David Nolan - Tony Wilson - Youre Entitled to an Opinion But. . .: The High times and many lives of the man behind Factory Records and The Hacienda

What does education do? It makes a straight-cut ditch of a free, meandering brook

HENRY DAVID THOREAU

I n an opening flourish of contrariness that would become a constant throughout his 57-and-a-half years, the man who became known as Mr Manchester wasnt from Manchester at all. Anthony Howard Wilson was born in Hope Hospital, Salford on 20 February 1950. The fact that he was actually born in the city next door to the one with which he is associated was something he never tired of pointing out to those unfortunate enough to make the mistake. Leaning forward surprisingly tall and broad Wilson would fix you with a firm dose of eye contact across the top of the discreetly expensive glasses on the tip of his nose. Actually, darling Im from Salford. In 1978 he introduced viewers of his regional arts slot on Granada Television to a new band. They were called Joy Division. He explained they were from Manchester, apart from the guitarist, who was from Salford: Very important difference.

Plonked directly to the west of Manchester, Salford gets very uppity if you overlook the fact that it is a city. Its been one since 1926 yet in over 80 years no one has managed to provide it with a city centre. Its never had one and there are no plans to get one. Its a contrary place is Salford and it breeds contrary people.

Salford is a multi-skiller. Its many and varied districts offer a different facet of the city depending on which area you go to. Theres the streetwise, unorthodox Ordsall and Weaste, the leafily genteel Worsley and Boothstown, and the shiny, envy-inducing Quays. Just looking at one and accepting it as being representative would not do the place justice. Today, as you cross the border into the city, gaudy pink signs erected by the council inform you that you are now IN SALFORD. The signs manage the difficult trick of being informative, attention-grabbing, slightly incongruous and rather camp all at the same time.

Tony Wilsons forbears were busy folk; European of stock and shopkeepers by nature. My grandfather was German, Tony told Eyewitness in Manchester in 1998. He came here in 1901. First he went to America, then came back to Salford. Were the great immigrant city foreigners are welcomed, its so hospitable to outsiders, they thrive and do so well, they become part of the city.

Tonys grandfather, Herman Maximillian Knupfer, married four times after he arrived in Britain from Freiberg. Three times he was made a widower; he was in his late seventies when he married for the final time on the Isle of Man, where hed moved for tax reasons. He had seven children through his life: Karl, Edgar, Doris, John, Lilly, Herman and Rose. The children of Hermans first and second marriages were to form the unusual family unit that surrounded the young Tony Wilson. Karl came from the first marriage and Edgar and Doris from the second.

Herman Knupfer was apprenticed to a Salford jeweller and watchmaker called Mr Ranks, with premises at 238 Regent Road, the main drag from Manchester city centre into Salford. When Ranks died, Herman got the money together to take over the business.

Salford wasnt such a welcoming city for German immigrants after the outbreak of World War I and the windows of Herman Knupfers jewellery store were smashed in. Karl had joined the British army and a picture of him in uniform was swiftly displayed in the repaired window. The attacks stopped as quickly as they had begun.

The mini-business empire of the Knupfers expanded. To this day, the name is a familiar one to older Salford residents who recall the entrepreneurial family and the service they provided to the people of the city. Karl took over the shop and Edgar opened another jewellers at nearby Cadishead before shifting nearer the other Knupfers to a shop at 80 Church Street, Eccles. Both stores were upmarket and they would answer phone calls to the shops with the words: Knupfer Brothers Salfords leading jewellers

Doris was more than a match for the male Knupfers and opened up a tobacconist at 448 Regent Road. Shed married a man named Tom McNulty and the shop bore his surname. McNulty died its believed in a motorbike crash and Doris was left a widow. By this stage, Karl had also lost his wife. Edgar would never marry.