Description
Knotty Ash is a small area on the eastern fringe of Liverpool and neighbours the West Derby, Old Swan, Broadgreen, Dovecot and Huyton districts. Its name is derived from a gnarled ash tree which formerly stood near the present-day Knotty Ash public house.
In the 1960s it was made famous in the United Kingdom by stand-up comedian and local resident Ken Dodd, as the home of the dwarfish comic characters he called the Diddy Men. In his BBC children's television programme Ken Dodd And The Diddymen (1969), the fictitious Diddyland, boasting the highest sunshine rate in the world, was situated in the centre of Knotty Ash. The Diddy Men worked in the local "Jam Butty Mines". In 2004, Mr Dodd planted a new ash tree close to the site of the original.
Knotty Ash is mentioned in the lyrics of the song "Liverpool Lullaby" written by Stan Kelly-Bootle and was reportedly the site of the unsolved "Tiki" Murder in 1961 in which a housewife was killed in what was claimed to be a ritual linked to the worship of the Polynesian idol Tiki.
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Famous quotes containing the word description:
“I was here first introduced to Joe.... He was a good-looking Indian, twenty-four years old, apparently of unmixed blood, short and stout, with a broad face and reddish complexion, and eyes, methinks, narrower and more turned up at the outer corners than ours, answering to the description of his race. Besides his underclothing, he wore a red flannel shirt, woolen pants, and a black Kossuth hat, the ordinary dress of the lumberman, and, to a considerable extent, of the Penobscot Indian.”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)
“As they are not seen on their way down the streams, it is thought by fishermen that they never return, but waste away and die, clinging to rocks and stumps of trees for an indefinite period; a tragic feature in the scenery of the river bottoms worthy to be remembered with Shakespeare’s description of the sea-floor.”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)
“God damnit, why must all those journalists be such sticklers for detail? Why, they’d hold you to an accurate description of the first time you ever made love, expecting you to remember the color of the room and the shape of the windows.”
—Lyndon Baines Johnson (1908–1973)