Unsung Heroes

Most observe doormen with a negative perception, maybe warranted in some cases and in others totally unfair.
I suppose views of doormen are pretty heavily influenced from our time as underage teens, walking up to bars or nightclubs, nervous and unsure of ourselves. Adults before our time, hoping to blend in with less than sophisticated actions and behaviours.
Young men, coursing with testosterone, hoping to impress our equally unsure female age group.
Males but with much less physical capability than we would like at this age, told to behave or being turned away, by much more physically capable and mature men.
Young girls coming of age, with far too much makeup on, either being responded to like the teenagers they wish not to be, or being leered at and taken advantage of by the minority of doormen who see young, drunk girls as an opportunity to embolden their own insecurities or desperation.
Young minds taking in what they perceive is the norm, and like all negative experiences in life, locking these automatic reactions away to be unleashed at unsuspecting doormen when again drunk and intoxicated as adults (the child within syndrome and all that).
When I was a teen I also acted as a teen myself and interactions with females were immature on both sides.
But when you become a man and observe either a young female or male in either distress or a very vulnerable state and can see the predators circling, the impulse for me and the many men I have worked with over a 23 year period is to help and protect.
I personally have taken male teens attacked, hurt or in danger into the premises I’ve been working on and on several occasions to their homes.
Females and males lying in the street alone and very vulnerable, too drunk to even stand but not warranting the wasting of time of an ambulance. I’ve ensured I could communicate with them enough to get a parents or family member’s phone number and rang mums and dads at stupid o’clock to come and collect their children.
My friends and colleagues have also acted in similar manner on many occasions and we have likely become friends in our work because we are kindred spirits. Such a friend – a man I still work with today and someone who has been a mainstay in Liverpool Bar & Clubland for near 40 years -warrants the best story I can tell about going beyond the call of duty.
Julius (Bunty) is a life guard (swimming baths) by day and, well yes, a life guard by night too, an all round superhero to be fair, and a man and a friend in the truest sense of the words.
Finishing his shift, driving home on New Year’s Day, freezing and dark, his full beam hits a figure laying in the perimeter of a well known Liverpool park that is a car cut through for many.
Stopping he realises the lad is not hurt but confused through a combo of likely drugs and alcohol and totally and completely stranded over ten miles from home.
Into the car he helps him and home he takes him to knock on the young lad’s front door and be greeted by a shocked but thankful father.
“I work at …. club” Julius says, which at the time was a well renowned gay and mixed club in Liverpool and went on to say he had found the man’s son in a vulnerable state.
Julius was tired, he wasn’t best comfortable with the scenario and he wasn’t explaining the circumstances fully but he could tell how the dad was taking in the information, who was also tired and likely not comfortable with a tough looking light skinned black man turning up at his suburban home on New Year’s Day, straight from a Gay Club with his intoxicated son.
Safe to say there was no letter to the Liverpool Echo by a very grateful parent to thank one of the unsung heroes of the club security world. Safe also to say there never are thank you letters, a good job then that we don’t do the job we do for the thanks we have come not to expect or on rare occasion receive.