My philosophy in life has always been "if it needs doing, get on and do it".

Crossing the Downs in the late Eighties on my way to work in the city centre, my attention was drawn to the dilapidated state of the little wooden bus shelter on Stoke Road just before the Upper Belgrave Road traffic lights.

Its double-angled roof had a lovely form, but it was fast deteriorating due to progressive acts of vandalism.

As the then chairman of the Sneyd Park Residents' Association, I carried out a weekly review of planning applications in the area and was aware that the Downs Committee had wanted to have the shelter demolished but had been refused.

Shortly after, in 1990, I contacted the Downs Committee to ask if they'd allow the residents' association to carry out repairs if we could raise sufficient money.

After several exchanges of correspondence, my request was granted, and I then submitted the idea to the association committee, several of whose members offered to help me rebuild the shelter.

By fortunate coincidence, the husband of our committee secretary was the owner of Wickham & Norris timber yard in Wapping Dock, and a quantity survey carried out on our behalf estimated timber costs to be about £2,500.

The shelter was to be re-roofed with Canadian cedar shingles and the main body repaired with American oak – many of the replacement timbers, such as missing roof buttresses, being specially cut and shaped.

An appeal in the residents' newsletter to members – including Aldo Berni, of Berni Inns fame – raised £2,000, the £500 shortfall being donated by the city council parks department. Timber was then ordered.

The weather in the summer of 1991 was good, and on July 6, 1991, work was launched. Chairman elect of the residents' association, Aubrey Matthews, and vice chairman John Bretton, undertook the work on the main body, John Mackenzie focussed on the roofing struts and I undertook repairs to the roof.

Early work on the main body included rot-treating the base of all main corner oak timbers, applying wood hardener followed by fibreglass. Walls and inside ceiling were panelled with specially cut oak "tongue and groove" boards. Although the original building had had windows on the back and sides, it was decided for anti-vandal reasons to panel these in.

Before roof shingling could start, the roof space had to be cleared of charred timber, pigeons' eggs and nests. This filled six sacks. Once cleaned out, deteriorated rafters were rot-proofed, treated and repaired with new end pieces.

The next task was to shingle the roof. This meant removing all existing shingles and replacing rotted battens, starting from the roof edge and working up to the ridge. When completed, both top and side ridges had to covered with special ridge shingles.

It should be said at this stage that while none of us had undertaken such work before, we quickly learnt the skills as work proceeded.

While my three colleagues were fully retired, I was still in active employment, often travelling overseas in my job as a cosmetic chemist with Unilever, so repair work had to be undertaken in bursts of activity when I was at home. As a result, the complete repair job took three months.

In September, with repair work nearing completion, I was aware that our skills did not extend to the rebuilding and replacement of the oak bench seat which had long since disappeared, so I called on resident Sneyd Park builder Mike Keefe, who agreed to offer his services to replace the seat free of charge.

All structural work being done, there remained only the sealing of the timbers and creosoting the roof before all was ready for the grand opening.

Invitations were sent out to all residents who had contributed to the earlier appeal and to Lord Mayor Peter Abraham and Lady Mayoress Pearl who were invited to cut the tape.

On Monday, September 30, 1991, the grand reopening took place, with the Lord Mayor and guests arriving in the famous green vintage omnibus.

During the work that summer, we had much contact with passers by who told us that the shelter had been built in about 1938 and had been the first bus stop on the Downs linking the tram, whose terminus was at Blackboy Hill, with the omnibus to the outer suburbs.

One lady mentioned that there had been trees on the corner near the shelter, and that in the late 1930s Oswald Moseley had addressed the crowd there as it was used as Speakers' Corner.

Having taken on board the task of repairing the shelter, I felt it my duty to maintain the shelter in good condition.

As a result, since 1991 – and as a personal therapy routine – the shelter is visited each Sunday morning at about 7.45am, before church, to remove all Saturday night rubbish and wash the floor, removing any~ urine and other excrement from the Saturday night activities. About 12 years ago, on one of my Sunday visits, I used to meet a little lady with her worldly goods in a wheelie cart who slept overnight in the shelter and went to the nearby ladies WC to undertake her daily ablutions. At that time, I often travelled to the Middle East on business, and she was usually there on Sunday morning reading The Times and asking me very knowledgeable questions about King Hussein and other Middle East issues. Such an incongruous encounter, and really rather sad, as I reflect back.

Over the years, any vandalism and graffiti (and there has been quite a lot) is repaired or removed within 24 hours. However, after one serious bout about five years ago just before Bonfire Night, vandals smashed the side in with an iron bar.

My good friend Aubrey Matthews who helps me re-varnish the shelter from time to time helped me repair the damaged side and install a laminated glass window to allow people to see the arriving buses. Sadly, this lasted only two years before being smashed, so we haven't replaced it.

Today, after 17 years of tender loving care, the shelter is still standing and in pretty good condition, despite the various assaults by thoughtless, drunken vandals.

Fast approaching my big 70, I do, however, plan to continue this labour of love for many years to come.