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The first members of the Storyville Jazz Club started to arrive for the start of the lunchtime sessions. The two brothers, who are in charge of the door, are in a particularly joyful mood. Jim Evans, the older of the two brothers, was very animated when talking to Ben, his brother. They were excitedly discussing an event scheduled to take place the following morning in Red Cross Street in the city centre, involving Fat Harold, who had an awesome reputation among the bouncers who work the club doors in Liverpool. Harold was probably stricken with a compulsive disorder. Someone had informed him that two Norwegian merchant ships had docked in Liverpool. Harold immediately went to the pub situated on the dock road, where the crews of the foreign vessels visited. He ordered a pint of Guinness and stood at the bar to drink it.
Suddenly, Harold’s demeanor changed. Entering the pub was a huge, giant man. Harold waited until the barmaid served the Norwegian giant. He made his move in a situation Harold had perfected over the years to satisfy his affliction. He went over to the sailor and commenced to insult and abuse him., The sailor had had enough and agreed to meet Harold the following day to settle the abuse and insults. Harold was delighted, ‘
See you tomorrow at 10 o’clock, Red Cross Street Once again, Harold had managed to snare another victim to satisfy his illusions.
The following morning, the three of us (Yes, Ben had persuaded me to accompany them to Red Cross Street) entered the street from the Dock Road through a large archway. The street was still showing signs of the Luftwaffe’s visit. The first indication that the pub had a reputation was the Wild West-style swing doors. The Spartan interior was a deliberate, successful attempt to mimic the interior of a Wild West saloon. Today it’s heaving, there is a carnival atmosphere amongst the throbbing crowd of mainly bouncers who have come to see the governor, Fat Harold. The big Norwegian arrived with a multitude of support from the two recently docked ships. Some bright spark had opened a betting book. Jim and Ben naturally opted to follow the supporters to the bombed-out site situated between two buildings. I remained at the bar.' It's finished. Harold bit his ear, blood spurting all over the place; his ear was hanging, and they had arranged to take him to the Royal.' Jim and Ben had returned excited to the bar.
We returned to Temple Street in time for the start of the lunchtime session. We subsequently learned that the Royal Hospital sewed the Norwegian’s ear back, gave him pain killers, and discharged him. He immediately contacted Harold and rearranged the fight for the following day. Apparently, he battered Harold. See less

Liverpool City Council resolved in a meeting to clean up the dwellings in and around the city centre. It involved displacing thousands of households. The council built a new town called Kirby, approximately ten miles away, to rehouse them. Harold Hughes (Fat Harold) and his family were rehoused in this new township in its infancy, which resembled the Wild West frontier. Whitbread, a major, old, established brewery based in Warrington, built two large modern pubs in the town. They were plagued from the outset: rival gangs fought every night in the pubs, which were closed more often than they were open. Someone suggested to the brewery that they employ Harold at the doors, with the help of some of his Bouncer buddies; the establishments became safe and attractive. The brewery owned scores of pubs and hotels, and soon, Harold was relied upon to sort out any disorders. He was offered the tenancy of one of the pubs. He was now a valued employee of the brewery, and he was appointed head of security with a seat on the board of directors.