ErnieSAID: StoryTelling Corner. January 25th 2018.

The story behind Episode Three:

How Did I Get Here?

There is, I am told, an ‘Ugly Truth’ for females.

If all the novels, all the plays, and all the films where females are main characters were removed, shelves would still be full. If all the novels, plays and films where females spoke as often as men were removed, the shelves would be empty.

StoryTelling Corner aims to redress the balance with an evening dedicated to female storytellers of the highest quality.

The first evening of 2018 gives four special guest speakers the stage to open up the year. Jo 'Happiness' Howard, Helena Whyment-Lester, Stephanie Summers and Julie Goddard, will enthral us all with two hours of fiction and non-fiction stories.

These compelling stories, physical, psychological and mystical, will be all woven into an evening where everyone can sit back and be entertained.

Held at the Slate Art Gallery, the venue provides the perfect setting for tales told in a location where artists’ lives are placed in full public view.

Tickets are priced at £7.00, or £6.00 for StoryTelling Corner members. How do you become a member? Simply like our page and join our StoryTelling Corner community page! Tickets can be purchased at or by contacting Ernie Boxall, or 07962 216833.


Falling Off A Scooter...Reasons To be Grateful!


Falling Off A Motor Scooter and the Reasons I am Grateful!
Ernie Boxall


On Friday 8th, December, 2018 I became very grateful. After being thrown off a motor scooter I found so many reasons to be grateful, but how?

I had a full day of meetings and work and left home in the bright sunshine. A T'ai Chi session and a 1-2-1 meeting with a business owner in the morning, up to 2 pm. I was due to meet a client for an exercise session at 3 pm, but she called to ask if 3.30 pm would be OK?

I agreed and arrived at the centre in plenty of time, we had a one-hour session which finished at 4.30 pm.

By this time, the evening had turned dark and cold, but the roads were clear of any snow so it seemed the ride home would be uneventful. How wrong could I be?

On the corner, the front wheel went from under me and threw me off the scooter. I hit the concrete and the scooter came down on my leg. In the cold and dark, I was trapped beneath it, on a dark corner with traffic behind me. What had I got to be grateful for?

  • Even though I was not travelling quickly I had my crash helmet on and it saved my head as it hit the road. 
  • The lady in the car behind me was travelling in the outside lane and slowly enough to stop and help me.
  • The driver of the car behind her, who did not have the patience to wait, drove on the inside of both of us and his wheels missed my head by a few feet.
  • When I picked the scooter up it started the first time and got me home. When I was home and in pain from ribs, I had a friend willing to drive me to the A&E.
  • The staff at A&E especially the way they dealt with drunks and even letting me stay inside until the bus came at 22.20.
  • The bus route took me passed Leamington Spa Station where taxis line up.
  • the taxi ride only costing £8.

Grateful for all the people who have come on and support me.

I am also grateful for the skills and the opportunity to cover the event on Facebook Live so that I can tell my story, tell people I am grateful and get the story out of my system.


If you would like to work with me on telling your story...Connect with me at 





The Story of Storytelling Corner...Have you got a story you can tell?

Tunkashila…From the Birth of Turtle Island to the Blood of Wounded Knee.                                  (Gerald Hausman)

“A Sioux medicine man once stopped in a field of grass to talk to a stone. Addressing it reverently, he called it Tunkashila, which means “grandfather,” “Oh, Grandfather, tell me how the the world began .” And the stone spoke.

Tunkashila, as the epigraph suggests, is the history of the world as told by a stone. It has been said that the little bears resemblance to the large: microcosm, macrocosm, which is why, in this case, a simple stone, a chip off a mountain, should rightly tell the tale of the beginning, middle, and the end of the world. In Native American mythology, this little stone harkens back, and bears witness to, the creation of the earth. It is, in this sense, a part of the stream of time, a part of the source of all things, a participant in the pageant of all life.
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These words brought home to me the importance of telling stories, because they may well have been used by Grandfathers and Grandmothers through the ages to keep the story of their people alive.

I was halfway up a mountain, in Leirvik, in small football clubhouse on the Faeroe Islands, celebrating a wedding of two people from a community of 800 inhabitants based at the foot of the mountain and hemmed in by the Atlantic Ocean.

Even in the recent history of the community, winter cut them off from their neighbours on the other side of the mountain and those on islands a few miles away. 

From November until March, snow, storms, hail, fierce winds and raging seas isolated this small group of people from almost all of their fellow countrymen and women. In this situation, all the people had to pass on the history of the past, was a story, and they had a brilliant way of passing on the tale.

One man, from one family, stood in the hall, as we waited in a circle ready for a ritual which had been undertaken at every wedding in the community going back into the mists of time. One man, whose father, grandfather and ancestors have been given the role of telling the history of the village going back to its beginnings. Each momentous event and the people involved were remembered by word of mouth, passed from one generation to another. 

The person standing in the hall at weddings, the beginning of a coming together which would increase the population of the village and its continuity. That person had the responsibility to commit to memory the past story and add to it from their generation.

All over the world, native people have used stories to keep their community together, used word of mouth to keep its people's identity strong.

In 2007, under a blue sky, as the chief of the Upper Mississippi Mdewakanton Lakota people stood centre stage, telling the young men and women of the tribe the history of their ancestors. The land he stood on, was the land his people lived on in the past. It was sacred and its story needed to be told because we all know what has happened to fractured communities across the world.

That moment in time, the book I have in front of me now and the memory of the wedding ceremony in the Faeroe Islands are the reason I wanted to open Storytelling Corner. The reason I want to give a space for people to tell their story. I hope you will join us.

Ernie Boxall.     
Storytelling Corner.

P.S. Have you got a story to tell or have you written a book about a story you can tell?