after the War, and had been the only job he had ever had.
One day, a new Vicar was appointed, and after a while the new Vicar discovered that George couldn't read. He rather cruelly showed his horror at George's inability to read - or write - and told him he would have three months to learn, or he would have to leave, and he, the Vicar, would find a Verger who could read and write.
George was devastated, and left the Church to go home, but found he could not go straight home, but walked the streets worrying over his dilemma. He knew he was too old to learn to read or write, and wondered what he was going to do for a living, and how he could tell his dear wife.
Deep in thought he dug into his pockets for his pipe and tobacco, only to find he was out of tobacco. So he looked round where he was for a shop from which he could purchase some. He walked about for some time with no success, and this gave him an idea.
With a more spritely step, he went home. He explained how cruel the Vicar had been, how he had walked the streets, how he had run out of tobacco for his pipe, and that there was no shop where he buy some in that area. His brilliant idea was he would find an empty shop to rent in that area, and open it as a Tobacconist. He had some meagre savings, and very quickly found suitable premises, and was soon trading as a Tobacconist, with his wife helping out. After a year, he realised there was another district that could do with a Tobacconist shop, and so he opened one there too.
After several years, he had ten shops throughout the City, all trading very successfully. One day his Bank Manager called him in and explained that there was so much money in his current account, that he would like to advise that some of it should invested in areas where he would gain a higher rate of interest. Would Mr Woods care to allow the Manager draw up some papers for him. Agreed. The following week, George visited his bank, and the Manager presented him with papers to read and sign. George made to sign the documents without reading them of course, and the Manager stopped him, and insisted that he should read them first. George shuffled in his seat, and embarrassed, explained that he couldn't read. "Goodness" cried the Manager, "you've managed to succeed so well in business without being able to read or write. Just imagine where you would be if you had learnt to be if you learnt." George replied, "I know exactly where I would be if I had learnt to read and write - I would be the Verger of St. Mark's Church !!!"
