A sad loss to the fabric of Bury’s drinking culture was the recent closure
and sale of the Dusty Miller on Crostons Road. On the face of it, this is just
another out of town boozer that has become a victim of changing times and
tides. However, the Dusty’s contribution to local beer history is far greater
than at first it might appear. Even though it dates from 1834 it was not
historically significant, although its 3-room layout was somewhat unusual and
the split room serving bar is becoming a rarity. No, the importance of the
Dusty lies in the history woven through its brickwork: of its customers and its
one time role as an important destination pub for real ale seekers.
An impressive list of Bury’s most well-known characters have propped up and,
in some case, fallen over its bar stools over the years. Indeed Eddie, the once
eager legal beagle, and his faithful sidekick Trumpet Dave were weaned on the
pumps there. And Eddie’s own esteemed father, the Oberst, has put in many
years’ faithful service in there as well. Not to mention CAMRA legend, Stuart
the Glass. At a time when beer choice was very limited, its acquisition by
Moorhouses offered a unique alternative to other offerings in the town. Its
progress was steady, as was the norm in the old school of pub management.
 |
| (1951)
There was no real mystery as to its eventual success. Through hard work
and effort the long-serving landlord built up local support through a series of
quiz and sports teams. It got into the Good Beer Guide and remained in for many
years. I recall several CAMRA meetings being held there and it was a popular
stop on the (in)famous Independents Day coach trips. It held beer
festivals-unusual in Bury pubs at that time and also offered another rarity of
the time: guest beers. Such was the buzz in pre-digital times that, when word
did get round of a particularly good one on offer, drinking plans were altered
and there was no need to guess where Bury’s finest imbibers were to be found. Another
thing it will be fondly remembered for is its legendary lock-ins. A
prerequisite for any good pub back in the day.
|
However, the Dusty was always balanced on something of a cliff edge. The
surrounding area was never gentrified and in its heyday relied on light
industry to supply its customers. When that declined, the pubs remained
something of an anachronism, full of strip acts and hardy drunks. The Dusty was
tame compared to the likes of the Blue Bell that had to have reinforced glass
to cope with all the damage wrought but, having been banned from his chosen
local, you would come across the odd headcase in there. When it was run as a tight ship, it was never a real problem and you got used to hearing some
interesting conversations about the merits of Moroccan Black.
 |
| (1978)
The reinvigoration of Bury town centre, the general decline of corner
street pubs and changes in personal further weakened the Dusty’s position. I
reported back in 2012 how it had been given an unexpected lift with Britain’s
self-proclaimed most controversial landlord, Nick Hogan, taking the helm. I said I was expecting fireworks, but sadly his reign proved more of a damp squib. It’s
fair to say than from his disastrous so-called celebrity opening night (more
people were interested in chatting to the Oberst than the alleged celebrity) to
his ill-judged remodel along the lines of an American diner, it was pretty much
a plunge to the bottom. As the last man standing, it had a window of opportunity
to cash in on that status but, with the locals leaving in droves, the clock was
ticking down.
|
In many ways the fate of the Dusty is symbolic of a familiar picture: a
victim of changing times and bad management. But for its ex-regulars its
closing is far more significant and marks the end of an era. For it wasn’t just another local, it was THEIR
local.
