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Slow going for Olympian

I READ with interest the story of Arnold Strode-Jackson (last Monday’s Oxford Mail).

I worked at his house in Norham Gardens Road. I remember him sat at a large desk, surrounding by papers and books. He always had a glass of spirits, with his cat sat on the table. I’m sure he wore a monocle, and smoked a big cigar.

One day, I was working at another house in the same road, when he walked by in his slippers, using a walking stick.

I remember him saying to me: “To think I was one of the fastest men in the world, now I’m the bloody slowest!”

DAVID FIRKIN Upway Road Headington

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