So much happened in that week, which was the last of my second year at Alleyn’s. Here’s the diary page.
Naturally, readers are already writing in to complain that they cannot read my scribble, even though I haven’t even finished writing up this piece yet. Here’s a transcript:
Sunday, 6 July 1975 – Went to classes. Grandma Anne gave me £100. Great.
Monday, 7 July 1975 – more relaxing. Fives good. TV Sportstown, Star Trek, Waltons, Horizon.
Tuesday, 8 July 1975 – classes good. No bar mitzvah class. Uneventful.
Wednesday, 9 July 1975 – we won cricket. I got a hat-trick and eight runs. TV The Ascent of Man.
Thursday, 10 July 1975 – classes good. Picking up mix-up. TV Jacques Cousteau, Comedy of Marriage.
Friday, 11 July 1975 – broke up from school hurrah. TV Walt Disney, Celebrity Knockout. England flop in first test.
Saturday 12 July 1975 – shule in the morning, Andrew in the afternoon. Aussies dish out more punishment. Susan’s wedding.
£100 was a princely sum in those days. This was my bar mitzvah present. Of course I was allowed nowhere near it – straight into a savings account where it probably ended up making a small but significant contribution to the first deposit I made on a flat nearly a quarter-of-a-century later.
I have also previously written up my hat trick taking heroics in the cricket at Alleyn’s school. A relatively common topic of my conversation, even 50 years later, when talking about my own cricket playing “career”…because there’s not much else of note to talk about.
The phrase, “broke up from school hurrah” sounds like something out of a Billy Bunter book and doesn’t read like me – but it does indicate my enthusiasm for that Alleyn’s school year to have ended – an annus mirabilis (by my standards) in sport but annus horribilis academically.
I had been eagerly anticipating the opportunity to follow England in the 1975 Ashes. I had not fully engaged with cricket aged 9/10 when Australia had previously visited, in 1972. By 1975, I was a proper cricket-mad youngster.
I suspect that I spent more time than was good for me watching that cricketing road crash unfold in slow motion. 50 years later, I realise that my habits, in that regard, have not changed much.
I didn’t much follow popular music back then, but I do recall that Van McCoy’s The Hustle was riding high in the charts that summer and was my earworm around the time we broke up from school.
Can you listen to and watch the following vid without trying some of the moves and getting the whole tune stuck in your head as an earworm? Of course you can’t.
On 23 September 2016, I was honoured to witness live Toby Roland-Jones taking a hat-trick for Middlesex, sealing the County Championship for my beloved county – naturally I Ogblogged about it – here…
…but that wasn’t the first time I had witnessed a hat-trick live. Indeed, it wasn’t the first time that month, September 2016, that I had witnessed a hat-trick live – I saw Middlesex on the wrong side of one at Trent Bridge, Nottinghamshire – Ogblogged about here – just 17 days before the day of glory…
…but that Trent Bridge one wasn’t the first hat-trick I had witnessed live, although it was the first professional one.
The first hat-trick I witnessed live (and the last one for more than 40 years) was, remarkably, my own.
I don’t have many glorious feats of cricket to report. Let’s be honest about it; I’m not much good at playing cricket. I love it, but I’ve never been much use at it. But on 9 July 1975, the last match of 2AK’s trophy-winning season, I reported with little ceremony in my diary the following:
The irony of having watched The Ascent Of Man after such an auspicious sporting achievement is not wasted on me.
I remember the hat-trick remarkably well. I am pretty sure we were playing up on Alleyn’s top fields – not the very top one but the large, “lower top field”. That was mostly used as the second eleven pitch, but for the juniors I recall that field was divided in two, with a couple of strategically located mini-squares, so all four classes could play at the same time.
I can’t remember the name of the master who was umpiring. I do remember that my first wicket was a clean bowled and the second was a caught and bowled. The master and I then had the following conversation:
“Do you realise that you are on a hat-trick, Mr Harris?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“What are you proposing to do about it?”
“I’m going to try and bowl the same ball again, Sir.”
Which I did.
The “same ball” being pretty much my only ball. A moon ball, ludicrously slow, with an attempt at spin on it; probably a bit of top spin but nothing else in its favour other than being straight.
You see, I was very keen, so I used to practice bowling in the back drive against the garage door for ages. I didn’t get much better at bowling, but I was usually at least able to bowl the ball straight in those days.
