EXTRACT FROM DAVES AUTOBIOGRAPHY

remembering Aberfan 1966



1966. Aged 14

Aberfan, a name which still chills the soul of those who were around at this unhappy time, as a youngster you could only too easily identify with the children who perished in the tragedy which saw a huge slag heap of coal waste sweep away a junior school in South Wales. I suppose up to now it was a part of the country we knew little of a, certainly the collieries in the valleys were alien to those of is accustomed to the clean ozone laden air by the seaside in Sussex. The Queen visited the disaster, she talked of her distress, for the first time both catastrophe and our monarch were perhaps real and not just images. With the swinging Britain also saw ordinary working people once more flex their collective muscle, the presence of a labour government at a time of industrial strife wasn’t as anachronistic as we look back in hindsight after experiencing Tony Blair .Emergency powers were enacted as the ports ground to a halt with the seaman’s strike which was resolved by mid year. One of Harold Wilson’s favourite and inspired ideas was to make further education more widely available and nearly twenty universities had opened in the past five years, even more revolutionary was the Open University.

Till Death Us Do Part appeared on television, the foul mouthed bigot Alf Garnett a hero to as many that loathed him and his poor wife Elsie long suffering and perhaps the most real character. Daktari was part of a long running genre of films based on wildlife this time dramatised; Africa was still crawling with big game. Softly Softly was the latest in another long line this time of police dramas following on with a CID bias from Z Cars. Oz mag arrived in the UK; it pushed the boundaries beyond satire and political comment into the family, sex, drugs and relationships. Already interested in aircraft I regularly read Flight magazine and my friends Dave Diplock and Peter Needham were enrolled in the Royal Observer Corps. They’d seen a stand for the ROC at Prince’s Park in carnival week. We had regular trips to air shows, the largest was at Biggin Hill and the regular trade based show at Farnborough. The trips were quite a jaunt in Big Dave’s cars, ranging from Ford perpendicular Pops to a 100E Prefect. Hairy moments came a plenty, brake failure could come at any time such as heading across the A23 on our way home and the windscreen wipers slowed to a grind at speed, sometime you had to hang out and try to clear your vision with a rag. When Dave had an Austin Ruby we changed the engine in the back lane behind his house on Seaside, the ‘new’ engine came from a Reliant Robin three wheeler, it fitted perfectly. Still to become a true classic Dave gave it to a bloke who collected these old bangers.

As well as aircraft I was very much into war gaming and sported an extensive collection of modern and historic models of soldiers and weaponry backed up by books and magazines. At some stage I created my own society which later got hijacked and a chap called Brian Hylands ‘deemed’ me out of it. There were some nice people involved , in particular I recall a couple of chaps from near Hastings, I used to cycle over to one who had a tremendous collection, up at Tunbridge Wells one of the main authors in war gaming had a huge hall given over to it. I must have kept it all up for a few years, certainly after I had left school, Marion must have been pleased when it petered out as my room was dominated by a vast layout with landscapes carved out of polystyrene tiles and foliated by trees from lichen. From the ceiling hung my model aircraft by the score, the entirety a dust trap .Shelves were added almost monthly and soon surrounded the bed, I had an old bookcase from the living room with a glass front, a small portable gas fire provided warmth.

A defining year for popular music as the decade stood still for a few minutes just like the new Harrier Jump Jet at Farnborough Air Show. The onslaught of hit groups took a rest and a more relaxed style seemed to prevail for a while as the first wave of pop groups sought new directions in which to lead their fans. The Overlanders sang gentle Michelle from the Beatles ‘Rubber Soul’ Album, Nancy Sinatra growled These Boots Are Made For Walking and for the Walker Brothers ‘The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine Anymore ‘, it didn’t for them as they split up soon afterwards. Dusty Springfield reached the height of her career and not to be outdone Nancy’s dad Frank brought us another gentle ballad with Strangers In The Night proving that he had plenty of mileage and last tours yet to perform. The Kinks whiles away their time with Sunny Afternoon and the Beatles hinted at their new directions with Paperback Writer, the fans didn’t know where they were going but followed anyway.

The Stones had already sealed their fate but perhaps were also learning to deal with the problems of stardom and fame as they faced problems with their social lives bringing drug abuse to the attention of the public in a big way for the first time. For the minute I’ll dive forward to the end of the year as Tom Jones wailed of The Green Green Grass Of Home, this lasted at the top through December and well into January, an all timer classic from someone who always seems to have been there. Bigger already in what we would now call the disco was The Four Tops with the Motown sound with Reach Out I’ll Be There.

Already enormous in the states were the Beach Boys, they got their first hit in the UK with Good Vibrations. Posthumous success for Jim Reeves with Distant Drums, the American country music star again fabulously popular loyal following in the middle of the road scene. Missing from my recollections the observant music fans will note the perhaps most important change in the direction of popular music mid sixties and certainly leading us all into the psychedelic time which is what people now call the ‘Sixties’. This was of course The Beatles with Yellow Submarine and Eleanor Rigby. This was the 11th release in a row to reach NO1 in the record charts a feat never again rivalled.

Witnessing England’s win in the soccer world cup even if just on television seems to be an increasingly attractive accolade given our inability to repeat the historic victory. It wasn’t football that marks the year out in my mind but the Beatles Yellow Submarine. I’d already got a weekend job at Kings Caravan Park down on the Crumbles. Run by a sort of wannabe Butlins entrepreneur it had caravans and chalets, shop and club and later even a nightclub over the road. I worked in the shop at weekends and then full time in the summer holidays. There was a jukebox and during the hot summer days the kids would play Yellow Submarine constantly until it drove you mad. A nice enough couple ran the establishment and I enjoyed my first taste of work.