Friday 23 July 1976 – went to Auntie Pam’s [Pam & Michael Harris]. Washed up. TV Invisible Man.
Saturday 24 July 1976 – Dinner party. Washed up. Olympics. Earnt [sic] 1 onion ring, 2 1/2p, & a peanut.
Something tells me that I started to twig, that weekend, that simply getting a bit of praise from my mum was inadequate reward for someone approaching the age of 14. Not that I ever managed to turn washing up into a fee paying avocation. I was soon to self-reward with some swigs of liqueur whenever I did the washing up, which didn’t help my finances any but did make me feel a bit better about it at the time.
Sunday 25 July 1976 – went to Mays [neighbours George and Winifred] for tea. V nice. TV Sabrina Affair [sic – I meant Sabrina Fair, although the film is simply titled Sabrina]
Monday 26 July 1976 – went to “Good as New” [helping in charity shop] all day. TV Get Some In
Tuesday 27 July 1976 – went to Hampton Court, then shop. Saw Dad & Mum in film.
I well remember Grandma Jenny taking me to Hampton Court when I was small and loving the maze and the grounds. This outing, as I don’t mention Grandma, was probably unaccompanied, although i suspect that I was with a friend from the street (probably Andy Levinson but possibly Stuart Harris) as I don’t think I was allowed that sort of outing completely alone at that stage.
Going on to the shop after Hampton Court will have made perfect sense, as the train from Hampton Court would for sure have stopped at Clapham Junction.
“Dad & Mum in film” will unquestionably have been “Motoring In France, 1958, Côte d’Azur”. It is a cracking good home movie – I would suggest the best my dad ever made. It is (was) made in Standard 8, but dad was an excellent cinematographer. The film also has a superb soundtrack with dad’s wicked sense of humour providing the narrative. I commend it to movie lovers everywhere.
So inspired was I when dad showed me this film at the shop and explained that there were several others in various states of sound track development and editing, I clearly was on a mission to sort out the family cine.
If I remember correctly, Dad also had an assortment of commercial films in stock that needed “sorting” – i.e. they had got mixed up in their boxes and/or needed improved labelling so that he might promote and sell them accurately.
Wednesday 28 July 1976 – went to shop. new cine projector: sound.
Thursday 29 July 1976 – went to shop. Cine films.
Friday 30 July 1976 – went to shop. Cine films etc.
I was in the movie business. And I had an idea of my own stewing, which started bubbling up to fruition the very next day.
Tuesday 13 July 1976 – library morn. TV Man About The House, Heart Attack documentary[?]
Wednesday 14 July 1976 – went to Auntie Winifred [May]. Went to sherry party, v. useful
I cannot imagine why I would have been invited to a sherry party, nor why it would have been useful. Perhaps I was still holding out hope for funding/printing options for my soon-to-be-defunct magazine project, Shalom. If any wise readers out there can enlighten me about the meaning of such a diary note by a 13-year-old, I’ll be grateful.
Thursday 15 July 1976 – Had Anil [Biltoo] & Andy [Levinson] (afternoon). TV Olympics, ancient [Chronicle – The First Olympics]
Friday 16 July 1976 – Andy morn. Cricket & snooker after. TV Invisible Man.
Saturday 17 July 1976 – Chased around for Shalom. TV Paramount Presents, Opening Olympics.
Cricket in that instance would have been a trip to Tooting Bec Common to play cricket. Snooker I think would have been at Stuart Harris’s house, as I am pretty sure that the Levinson family had table tennis and the Naff Harris family had snooker. So I suspect that Stuart would have been part of the Tooting Bec cricket “test” too on that Friday.
Sunday 18 July 1976 – classes good. Lazy afternoon. TV Diana Dors film [actually Pillow Talk with Doris Day not Diana Dors – schoolboy error! Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!] , MASH.
Private Eye could have had a lookalike field day – see headline photo.
Monday 19 July 1976 – Olympics & tape. TV Star Trek, Get Some In.
Tuesday 20 July 1976 – Olympics, tape etc. TV The Good Life, great.
Wednesday 21 July 1976 – uneventful day. La Manga a cert. All okey dokey.
Thursday 22 July 1976 – uneventful day. Olympics & Test. TV Bionic Woman, Bob Hope.
La Manga was our holiday destination a bit later that summer. More on that on Ogblog anon.
Nano Banana 2.1 (AI) Depiction Of Surrey v Kent, Midweek, Oval, 1976. (My “small crowd, plenty of kids” description has been taken too literally – I love it!)
Saturday 10 July 1976 – went to A[nil] Biltoo for afternoon. TV Joan Crawford film [probably The Command, which was Joan Weldon, not Joan Crawford!].
Monday 12 July 1976 – went to Oval: members seats!! TV Star Trek, Get Some In.