Clean bowled.
In my memory (undoubtedly a falsy) the master was rolling on the floor laughing when I took the third wicket in three balls. I’m sure he really did laugh, anyway.
9 July 1975, a truly memorable date in (my personal) cricket history. The ill-fated 1975 Ashes series started the very next day; I don’t think this fact is even faintly relevant to my story, but I wanted to write it nonetheless. I can write what I like on Ogblog.
A lot of very good bowlers have played an awful lot of cricket without ever taking a hat-trick. I know that I’m not and wasn’t ever a good bowler. My hat-trick was at a very elementary level and only has significant meaning to me. But it is a memory I have carried with me all my days since and I shall continue to cherish that memory until I am gaga and/or dead.
I wonder who the hat-trick victim was? That much has slipped my mind completely. His too, almost certainly.
Michael Lempriere had arranged for our drama class to go and see Entertaining Mr Sloane by Joe Orton. It would have been the mid 1970s Royal Court revival production (probably the West End transfer thereof), with Beryl Reid as Kath, Malcolm McDowell as Sloane, James Ottaway as Kemp and Ronald Fraser as Eddie.
Anyway, when my mum got wind of it that we were going to see THAT play, she went into high horse mode, for reasons I cannot quite work out. I think she just felt that we were far too young for…whatever it was…not that she really knew anything about it, other than the fact that she probably mentioned it to a friend and that friend looked horrified at the thought. perhaps a sample of two priggish friends.
Mum was probably in a grumpy mood generally at that time – she was in and out of hospital for the first half of that year, culminating in a hip replacement in May. Anyway, she decided not merely to ground me from this one – I might have got away with just minor embarrassment for that. She got on to the school and got the outing cancelled. How un-hip was that?
Several of my drama pals were mightily unimpressed with this, as was I. We were all very disappointed as much as anything else. Michael Lempriere handled the matter with great dignity I’m sure, but that couldn’t prevent the ribbing. In particular, I recall Bob Kelly giving me a hard time; not least suggesting my mother’s physical as well as behavioural similarities with Mary Whitehouse. As my mother had chosen to go down the cruel spectacles line during the mid 1970s (illustrated with a 1977 picture below) this was a difficult charge to deny.
I’m not entirely sure when the theatre trip that never was should have happened. My diary is silent on the whole matter. I am guessing it was supposed to be an after exams jolly at the end of my second year, but it might just have been a start of the next academic year jolly for our drama group. If the latter, we didn’t miss out on Ottaway and McDowell, we missed out on Harry H. Corbett as Ed and Kenneth Cranham as Sloane.
Triumph on the cricket pitch meets disaster in the exam hall
By my mediocre standards as a sportsperson, my second year at Alleyn’s was an annus mirabilis. Actually, the success all seems to have come in a rush in the final term, so it was possibly no more than a terminus mirabilis.
Tony King: “Even yer Latin was pretty shite, Harris!”
No week better sums up the peaks and troughs of that particular period of my school life than the one depicted and described here.
I know, the words need transcribing. Here goes:
Sunday 29 June 1975 – Went to classes sports. Got certificate for second place in the 4 x 80 m relay – very enjoyable time.
Monday 30 June 1975 – the swimming gala. We came ↓ [bottom, presumably]. Getting some [exam] results, some not too good. TV Star Trek, Waltons, Horizon, Anaesthesia.
Tuesday 1 July 1975 – classes good TV
Wednesday, 2 July 1975 – We’ve [2AK] won the cricket league by beating to 2BM 86-80. TV The Ascent of Man
Thursday, 3 July 1975 – uneventful day. Preparation for concert. TV Jacques Cousteau, Comedy of Marriage.
Friday, 4 July 1975 – Day of concert. All went well. On to Grandma Anne. Don [Donald Knipe] kicked up a fuss. 24th in class.
Saturday, 5 July 1975 – had an exeat. Mum in peeve all day. TV Canon, That’s Life.
I cannot believe it. That certificate for coming second in the 4 x 80m relay failed to avoid my mother’s cull of my juvenilia and memorabilia. I do recall it had pride of place with my pile of near-irrelevant certificates for many years.
As for the swimming gala – the “we” in that comment was presumably 2AK. Our year had some cracking good swimmers in it, but, looking at my 2AK names list, we lacked most of not all of our year’s swimming and water polo heroes. Swimming was not one of my strong suits.
