26 September 2026
Why Tom Baker Was the Perfect Doctor Who: Memories of a 1970s Childhood
Everyone in the UK has their doctor and Tom Baker was mine. When he took on the role of Doctor Who, I was nine years old. I already loved the show but his appearance as the doctor took my appreciation to another level – one that would last for many years and still has its moments. My parents did not have a colour TV (they were not badly off by any means, but having been brought up in the war, they made do with things until they fell apart). My brother and I would ultimately pour enough water down the back of the television set for it not to be noticed but nevertheless be render it defunct – but that’s another story. I was allowed to go and watch the show at the house next door – an elderly childless widower (Mr Taylor) in his late eighties, who enjoyed the company and who had – miracle of miracles – a very large colour TV.
His house was like a time capsule – he had bought it in the 1920s and it hadn’t really changed. No gas fire – coal. Lamps used to light the rooms – dark, thick curtain, giant aspidistras. You get the idea – so going to watch Doctor Who there was like being in an episode of it myself, in many ways. When the show had a slightly gothic turn, the setting was perfect, much better than my parents' house with its bright lights and modern furniture - Mr Taylor's house, with its low lighting and bygone-age decor, the old paintings on the wall - perfect. Even the walk up his driveway was like a prologue to the episode – dark and more than a little spooky, with trees creaking overhead and the lights of his house shining dimly in the near-distance.
He (always dapper in a suit and tie, even at his age, and
looking more than a little like the first doctor, William Harnell) positioned
two high-backed chairs in front of the TV and always made sure that we didn’t
miss a second. We kept the Saturday evening visits going for years – even after
my parents had reluctantly had to buy their own colour TV, due to the mysterious
demise of their black and white.
I would regularly stay for the next couple of Saturday night
shows, and both of us were usually fast asleep by about 8pm – the only light in the
room coming from the fire. In the early
days of my visitations, when it got a little late for a nine-year old, my
father sometimes came and picked my recumbent form up from where I was dozing, carrying
me home and depositing me safely on my bed.
The visits went on for a few years, until one day on my
return home from school, I learned that Mr Taylor had had a fall. He had stood on a kitchen stool to reach a
tin from the top of a cupboard and had fallen.
He had managed to reach the tin – that was on the kitchen floor,
but so was he. I was reassured by my mum that he wouldn’t have felt a thing,
and it was a very speedy death – something the old man had always said he
wanted anyway – no hanging around in hospitals waiting for the inevitable for
him.
So, a nine year old and a ninety year old (rounding up)
brought together by the love of Doctor Who (he had adored it since it began). Of course, there were always three people in the
room. Mr Taylor, me and Tom Baker. That brings me to this video. Baker has always had a larger-than-life presence
in anything he does, and coming across the video below in my feed was a nice bit
of serendipity, so I thought I would share (it is made by Eat My Shorts).
It brought me back to those autumn and winter nights in the 1970s, sat in
the chair next to the lovely Mr Taylor, scared out of my wits over the daleks,
the wirrrn and other assorted monsters.
Not that I ever felt in any danger – Tom Baker (sorry, Doctor Who)
would always triumph in the end. And
even if he didn’t, I suspected that Mr Taylor had a Tardis of his own secreted
somewhere in his house… Take a look at
what made Tom Baker an amazing choice for Doctor Who.






































