An 89-year-old man from Norfolk has successfully fought to save the last red telephone box in his village, sparking a national conversation about the value of traditional kiosks in the mobile age.
A Call to Action Against Closure
In January, Derek Harris discovered that BT had earmarked the iconic red K6 phone box in Sharrington, Norfolk, for closure. The kiosk, a design by Sir Giles Gilbert Scott dating from 1935, was under threat because it failed to meet BT's usage criteria. The company's policy stated that a box must handle at least 52 calls in a year to remain operational; by early 2024, fewer than 10 calls had been made from Sharrington's kiosk.
Determined to save what he saw as a cherished piece of community heritage, Harris launched a campaign. He began a relentless email correspondence with his local MP, district councillors, and BT itself. In a clever tactical move, he even sent photographs of BT engineers working nearby in their vans, as proof that maintaining the phone box was entirely feasible.
Community Rallies to Make the Numbers Up
The campaign quickly gained momentum, turning Harris into a local media star. To meet BT's usage threshold, the community organised a day where a queue of volunteers made more than 230 calls from the single kiosk. Harris emphasises that this was a collective effort, with support pouring in from Sharrington and surrounding villages.
"We had the massive turnout," Harris says. "It would have been impossible to have pulled this thing off had not so many people – local MP, district councillors, everyone – taken up the call to action." The story captured the public imagination, receiving national and global coverage. Harris believes it resonated because "quite a lot of people are getting fed up with being oppressed by big organisations."
In March, BT reversed its decision and agreed to keep the phone box open. Furthermore, during the summer, the company fully refurbished the K6, installing a new door and brass hinges. "It looks splendid," Harris notes with pride.
A Personal Fight with Profound Meaning
Unbeknownst to the public and most supporters at the time, Harris was fighting a deeply personal battle alongside the community campaign. In February, he received a diagnosis of inoperable cancer. He saw a poignant parallel between his own situation and the phone box's proposed 'death sentence'. The K6 was designed in the year of his birth, 1935, and he was fiercely determined that it should live on.
Harris initially refused to let his illness be mentioned, not wanting any sympathy or to detract from the phone box's intrinsic value. However, he has since acknowledged that the campaign gave him a vital sense of purpose during a profoundly difficult time. "It's been a good achievement," he reflects. "There's life in the old boy yet."
The victory was celebrated by the whole village. For his 90th birthday in July, Harris was thrown a garden party, and his card from the parish council featured a picture of the beloved red phone box. He also received a phone box-shaped fridge magnet.
Today, the K6 stands proudly refurbished, and Harris still visits it regularly on his walks, sometimes placing a call to keep the usage numbers healthy. He describes the view from the kiosk: "There's open fields, lovely panorama. I'm looking through clear glass." For Sharrington, the saved phone box is more than a functional relic; it's a symbol of community spirit and a testament to one man's tenacious fight for what he holds dear.
