OUR most dramatic photograph this week in 1977 showed a man with his head bowed in deep concentration as he grasped the skull of a seated woman.

The man was Dennis Kirkham, a Swindon faith healer who appeared frequently in our pages during the later part of the decade.

The woman was Gladys Sobey, who had come to him because she suffered from chronic pain.

At the time, Mr Kirkham was reaching the height of his local fame.

Our reporter wrote: “The Eldene flat of Swindon miracle man Dennis Kirkham is rapidly becoming a shrine as people crowd into his front room in the hope of an instant cure.

“I attended his first mass healing and taxis were pulling up two at a time with people seeking his help.

“The atmosphere was tense as we waited for the 55-year-old night security officer with the gift of healing to join us.”

Many of those present reported feeling better after Mr Kirkham laid hands on them. Our reporter brought along a colleague who tested Mr Kirkham’s claims by having him try to cure his short-sightedness.

Mr Kirkham put his hands on the man’s head and said: “Please pray for this man’s eyes.”

Our guinea pig said afterwards: “By any standards any improvement in vision would be remarkable.

“I have been very short-sighted for most of my life. When Mr Kirkham shook hands he gripped my hand and afterwards my right hand was much cooler than the other.

“This may have been coincidence and I would not like to influence people one way or the other.”

Our opinion column was similarly cautious: “...we must emphasise that we are merely reporting at this stage; we are neither condoning nor condemning.”

Faith healing wasn’t the only mystery we invited readers to ponder that week.

The new housekeeper at Avebury Manor, Connie Wheeler, had discovered that the coffee table in the sitting room of her quarters was in fact the disguised cover of a pre-16th century well which was at least 60 feet deep.

Mrs Wheeler said: “We think this place used to be a monastery, which was probably destroyed in the inquisition of the 16th century.

“We also think my home was built around the well, which would explain it being in the middle of the living room.”

The Adver was there to see diver Steve Devlin, of Swindon Sub-Aqua Club, lowered into the murky depths. They, like Mrs Wheeler, had hoped to discover historic relics, but hours of sifting silt yielded only a couple of rusty bolts.

Back in Swindon, two celebrities visited on separate missions.

The more famous was Barbara Windsor, whose public appearances were always a major draw.

We said: “The blonde and busty star of countless Carry On films was an instant hit with the fans who clamoured for autographs when she opened Swindon’s latest big store, Cavendish Woodhouse in Regent Street.

“Hundreds of shoppers queued for well over two hours to meet their Babs and they were not disappointed.”

Some of the people she chatted with were Londoners who had moved to Swindon for new jobs and homes years earlier, and the star was happy to share memories of her own childhood in Whitechapel.

Cavendish Woodhouse was a chain of furniture shops.

Swindon’s other famous visitor was former Playboy model turned photographer Suze Randall, who was promoting her newly-published autobiography. It was subtitled: “The girl who clicked on both sides of the Playboy camera.

We revealed: “If nurses had been better paid ten years ago, Suze Randall might never have made it to the top of the hedonistic heap in Hugh Hefner’s Playboy world.

“She wouldn’t have needed to boost her income by posing as a nude model in her off-duty spells from St George’s teaching hospital in London.”

Suze, who had lately been a Playboy staff photographer, asked: “What’s wrong with erotic pictures?

“We’ve always had erotic paintings and sculptures. At one time they were described as pornographic. Now they’re acclaimed as great art.

“I don’t want to sound pretentious, but I do try to make my work as beautiful as possible. We spend an enormous amount of time and energy on lighting, for instance.”

Back in the everyday world, there was grim news from the growing new Toothill estate, which was suffering a spate of vandalism.

“The Toothill wreckers,” we said, “are setting ‘man traps’ and leaving broken bottles at the bottom of a slide in a wave of havoc that may already have cost £10,000.

“Now building workers are threatening to quit unless the vandalism stops.”

The man traps we mentioned involved removing metal inspection shaft covers, throwing them down the shafts and covering the openings with ferns and other vegetation.