When I was looking for pictures of The Barrel on Google earlier today I found this:
https://www.birminghammail.co.uk/news/local-news/council-close-handsworth-pub-the-barrel-3720
-so it was shut down finally in 2012, and now "Google maps" show it, in 2017, as a sari shop! Nice to see that the old Tibbetts' shop next door (the other side of Louisa Road) is still selling fruit and veg. though! Does anyone remember Gertie and Ted Tibbetts - she was in charge of the fruit and he the fish?
Back on track, your Mum, Margaret, must have known my parents - Gethin Davies used to drink in the "Frighted Horse" quite regularly during the sixties, but rarely took my Mum there. They went together to the Barrel every Friday and Saturday night, to socialise with friends - the Tibbetts, Councillor Tommy Ryder, "Little Stan", Doris and Arthur Harrison, Margaret and Arthur Salisbury,....and many more. Dad, being a Welshman, would stand up and sing all his favourite hymns and songs, often joined by Gertie Tibbetts -together they would sing an aria from "Madam Butterfly" - and drinks would be sent over to them from all the customers, resulting in both becoming rather the worse for wear and missing the top notes!!
Dad was also, along with some of the aforementioned, heavily involved with the "29 Club". This was formed by a group of local chaps - business men, shop keepers, working men - who were regulars at the Barrel, as a sort of charity, raising money for local causes. They met once a month, on a Sunday morning, in the little snug at the back of the pub to plan, and later sell tickets (beautifully gold edged!) for events such as raffles, coach trips and dinner dances (at the Farcroft or the Red Lion) which were open to anyone who wanted to attend. Membership of the "29 Club" was, however, strictly limited to men! For many years, my Dad was Chairman and his father-in-law, Joe Aston (usually drank in the Boulton) was coerced into being the secretary/treasurer.
Your Mum would probably also have known the young, Salvation Army girl who called in on Friday and Saturday nights with her collecting tin. Dad used to worry about her walking to the next pub all alone, especially with her tin, and so would leave my Mum (to look after his whisky), and escort the young lady to the Cross Guns or the Frighted horse , where he would hand her over to a trusted customer, who would in turn take her to the next pub.
I can remember so many evenings, being left alone in the beer garden, or by the "outdoor" in the back hall of the pub, or even in the front porch to the lounge, with a glass of lemonade and a back of crisps, when my Grandfather wasn't able to "babysit" - it was often so cold and dark, and I didn't dare open the door to call for more pop, but I always felt safe!
I've written sufficient for now, but if your Mum, or anyone else, remembers the bear, kept in the garden at the Barrel, ask and I'll tell quite a tale!!