I had far less excuse for my dismal performance in class. Suffice it to say that my myriad extra curricula activities that year, combined with my mother’s diminished influence while in hospital/rehabilitating much of the time, had drawn my attention away from the business of learning stuff that gets results in school exams.
Two words: not good.
But who cares? 2AK won the league in the interclass cricket that year, no doubt strongly influenced by my voice-captaincy.
Parenthetically, I still have no recollection of any duties performed by the vice-captain in such circumstances, nor do I recall who our captain was. I’ll guess that the captain was Ian Feeley or Dave French. It’s hard to tell who was deemed to be captaincy material back then. I mean, we ALL went to the right sort of school, didn’t we?
Jumbo Jennings did not play cricket for us that season, I am 99% sure, because when he broke through in house cricket the following year, he surprised everybody…including himself probably, as I don’t think he much liked cricket.
I have copious, near-illegible notes about performance scribbled at the back of my diary. Perhaps THAT is what a vice-captain is supposed to do. The stats. I might scan those and add them as a appendix here for my completist readers and for cricket historians of the future.
I’m pretty sure that I had been elbowed out of the lower school orchestra by the end of the year, by dint of being so very, very awful at playing the violin. My mother never really got over that, coming from a family of virtuoso violinists and multi-instrumentalists…
…how come Andy Levinson, from a family of medics, was making so much better a fist of the violin than mum’s little darling? Jovito Athaide is also mentioned in that concert write up and I do remember him as being a musical talent. It was so sad to learn that his life was cut tragically short through heart failure.
I do vaguely remember the Tom Sawyer dramatization, which is also mentioned. I don’t suppose my deep south accent cut the mustard then, any more than it would now, so I’ll guess that my role in that concert was to be a gopher/fixer for the teachers.
Don Knipe “kicking up a fuss” at Grandma Anne’s place is part of a long and very peculiar story. Edwina Green, Don’s wife, was our family doctor. They were great friends of my grandma and indeed the whole “Streatham branch” of our family. The story is set out in the following linked piece, if you like reading weird:
Moving on, I wonder whether I made the connection, back then, between “24th in Class” reported on the Friday and “Mum in a peeve all day” reported on the following day. That connection is certainly clear to me now.
The word “peeve” makes me think of Andy Levinson’s vocabulary more than my own. Do you still use that word, Andy? I certainly don’t…or at least didn’t. I might start using it again, now that the diary has brought it back to the front of my mind.
Trigger warning. My best placing was usually before the starting gun.
Oh dear! I was not enjoying the exam season at school that year. And for good reason too. I was having a flunky year.
Perhaps the problem was simply that the markers were struggling with my handwriting. If only it had been possible to transcribe scribble into typed text back then.
But it is possible to do that now, so let’s try and set the record (unlike my handwriting) straight:
Sunday, 22 June 1975 classes boring. Dined at Felds. Afternoon in sun. So errands. David Aarons sitting – played backgammon and chess.
Monday 23 June 1975 started exams. TV Star Trek, Waltons.
Tuesday, 24 June 1975 – worst day for exams. Uneventful day.
Wednesday 25 June 1975 – took two exams. Still hard. Inter-form athletics. I came fourth in 400m out of four. Calculator from Auntie Rose [Rose Beech]. Very good one.
I love the unwitting joke that I came fourth in the inter-form event. On first skim I thought that sounded pretty good, until I more carefully read, “out of four”. Oh dear.
That Rockwell calculator was a REALLY good one
4 divided by (out of) 4 = 1. Does that mean I came first in the 400m?
Thursday 26 June 1975 – still examining. Today physics and music. TV Jacques Cousteau & Play with a twist.
Friday 27 June 1975 still doing exams – only 2 to go. TV Walt Disney, It’s a Knockout and 10 from 20.
Saturday 28 June 1975 – finished exams, relaxed afternoon. Watched Wimbledon. Film: Greatest Show On Earth, ITV Boobed.
I made three mentions of the very first cricket world cup (which was billed as the Prudential Cup) in my 1975 diary. I have already Ogblogged the very first match…
Even I have had to do some Photoshop forensics on that 21 June entry:
West Indies won first P Cup by 17 runs. Had a day off school for founders day. TV: Cannon, That’s Life. Still swotting.
