The end of July 1968. The year after the first "Summer of Love".
For me, it was my first proper summer of love - as I was proudly and happily going out with Rhonda B. A lovely person, to whom I became engaged, a year or so later, and then eventually blew it by going into a deep depression, for various reasons not pertinent to this chapter, and letting her slip away.
In fact I left, initially, to an even less certain future with Smith Brothers and Webb as an “improver”. This involved checking, with a small range of jigs and gauges, hand brake units for commercial vehicles; mainly Ford or Bedford Trucks. The reality involved a lot of sciving. After a couple of months I filled in for the Paint Sprayer’s holidays. However he never returned so I was given the job. No training just a quick pep talk from Ted Crampton, the Foreman, on how to mix the paint, clean the gun and connect to the generator. No Health & Safety then! I'll come back to this later.
Dad had passed away in February of that year and his death was still an open wound. I had buried my grief and compensated for it by some surly and aggressive behaviour. I had given up on school work at the start of February; when there were just a matter of days remaining for Dad. I had been angry at everything and everyone. Whatever I was expected to do - I tried the opposite. I was anti school, home, religion, family and pretty much anything mainstream or established. My only real compensations were a couple of friends and Rhonda. It must have been an additional weight on Mom’s shoulders. I’m sure she didn’t need my anti-social attitude. I didn’t care though. I couldn’t as I was so deeply hurting but didn't know what it all meant. We'd even done a Ouija Board exercise - but I couldn't own up that I'd really have liked to speak to my Dad to apologise.
What I had done in school in those last months revolved around sport: Rugby until Easter and then, my favourite, Cricket. I had to take two GCE’s English and Maths in order to get a place at the Birmingham College of Food and Domestic Arts.
The previous year I had a pretty disastrous showing in my GCEs gaining only three. This had brought disapproval from both school and family. However I had scraped enough to get into the Sixth Form.
Well; during those last couple of weeks of July 1968 I was also learning to drive and cramming for my driving test. We didn’t have a car at home as on Dad’s death the company car had been taken back into the Smith Bros and Webb car pool.
I was fortunate that Mr O.D. Smith, the chairman, funded my driving lessons with the British School of Motoring (BSM) However he was not known for the generous depth of his pockets so he arranged for me to be taken out by some of the staff during our lunch break. That was a great help, although I failed first time. But that was probably a few weeks later in August 1968.
I drove a variety of cars; Austin A40, Austin A30 and Triumph Herald. I never got drive Dad’s old car: a deep maroon Austin Cambridge.
I don’t recall what happened to my school uniform. It probably went in the bin. It wasn’t useful to my brothers, Peter and Richard, and my sister Jayne was only about six. I don’t think I even kept the tie as a souvenir. I was in that anti-mood! Jeans and baseball boots were de-rigour. I hadn’t reached the fashion heights of the full-length gabardine RAF mac by that time; after all it was Summer!
Music was always important to us. I was strumming away on the guitar - a Watkins Stratocaster type with a small Watkins amp. I played with my friend David Winters and we spent more time tinkering with tape recorders and our old gramophone attempting multi-tracking than actually playing. Cream and Hendrix were our favourites and I’ve always liked the Blues so the droning rants were in tune with my blue moods. The Beatles were still a life force and I think we were heading towards the White Album phase (possibly my least favourite album). There was soul and Tamla and there was some pretty good pop stuff. I really did, and still do, like the Lovin Spoonful and John Mayall (neither pop actually).
I wasn’t at home much of the time during this period. Home life seems a big blur. I would visit Rhonda at her home in Acocks Green.
It took two busses and a short walk. In fact there were alternative routes at that time. Don’t forget we are pre-decimal currency. I can’t recall the costs - but most of the busses had a driver and a conductor - very “On the Busses”. The last bus home invariably held the prospect of an uncertain wait on the bridge at Sarehole Park - just next to the Sarehole Mill. Unbeknownst to us this historical building complex had been the inspiration for Tolkein’s Shire in the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings. I think it was in the process of being restored at that time.
We used to love a drop of M&B mild or Ansell's Bitter when we could get it. Or even a small bottle of Sam Brown Ale or Guiness.
I still like a snifter - although nowadays I can't hold my drink - certainly not pints of ale. My brain seems to cope but my bladder has stretched beyond how God made it!
Oh those days were innocent and my naivety must have been very obvious to all; behind my mask of bravado. I was pretty broken-hearted and guilty but we didn't really have the opportunity to get things sorted - men still had that stiff upper lip!
"It was fifty years ago . . . . " Oh no wrong song wrong year! And a year later on and we'd landed on the Moon (well not me!) But that's a tale for the future.
I've just recalled that it was also the last few weeks of steam operating on British Rail. We'd lost steam in Tyseley in the previous year, or so. We'd had a bit of an extension as Tyseley shed had been transferred to the London Midland region a couple of years earlier - Western region steam ended in 1965, I believe. They were talking about demolishing the shed - the passenger roundhouse went at the end of 1968.
I hope this tickled some memories for you too.
I've just recalled that it was also the last few weeks of steam operating on British Rail. We'd lost steam in Tyseley in the previous year, or so. We'd had a bit of an extension as Tyseley shed had been transferred to the London Midland region a couple of years earlier - Western region steam ended in 1965, I believe. They were talking about demolishing the shed - the passenger roundhouse went at the end of 1968.
I hope this tickled some memories for you too.