This is Anil Biltoo’s first mention in my diary. In truth, I don’t remember our friendship forming until the following academic year, but clearly we had initiated our friendship towards the end of the 3rd year and saw each other more than once during the holidays that summer.
This photo of Anil from the summer of 1979, in Mauritius. The stick he is wielding is sugar cane.
Not a mystery, just one of those temporal slips that my memory tends to make.
The main memory slip mystery item from those first few days of the summer holidays is the visit to The Oval.
I most certainly remember the visit and I remember being shown around the pavilion, walking around no doubt open-mouthed at the pictures of great players and events from days of yore.
So stuck in my brain was the memory of being shown around, that it returned to me by way of a dream the night before my next visit to that pavilion – 21 September 2005.
Of course I had been to The Oval many times between those visits – not least nine days earlier, to see the magical 5th day of the 5th test of 2005. Other Ogblog pieces will/already do cover such other visits.
But the night before my visit to see Surrey v Middlesex, secure in the knowledge that my reciprocal member’s rights would enable me to use the pavilion, I dreamt of walking through that building. When I awoke, I wondered whether my dream had been an accurate representation of the place or just a dream-like replica. But when I got to the Oval and actually started walking around the pavilion, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, as I realised that my memory, in sleep, had accurately dredged almost every permanent detail of that building. It wasn’t a sense of deja vu – because I HAD been there before; more than 29 years before. If you had asked me 24 hours before that second visit to describe the inside of the building, I could not even faintly have done so.
The memory really is a weird thing.
Irritatingly, my memory has entirely suppressed…
…and my diary is no help with this…
…the answers to the following two questions:
WHY did I have members’ access on Monday 12 July 1976?
Who was I with for that visit?
My gut feeling is that it was a sort-of end of term Alleyn’s School field trip, organised a few days after the end of term to coincide with a match that was worth visiting. That sort of field trip has Colin Page’s fingerprints all over it.
Micky Stewart – after whom that pavilion is now named, is, of course, an Alleyn’s School alum. He might have been a helpful conduit for such a visit.
But in truth I don’t recall. I just remember the open-mouthed pavilion tour and watching what I thought to be some very good cricket. It cemented my view that I wanted to bowl like Intikhab Alum, if only I could work out for myself how to deploy leg (wrist) spin. Spoiler alert: I NEVER worked out how to deploy leg spin.
Harry Wale, Paul Sherlock & Alleyn’s Boys Playing Water Polo
This piece is dedicated to the memory of our school mate, Mick Carroll, who tragically died in a swimming accident, 26 September 2026.
It really was a long hot summer that year. I sense that the school encouraged us towards the swimming pool to keep us cool after the exams that year.
Some while ago, David Wellbrook wrote (& kindly let me publish) a rather wonderful guest piece about the “what could possibly go wrong?” aspects of that school policy:
Here’s the extracts from my diary for those last few weeks of term.
Tuesday 22 June 1976 – all OK results flowing. Went to help U. George [May].
Wednesday 23 June 1976 – More good results. All serene.
I love the expression “all serene” to describe my feelings about my results being half-decent that year.
Thursday 24 June 1976 – Drama good. TV Porridge & Monty P & 2nd Verdict.
Friday 25 June 1976 – all OK Horniman museum great fun. Interesting.
Ah – I wondered when I wrote up Onkas Big Moka from December 1974 when I visited the Horniman Museum with the school and got to see some of those Melanesian male adornments in the flesh, as it were.
Eighteen months later is the answer. Great fun and interesting it must have been indeed.
Saturday 26 June 1976 – school morn. Lazy afternoon. Lloyd [Green]evening.
Sunday 27 June 1976 – Classes sports day. 3rd in long jump. Dined at Il Carretto.
In my mind I had won the long jump, but I suppose coming 3rd was bronze, which was some sort of prize. I vaguely remember having a certificate for that result, which I kept for longer than the event/result deserved.
Monday 28 June 1976 – came 2nd in class, nice day. TV Star Trek, Get Some In.
Who came first in 3BJ, denying me the top spot? Come on, own up. I seem to have been content with coming second and quite right too.
Tuesday 29 June 1976 – computer, swimming. TV Man [About] The House (D), USA
Thursday 1 July 1976 – went swimming. TV Porridge, Shadow Line [?].
Three days in a row when the main school matter to report was swimming, although I also note a couple of days fiddling with the computer. That was punch cards, punch tape, dial-up modems and all that palaver:
When computing just started to loom into our lives
Friday 2 July 1976 – went to G[randma] Anne’s, big Ida/Anthony row. TV Invisible Man, [It’s A] Knockout.
Rows involving Auntie Ida and Cousin Anthony were a regular feature of Harris family life back then. This was clearly a big one, given my clear description of it as such.
“Wimbledon afternoon and evening” in those days would have meant glued to the TV watching the tennis. As a kid, I could only have dreamt of actually sitting there on Centre Court or Number One Court as I have now done many times in my fortunate life.