I’m not sure why I got a Saturday off on Alleyn’s School Founders Day. Perhaps it was because my year was still swatting for exams so we were exempted. Perhaps I was exempted on religious grounds, as that Saturday was just a few weeks before my barmitzvah.
In any case, I can’t imagine when I did the swotting boasted in the diary entry. I don’t have any recollection of swotting that day. I only recall being glued to the telly, not least for most if not all of that cricket match.
I certainly recall seeing Roy Fredericks getting out hit wicket, which was very early in the match…and seeing that partnership between Clive Lloyd and Rohan Kanhai…and seeing the Aussies struggle against that West indies bowling attack…
I do also recall the match going on late…indeed past the time that dinner was normally served in the Harris household. There was a golden rule that meal times took precedence over ANYTHING on television.
I remember arguing my corner. This was the first ever cricket world cup final and there would never, ever be another “first ever” and it was building up to a really exciting ending.
I managed to get a temporary stay of execution for the family dinner, much against my mother’s better judgement.
Below is a highlights package of the match – I especially dig the floppy hats donned by Fredericks and Greenidge at the start of the innings:
Beyond the final, I know that first cricket world cup had a profound effect on me.
I saved newspaper clippings of the scorecards from the various matches and I remember replaying the world cup with my friends (and on my own) in various formats over the summer:
I especially remember looking at the names of players and trying to understand what the different types of names meant for those different places. The mixture of Portuguese and Southern Asian names from Sri Lanka especially sparked my interest.
I wondered whether I would visit some of those exotic-seeming (judging by the cricketers’ names) places. I have now visited most.
Writing this article on the eve of the 2019 Cricket World Cup Final, I am still wondering when England will win the tournament.
This was the summer in which I took a hat trick at cricket; at the culmination of a league-winning tournament in which my class, 2AK won all but one of the league matches:
But when you are as sporadic at sport as I am, no amount of enthusiasm nor occasional high achievement is going to protect you from the bad days.
18 June 1975 seems to have been such a day. And not just for me.
Just in case any readers are as sporadic at reading finely crafted handwriting as I am at sport, let me transcribe that 18 June diary entry for you.
We lost in cricket league. Boo hoo. Some hot revision. Had to catch 37 train home. Out of fives competition. TV Ascent of Man, Only On Sunday. England out of Prudential Cup.
That loss in the cricket league will have really hurt at the time. I have all of the scores neatly recorded in the back of my diary (I’ll write up the tournament at some point) so can confirm that we lost that game to 2BM by three runs (90 played 93). They were the other form team in the league – we had beaten them once before in our run of six wins at the start of the tournament. A seventh win on 18 June would have confirmed the tournament for us, but that loss kept our main rivals in the race – we were to face them once more a couple of weeks later.
It appears that I not only had to vice-skipper the cricket team that day but I also had to play my fives tournament semi-final. I dont record who my fives nemesis was that day, but I have a feeling, thanks to John Eltham’s extraordinary memory for our school’s sporting legends, that it was Neil Hodson.
The 18 June 1975 diary entry, I must say, is extraordinarily bleak, even in its brevity. “Some hot revision”, I sense, was my juvenile attempt to record that sense of being hot and bothered all day at Alleyn’s. Clearly even my preferred route home from school on that day of sporting disaster was confounded.
Then, to cap it all, “England out of the Prudential Cup”, that first cricket world cup that I had been following avidly since the very first day of the tournament.
England’s nemesis that day – a left arm swing bowler named Gary Gilmour. 1975 was to be his annus mirabilis too. But Gilmour’s sporting heights were mirabilis electi while mine were mirabilis ordinarius.
I wrote the words “boo hoo”, cynically I suspect, but I wonder whether or not the 12-year-old me really did cry at some point during that day or evening. I must admit that, writing this up now, aged 56, I welled up a little imagining my much younger self going through and then reflecting on that awful sporting day.
For The Completists Amongst You…
Here is my transcription of that diary page:
Sunday, 15 June 1975 – took second half of exam. All over! Dined up films. John player – Derby V Essex, film panicking streets.
Monday 16 June 1975 school under 13s. We won by seven wickets. TV Star Trek, likely lads, Waltons, weekend, Horizon.
