Features

Mickey, the East End hero

Independents
David Baker recalls Mickey Davis and his heroism during the second world war

View PDF 

 Get adobe

The Mickey of the title was Mickey Davis, a three-feet three-inch tall optician often referred to as 'Mickey the Midget' in his local community. He was at the centre of an amazing episode that took place in Spitalfields during the height of the Blitz in 1940. Widely reported at the time, even in America, it is not much known about now, but it is a story that deserves retelling.

When the bombs were raining down on London, the wealthy could retire to safety in the country or, as the government liked to illustrate in a misguided effort to raise morale, were socialising and partying as normal in West End venues (many of which had reinforced basement clubs). The ordinary Londoner had no other option than to stay put, faced with pitifully inadequate provisions for shelter from the air raids.

On September 15, 1940, around 100 people pushed their way into the Savoy hotel demanding shelter; an air raid alert sounded and they refused to leave until the all-clear was heard. They had made their point. Tube stations had become popular places to shelter, but they were not without danger, as bombs hit Balham, Bounds Green and Bank, where 50 people were killed by a direct hit on the ticket hall. Mickey Davis' actions helped to bring about a change in government thinking on protection of the public.

Horrendous conditions

The now disused Fruit and Wool Exchange, a 1920s art deco building with an imposing facade, stands in Brushfield Street, Spitalfields, in the heart of the East End. During the Blitz thousands of people crowded into its huge basement as people took it upon themselves to find somewhere to shelter. The conditions were horrendous. By 7.30pm, every bit of floor space was covered; people slept on bags of rubbish, there were no sanitary facilities, so the floor became awash with urine, there was no room to move, lighting was dim at best and the passageways were filthy. There was space for an estimated 2,500 people but, on the first night of opening, nearly double that number crammed in.

Stepney Borough Council expressed concern at the situation, but it was local activist Mickey Davis, aged 29, who stepped in as unofficial leader of the shelter and set about improving conditions. Mike Brooke, Mickey's nephew and for many years a local journalist, researched the story for the East London Advertiser in 2010 in which he tells how Mickey set up first aid and medical units. He not only persuaded off-duty stretcher bearers to tend the sick and injured; he also managed to get a GP acquaintance to make a two-hour journey each day to spend nights in the shelter. Wealthy friends donated drugs and equipment for a dispensary. This free medical service (pre-NHS) was augmented by the introduction of hygiene and disease-prevention practices.

Mickey also set up a card index database of all the shelter users. In order to feed the people, he managed to secure donations of food from Marks & Spencer for the setting up and running of a canteen, the profits from which were then used to provide free milk for the children.

Heart of a giant

Finally the government got around to appointing official shelter marshals. This made Mickey redundant, but the first action of the Spitalfields Shelter Committee was to vote the man who had become known as 'the midget with the heart of a giant' back into office as their shelter marshal. Mickey's story gained coverage across the Atlantic. Drew Middleton, a reporter for the New York Times, toured the shelter with Mickey and wrote a syndicated piece about him.

Middleton describes Mickey as being less than four feet tall, 'his back humped and misshapen'. The report continues: 'He is master and policeman, judge, father-confessor and elder brother to these thousands of the East End whose homes have been wrecked by the terror that flies by night.'

Mickey tells Middleton that, 'He hasn't drawn any pay for it since he moved in on September 13 and found "just plain hell". Running the shelter gives him something to do since the Luftwaffe blew his "nice little optician's shop" to bits.' The report was seen across America; for instance in the St Petersburg Times (Florida), with the headline on December 1, 1940, 'Dwarf Runs London Air Raid Shelter Which Houses 3,000 Homeless Nightly' and The Spokesman-Review (Spokane, Washington) 'Dwarf Master of Refuge' (Dec 2, 1940).

After the war, Mickey continued to live locally, at 103 Commercial Street, where his daughters continued to reside until the 1990s, and continued his public service by becoming a councillor on Stepney Borough Council in 1949. He was elected Deputy Mayor in 1956 but died that year, at the age of 46, before he could take up the post of Mayor which he was due to do the following year. His wife, Doris, who helped Mickey run the shelter, lived on until around 10 years ago.

Optical mystery

Details of Mickey's optical career are a mystery. The above newspaper report quotes him as saying that his 'nice little optician's shop' was bombed, but details of the shop are elusive. Presumably, the way he describes it, the shop was his rather than him merely working there; but there appears to be no record of the shop's name or location.

A trawl of the London trade directories for the period, held at the Guildhall, reveals no businesses in the optical sector in the right area under the name of Davis or Davies. The BOA museum and SMC archives found no Mickey or Michael Davis in its optical sources for the period and, as his nephew Mike Brooke was only a schoolboy when his uncle died, he has no information about this to pass on. Even the Tower Hamlets Local History Library and Archives, the home of Stepney Borough Council papers, has no reference to Mickey's optical career. Strangely, their file on Davis is listed under 'Davies' with a note that it was often mis-spelt as Davis; Brooke is adamant that the opposite is the case and, as a close relative, one would think he was most likely correct.

The Bishopsgate Institute, just around the corner from the Fruit and Wool Exchange, holds a repository of local press cuttings. It may be that lurking there is a report of the bombing of Mickey's shop; but the cuttings are organised by street so finding it would entail either a lucky guess or an extremely time-consuming trawl of the whole archive.

Campaign to save the 'shelter'

The building which housed 'Mickey's shelter' still survives - but perhaps not for long. When Spitalfields Fruit and Vegetable Market moved out of the area in 1991 there were no local businesses for the wholesalers, who bought their produce from the auctions held at the Fruit and Wool Exchange, to supply. Now the site is due for redevelopment, despite the historic nature of the building and the existence of wartime artefacts and graffiti in the basement.

Boris Johnson, Mayor of London, has overruled Tower Hamlets Council's two-time rejection of the development plan, although there is an ongoing campaign led by television historian and local resident, Dan Cruickshank, and the Spitalfields Community Group, and English Heritage is now actively considering listing the site.

It would be a shame if the Fruit and Wool Exchange were to disappear. Mickey Davis certainly deserves to be remembered as an example of selfless public service in the face of official indifference at a time of extreme duress. ?

Acknowlegement

The author thanks Mike Brooke for his assistance and advice.

? David Baker is an independent optometrist

Related Articles