Borg beat Nastase in straights – having beaten everyone in straights that year:
In those days all the doubles finals took place on that day too, hence afternoon AND evening. We also would have watched much of:
Chris Evert & Martina Navratilova bt Billie Jean King & Betty Stöve – Chris Evert’s only career Wimbledon doubles title and Martina Navratilova’s very first
Brian Gottfried & Raúl Ramírez bt Ross Case & Geoff Masters – I particularly remember this one being a really exciting five-setter. By the end of it my mum couldn’t bear to watch. Funny the things we remember.
Tony Roche & Françoise Dürr bt Dick Stockton & Rosie Casals
Sunday 4 July 1976 – BAD Shalom. Hayward Gallery. Great. TV USA Bicentenary
Bad in capital letters. I think that was the death knell for my Shalom magazine project. But fear not, other media activity sprang forth that summer.
I have very fond memories of that trip to the Hayward Gallery to see the Arts Of Islam exhibition, which I found fascinating. I had just done a school history project on the early history of Islam, of course. My father was deep into art. My mother wondered why our nice Jewish family was taking so much interest in Islamic art and history. Because it is really interesting and informative, mum.
Here’s a review of that exhibition (and other aspects of that festival) from the Telegraph.
With so many mentions of swimming in this piece, some tongue in cheek, I considered holding off from publishing the piece for a while.
But then I remembered Mick’s wicked sense of humour, marinated no doubt in his Irish roots. I think Mick would have wanted me to publish this piece as planned, and I decided to publish it dedicated to Mick’s memory.
Earworm for early July 1976 – I’m pretty sure Mick would approve of this track too:
THE LONG HOT SUMMER OF ’76 – RECOLLECTIONS OF A 14-YEAR-OLD WITH SPECIAL APPEARANCE BY A LUNATIC FRENCHMAN
It was a stormy Thursday afternoon (are there any others?). Me, myself, and three others who shall remain nameless (Chris Grant, Ben Clayson and Kevin Blythe), were chortling over Paul Hayes’ Freudian slip from earlier. He had inadvertently called Miss Lynch “Mum” and we were marvelling at how well they had kept their relationship secret and for so long. All six of us were amazed at the audacity of the lad and thoughts were now turning to the identity of the father. Bob Skelly, Percy Kingman and Mrs. Barden were put forward for consideration but we were unable to agree. Each candidate received five votes and so we were at stalemate. After much deliberation, we opted for the time-honoured tie-breaker of rock, paper, scissors and as you might have expected, it landed on tails. (Doesn’t it always?) So, decision made, Dave Stretton it was then. Let’s face it, he must have inherited his cool from somewhere.
But I digest. To our gullible Frenchman: It was around this time that Chris used to import young French boys for his amusement and this particular lost soul went by the name of Gotier. He had, I believe, been imported once before, so having met us now on more than one occasion, really ought to have known better. However, we all found ourselves down at the swimming pool. It was a natural hangout for those of us who liked to swim and play water polo and seemed even more appropriate on what was quite possibly a very hot day. Gotier was sweating profusely. I think he knew what Chris had planned for later. He kept muttering strange French words under his breath. “Baguette” was a particular favourite of his I seem to recall. Anyhow, one of us happened upon the anarchic idea of enticing Gotier to jump into the swimming pool fully clothed, and on the strict understanding that he then had to travel home with us to Beckenham et les environs completement mouille.
“How much shall we offer him?” asked Clayson. “How much do we have on us?” asked Blythe. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” enquired Grant, forever and to this day our moral compass. He perhaps felt that if there was any dampness involved it should be of his making and no other. “Yes, it’s a cracking idea,” I chipped in. “And let’s make him cry Vive la France as he goes under.”
We gathered our resources and came up with the tidy sum of £4 and a few pence. We approached the hapless Gotier with our proposal and having explained to him that with exchange rates being as they were at the time, that £4 and a few pence was uncommonly generous, he agreed.
And so the stage was set. I was elected to distract Harry Whale and Alan Berry, who at that precise moment were taking it in turns to slipper a 12-year-old, whilst the others were assigned the arduous task of pacing out Gotier’s run up. And then the moment arrived. With a Gallic scream of “Un, deux, trois, allez…!” Gotier was off, legging it poolwards as if he had not a care in the world. He leapt, he might even have somersaulted I honestly can’t remember, and there was a mighty splash followed by the gurgled incantation of “Vive la France, Vive la France.” Let’s give the boy his due. He did not let us down. Good for him. Only honourable Frenchman I’ve ever met.
Gotier was duly rewarded with his £4 and a few pence which he kindly used to buy us Maynards wine gums and Coca Cola down by Herne Hill station.
To this day, that incident (which is 100% true by the way), is my most vivid recollection of the Summer of ’76. That and being arrested for shoplifting in Millets.
Islam Feaver Observer 11 Apr 1976 The Observer (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com