17 June 1975 – bar mitzvah class. Then came home lots of revision. TV add the seventh crown hooray.
Wednesday, 18 June 1975 – we lost in cricket league boo-hoo some hot revision had to catch 37 train home. Out of five competition. TV ascent of man, only on a Sunday, England out of potential cup.
Thursday, 19 June 1975 didn’t go to classes. Still sweltering. TV Dad’s Army, Jacques Cousteau, All in the Family.
Friday, 20 June 1975 – uneventful day. Still sweating. TV It’s a Knockout v good, more swatting.
Saturday, 21 June 1975 – West Indies won Prudential Cup…Still swatting.
Sunday, 8 June 1975 – took first part of senior exam. Not too bad. Another sweltering day like the last two. Had a good time in garden. TV Doctor On The Go.
Monday, 9 June 1975 – uneventful day. Beat Eltham 11-5, 11-5 in quarter-finals. TV Star Trek, Likely Lads, Waltons, Rutland Weekend Television.
Tuesday, 10 June 1975– got to classes late because the bus. TV Edward VII.
Wednesday 11 June 1975 – we won cricket. I scored 7 and gave 5. TV Ascent of Man, Spike Milligan.
Thursday, 12 June 1975 – classes good – last one ever [i.e. last midweek Hebrew classes ever, not all types of class…obvs.] . TV Cousteau, All of the Family.
Friday 13 June 1975 – PE, cricket. TV Walt Disney, It’s a Knockout, 10 from 20s.
Saturday 14 June 1975 – scored under 13s, us 136 for one declared, [Wayne] Manhood 55 not out, [Perry] Harley 58, and them 96 all out – [Paddy/Sean] McGlone 4 wickets and a catch
My faint memory of scoring for the under 13s was pretty much solely of Wayne Manhood & Perry Harley batting. That 14 June 1975 report at least part explains why.
Without doubt my favourite game in the early days at Alleyn’s was fives. Specifically at Alleyn’s we played Rugby Fives.
It was the only sport at which I was good enough to represent the school and no doubt that selection only came through my comparative ability with the left-hand as well as the right. Let’s not call this ambidextrous, in my case more like ambiclumsy. In any case, my doubles partner was Alan Cooke and he was good. I probably got my team berth more on the back of Alan’s skills than my own.
Still, I wasn’t bad and there are lots of references to my successes and failures throughout my diaries, especially 1974 & the first half of 1975.
But looking back today, early February 2016, I thought I should write a short piece about this simple entry I found for 9 June 1975.
Uneventful day. Beat Eltham 11-5, 11-5 in Q-Finals.
Now in my book, John Eltham was good at sport. Really good at sport. I’m not sure John played fives much, but he was generally good at sport.
I was not good at sport. Really, really, really not good at sport. There was the occasional success, of course, not least one goalkeeping tale of derring-do that I have promised not to blog about…
…for the time being…
…until I can find the reference and/or unless the promised hush money proves not to be forthcoming…
…but my point is, looking back, I don’t see how the two sentences in the above quote could possibly be talking about the same day. Beating John Eltham at any sport made it an eventful day. Heck, just having got to the Q-Finals of any sport made it an eventful day for me.
But perhaps my young mind, turned by some fleeting success, was by then looking beyond a semi-final appearance to greater glory than that achieved.
The diary is silent on fives for the rest of the term apart from a fleeting mention of my semi-final loss a week-or-so later, with no mention of the score or the opponent – click here or below – clearly I couldn’t even bear to write down that particular losing result.
Anyone care/dare to own up to ruining this poor kid’s day by destroying his one chance at glory in the internal fives competition? I fancy a rematch.
Postscript One
John Eltham, on seeing this posting, e-mailed me the next day to say:
You modestly left out the fact that we had at least two national Rugby Fives champions in our year ! Hodson & Stendall.
Indeed we did, John. And indeed Jumbo Jennings latterly. I’d forgotten about Neil Hodson in that context.
I have a strange feeling that it might well have been Hodson who beat me in the semis – I have always had a sense of unfinished business with him and I probably would have been too gutted to report the loss. Whereas Chris Stendall was, like Alan Cooke, an old mate from primary school; I took my (more often than not) losses against them on the chin and regularly recorded those in the diary.
Postscript Two
After writing the above line “I fancy a rematch” and posting this piece, I then knelt down to put the 1975 diary back in the box under the bed and then…felt my left hammy twinge when I got up again. Perhaps a fives rematch at the age of 53 is not such a good idea after all.
