THE recent death and tributes in the BEN (Bill Flannagan, Nov 28) brought back a memory of my meeting the 'blind gentleman'.

I used to travel frequently by train to London, returning often by the 6pm Euston to Manchester London Road, arriving at 9.30pm, giving time to cross Manchester to catch the No 8 bus to Bolton and then the last bus home to Deane.

This particular evening, during the return journey, the ticket collector came down the central open compartment, tables seating four each side, and a dog went for him. The owner apologised for its behaviour, but said he had released it for its comfort and it was only being protective. The owner was blind and told me he was going to the BBC to make a film of the blind with dogs and said he was the longest owner of a guide dog in the country.

It was usual, after the train left Stockport, for passengers to stand up, get hand luggage and coats, and make way up to the train's exit doors, ready for a quick departure. As there are doors each side, it was 'pot luck' if you were at the correct side, with someone looking, ready to shout: "It's this side" or "the other side".

Long before the train entered the station, the dog moved to the correct side. The man said to me: "It's this side tonight. The dog always knows and is never wrong."

Thinking I would assist him, I thought I would help him through the crowds as a fast exit helped to catch one's bus -- so he would have helped me. He just held on to his dog's collar and went through the crowd as if no one was there, touching no one, and the last I saw of him, after I had struggled out of the station, he was way down the slope from the station to catch his bus (I think, he said, to Atherton). No sighted person could have got through faster.

DAS

Bolton