I was looking for a Patron for my South African expedition of 2004 and knew that Pete Postlethwaite lived locally near Church Stretton. 
I had been a fan of Pete’s since I saw him in Brassed Off in the 1990’s. A more time-worn rugged face you are unlikely to find. He would be ideal as my Patron.
So I thought I would track him down. I asked around “Does anyone know where Pete Postlethwaite lives?” although everyone knew he lived somewhere near Church Stretton nobody could give me an address. When my neighbour said “He lives somewhere near Church Stretton, I don’t know his address but my friend has seen him drinking in The Ragleth Inn at Little Stretton”. That was it – I had enough to go on.
I composed a letter which was not too creeping but gave enough respect to an Oscar nominated Hollywood actor, said by Steven Speilberg as being his favourite actor. In the letter I gave an outline of the expedition and what we were planning to do. Then I told him why I wanted him to be Patron and how having a household name would help our fundraising efforts (his especially) and – the killer blow – I apologised for disturbing his quiet drink in the pub and enclosed a 5 pound note for him to buy a drink.
I drove to The Ragleth Inn and spoke to the barmaid.
“Does Pete Postlethwaite drink in this pub?”
“Yes”
“Is he around at the moment?”
“Yes he is”
“Can I leave this letter for him behind the bar?”
“No problem”
About a week later I got a lovely letter written in his own hand (which I still have) from Pete giving me his address and phone number and an invitation to join him for a drink in The Ragleth. Plucking up the courage I rang the number. The phone rang and rang and then a lady answered.
“Hello, is Pete there please”
“Yes, sure who is calling”
I have my name hoping it would mean something to him and he came to the phone.
“Hi Pete” and off we go. I could scarcely belief I was talking to one of my favourite actors and making arrangements to meet on Sunday lunchtime for a drink.
Sunday came and excitedly I drove to The Ragleth, parked my car in the car park (didn’t want to appear eager so was a bit late) and wondered which of the cars in the car park was his – probably that big black 4 wheel Jeep. As I came round the front of the pub in the summer sunshine there was Pete sitting at a table outside the pub on the side of the quiet road drinking bitter and smoking Embassy Regal (the blue ones) in his gardening clothes.
He was more than happy to be patron of the expedition and agreed to come to the expedition launch several months later. I was not too grovelling but said that I was a fan of Brassed Off and we talked a bit about that and the other actors in it. He told me he was doing a stage play about a man who was 100 years old and as he recalls his life he takes one piece of clothing off until he gets to his birth naked.
As we sat outside the pub villagers passed by and shouted “Hi Pete” He answered “Hello” in the gravelly Northern accent, even knowing their names (his children go to the local school). “Hi Doris, are you going home to watch the snooker?”.
I told the local press and invited them to the expedition launch at Acton Burnell Hall and there Pete and I sat in the middle of the front row with people coming to ask him to sign autographs and talking to him about his films. He was given and OBE not soon after the expedition and I sent a card from all of us to congratulate him. That was the last contact I had with him.
Now he’s gone – died of cancer it seems. He smelled very strongly of stale cigarette smoke whenever I met him and apparently he had battled with cancer since the early 1990’s.