Postscript Three
For reasons of his own, Rohan Candappa presented me with a trophy commemorating this historic fives victory, in December 2018, described here:
1975 was my sporting annus mirabilis – or perhaps I should say that Alleyn’s Trinity Term 1975 was my sporting tempus mirabilis – for several reasons. For example, I have previously (out of sequence) reported my fives quarter final success.
My most mirabilis hard ball (cricket ball, I hasten to point out) moment was also in June 1975, but I’ll keep readers in suspenders for that one at this stage.
Still, almost as astonishing was my selection for the cricket first eleven, on 3 May 1975, while I was still only 12. It’s there in the diary:
What do you mean, you can’t make out what that page says?
Sunday, 27 April 1975 – classes good. Salt beef excellent. Kalooki from 15p down to 11p up. Nice day and all.
Monday 28 April 1975– fives good. TV The Likely Lads, The Waltons, The Goodies.
Tuesday 29 April 1975 – uneventful day. TV The Rockford files, Edward the Seventh.
Wednesday, 30 April 1975 – cricket 2AK won – Me 6–0 runs 1-9 bowling, one catch. [Family dentist Harry] Wachtel came. TV St Trinians, Survivors, Woodhouse Playhouse.
Thursday, 1 May 1975 – Mom’s birthday. Classes good. TV Are You Being Served?
Friday 2 May 1975 – went into Barnett’s [Cyril and Marion]. Went to Camden. TV The Main Chance.
Saturday, 3 May 1975 – scored for first 11. Us 150 for 7 declared them 130 for 6.
OK, so I didn’t PLAY for the first XI at the age of 12, I scored for them. Give me a break, readers, I was only 12. Still, this was I’m sure an unusual promotion for one so young. Colin Page looked after the first XI and must have spotted (or been tipped off to) one of my many superpowers while I was still very young.
I simply will not accept the argument that Colin Page must have been desperate in his search for a scorer for that match. Nor that his desperation might well have had something to do with the fact that the FA Cup Final was that day and a London derby to boot. That is an outrageous slur on my burgeoning talent, aged 12.
Colin Page utilised my enthusiasm for cricket a great deal over the years, as the diary will attest. Scoring, umpiring…pretty much anything other than taking to the field of play. Still, he repaid my enthusiasm in spades at the end of my Alleyn’s journey, by giving me a glowing reference for Keele University in 1980:
But that bit of the past was way in the future in 1975. Let’s press on with the next week:
Sunday 4 May 1975 – classes good. Played in afternoon. Nice day. TV War Film.
Monday, 5 May 1975 – fives good. TV The Likely Lads, The Waltons, The Goodies.
Tuesday, 6 May 1975 – classes good. 18 out of 20 maths, 19 out of 20 Latin. TV Edward The Seventh.
Wednesday, 7 May 1975 – cricket was off. Finished Treasure Island. TV cartoon film, Survivors, Woodhouse Playhouse.
Thursday, 8 May 1975 – went to Grandma Jenny. Classes good. TV Love Thy Neighbour, Are You Being Served? Goodies Special.
Friday, 9 May 1975 – event swimming. Little men [goodness only knows what this means?]. TV The Best Of Dick Emery, The Good Life.
Saturday, 10 May 1975 – school in morning. Uneventful. Afternoon TV Eastern?, Sale of the Century, Mike Yarwood, Cannon.
Sunday, 11 May 1975 – dined at “Dragon” [Golden?] – v good. Flew planes. Stick stretch [was that a type of model plane?] excellent. TV Waterloo Road, Waltons film.
Monday 12 May 1975 – fives v good. Mom went into hospital. Dined at Peach Blossom. TV RWT [Rutland Weekend Television].
Tuesday, 13 May 1975 – went to classes. Had a nice dinner. TV Edward The Seventh.
Wednesday, 14 May 1975 – won cricket 54 to 38. Went to Barnett’s for dinner. Went to Camden Town. Beat Uncle Cyril at chess. TV Wodehouse Playhouse.
Thursday, 15 May 1975 – went to see mom. All right after operation. Dined at Peach Blossom. TV All in the Family (no good).
Friday, 16 May 1975 – had chicken etc. Went to see mum. Went to Grandma Anne’s. Don [Knipe] in bloody swear mood.
Saturday 17 May 1975 – went to school in morning. Andrew [Andy Levinson] for the rest of the day. Won snooker competition.
I owe an apology to readers who are wondering why I am again reporting my mother’s hip replacement surgery having previously reported it in/as February 1975:
I now realise/remember that mum’s surgery in February was a preparatory operation for her scheduled hip replacement, as she had, some years earlier, had a plate inserted in an ultimately unsuccessful attempt at using femoral osteotomy to provide a long-term solution to her hip problem.
The main, hip replacement surgery was in May 1975 and what a marathon that was compared with today. Mum was in hospital for more than two weeks having her Stanmore inserted…
…whereas my own experience of a total hip replacement, fifty years later (sixteen weeks ago as I write) was to spend only two days in hospital and then acquainting myself with Pinky, my brand-new hip, at home.
The upshot for me and dad in May 1975 was a chance to try out several different Chinese restaurants and multiple invitations from friends and neighbours. What a kindly community we had back then.
My visits to Cyril and Marion Barnett next door had started before the hip business. They were in the schmutter (clothing) business and had a storeroom/showroom thing in Chalk Farm/Camden. It became one of their/our habits for them to feed me, take me for a ride in the back of their van to Camden, where I would help them move clobber around or whatever, then they would buy me (and themselves) ice cream at Marine Ices and then home. I loved Marine Ices Marsala wine flavoured ice cream best and can never taste Marsala or see a bottle of the stuff without thinking of those days.
You can keep your madeleines – my Proust phenomenon comes from Marsala wine.
I also mention, on the Friday, “Don [Knipe] in bloody swear mood”. I have told the tale of Don Knipe (our doctor, Edwina Green’s husband) in a previous article, which, as it happens, also involved the idea of involuntary memory.
Another bit of the past that was still way in the future in 1975. Let’s move swiftly on.
“Won snooker competition”, which I mention on the Saturday, was most likely a tournament comprising three or four of us: Andrew (Andy) Levinson for sure, me also for sure (as I won it, remember) and most likely Stuart Harris [no relation], with possibly other competitors such as Fiona Levinson and Gail Harris (Stuart’s sister). My annus/tempus mirabilis simply knew no bounds at that time.
Monday 19 May 19 75– Fives good. Beat Edwards 15-10 and Johnson 15-12. Saw mum.
Tuesday, 20 May 1975 – classes good. Had Langers again. TV Hughes[?] Rockford, Edward Seventh.
Wednesday 21 May 1975 – did all prep in chapel service. Cricket again got two catches. We won 52-46. Visited mum. OK.
Thursday, 22 May 1975 – field day very good. Scored 3 C[ricket matches?]. [Wayne] Manhood in best match. Grandma Jenny’s for tea. Classes Ok.
Friday, 23 May 1975 – went to Grandma Jenny for lunch and afternoon. Went to [dad’s] shop then visited mummy.
Saturday 24 May 1975 – Andy’s barmitzvah went well. Stayed with Benji’s [Stanley, Doreen, Jane & Lisa] for day. Saw mum in morning and evening.
Andy Levinson at my bar mitzvah some weeks later
Sunday 25 May 1975 – no classes. Dad at home of course.
Monday 26 May 1975 – dad home. Visited mummy. Mum’s walked. Went to see Earthquake (shake)
Tuesday 27th of May 1975 – went to Grandma Anne’s for lunch. Played with Andy. Classes good.
Wednesday, 28 May 1975 – we won cricket verses 2BM. I caught Andrew out. Saw mummy.
Thursday, 29 May 1975 – went to Grandma Jenny for tea. Classes good. TV Dad’s Army, Jacques Cousteau, All In The Family.
Friday, 30 May 1975 – went to visit mum. Getting better every minute – should be out soon. Went to Grandma Anne’s.
Saturday 31 May 1975 – scored for under 13s v Whitgift. Tied match. 83 all out each. Went to Richmond Rendezvous with Uncle Cyril [Barnett].
Earthquake – oh deary me. Those disaster movies were all the rage back then. Earthquake was in Sensurround, which made you feel as though you were experiencing the quakes in the cinema. Lovely.
I seem to recall that Grandma Anne was nevertheless able to sleep through the experience.
And talking of quakes, I wonder how my good friend Andy Levinson feels now about me reporting that he was caught out by me on the cricket pitch so soon after his bar mitzvah?
