I am Furious with aol!!!

Aol have now plummeted the depths and I am furious with their latest tactic which in fact is their very own form of spam.

I'm sure that many others have by now recived an email inviting them to join the site of a friend.  When you click on the link and accept the invitation - putting in your own details, it automatically generates an email invitation to everyone on your address list to join 'your' site.

The crafty thing is, that it's not until you have clicked the ok button, that further down the page - it reveals everyone on your address list,  only then do you have the opportunity of taking off anyone on that list that you do not want to send the email to, but there is no indication before hand, that any emails are going to be sent out, and by then, it's too late.  So apologies to anyone who has received such an email from me - please ignore it - and any others that you receive or at least be warned of what is going to happen.

I am in an acutely embarassing position because this invite will have been sent to business addresses on my list.

I do hope someone at aol is reading this and takes note, and stops this nasty way of gathering email addresses.

a very angry and very red faced Freda!

Switzerland - Life at the Importner Hotel

It seems that my need for a job coincides most effectively with the needs of the Importner for more staff. Up until a few months ago this hotel had been run and owned by the Eggli family - Herr & Frau Eggli and son Hans-Uli who is in his late twenties. But then Frau Eggli died and Herr Eggli decided to ‘retire’. The hotel was sold to the Ekkhard Hotel, but the Egglis retained management. The hotel is now run by Hans-Uli. I will be working on the floors with Maria, an Italian who speaks neither English nor German lol! It seems Frau Geiger used to work with Maria until the death of Frau Eggli, but voluntarily took on the manageress position lol! So I have now stepped into the position once occupied by her.

There are a great many Italians in Switzerland, consequently, they find that they can get along quite well living in their own little enclave, many Swiss speak some Italian, in fact many Italian words seem to be in daily use, pretty much as we have absorbed French words without even realising it. So Maria, her family and friends get along very well by only having to use the occasional German word. There are several Italians working here, so I soon discover that it would be quite beneficial for me to learn Italian......... I am not averse to this, as I love the lilting accent, much more fun than German. So Maria and I get along very well, I learn lots of words and complete sentences that we use on a daily basis. Maria cannot read, so she brings in Italian newspapers and magazines for me to read to her. In a quiet moment, we will sit on the stairs and I read to her in my best OTT Italian accent lol. Maria corrects my pronunciation as we go along and we have a good giggle. As my pronunciation improves, Maria claps at the end of my reading and shouts verry gooood!! She is now very proud to be able to say gooood morrrning, and I can say buon giorno in my best Italian accent. Maria is rather overweight and has trouble with her legs, so she is pleased to have someone who can run up and down stairs fetching and carrying. The linen cupboard is situated on the 2nd floor, and there are 4 floors, so with Maria on the top floor and me on the second we lean over the bannister and I will call up " Hey Marrreeya, quanti tovaglioli per camera due" (How many towels for room 2) I was apparently very convincing as an Australian women stopped me in the corridor and began jabbering away in Italian, Maria joined us and I looked to her for help, on hearing me speak English, she apologised and said she thought I was Italian lol! They say to have a little knowledge is dangerous, and so it was to prove - time and time again......People simply do not expect to find an English girl working in a Swiss Hotel doing this type of work and imagine me to be any other nationality - mainly I get mistaken for Dutch, partly because of my fair complexion and partly because my German is so ropey lol!

I have a very small room in the attic of the Importner, there’s just enough room for a single bed, a chest of drawers and a sink - not too many parties in here then ;-)

Maria has a family so does not live in the hotel, although she has the use of a room on my floor, as mostly she only works in the morning. I am the first one up at 6.30. I get the huge espresso machine going and have a nice cup of coffee and a cinnamon bun. We don’t have breakfast until 8.0am when the bread delivery arrives - still hot from the oven. It is the best meal of the day in my opinion, as in general I do not like the food here. I love the creamy, saltless butter spread on the hot bread - crunchy on the outside and soft on the inside. The jam and marmalade are quite runny, not a patch on English jams, but I’m content with just bread and butter. Maria, Frau Geiger and myself will devour a whole loaf between us, washed down with lots of hot, fresh coffee. Around about 1.0pm the word ‘mangiare’ (to eat) will echo around the hotel and everyone makes for the café where the staff eat their meals. A favourite meal amongst the others is one I truly despise - great thick pieces of ‘spec’ (belly pork) lay on a bed of over-cooked stringy, green beans. The belly pork is extremely fatty, there are just very thin layers of pork in between the fat. I loathe fat anyway, and always cut it away from my meat, but this is just impossible and I make do with just a desert.

Despite my running up and down stairs all day, I still manage to put on a stone and a half during my time in Switzerland :-((  Because I do not like the food at the Importner, I have got into the habit of going along to Migros (supermarket) where they have a counter devoted to the most incredible assortment of tortes and gateaux. I blame Maria, if she hadn’t sent me along there in the first place I may not have got into this appalling habit, we buy a large assortment and indulge ourselves during our ‘repose’.

Rosemary is very happy that I am now settled in at the Importner, she told me that various people have asked her about the English girl, wanting to know what I am doing here. There is a private boarding school on the outskirts of St Gallen, and the pupils, who are in their late teens, are often to be seen sitting around in the various cafés. They are not Rosemary’s favourite type of customer as they try to get out of tipping her, which makes her very cross. They all come from well to do families, but apparently do not get much pocket money lol! One of them, Roman, who is from Germany, has asked Rosemary to introduce me to him. He’s a nice polite young man who’s command of English is quite good, but he wants to perfect it. We get on very well, and he asks to take me to the cinema. I am aware that he is only 19 and I have just celebrated my 23rd Birthday, but it doesn’t matter because I have no designs on him, lol! My heart still belongs to Eugen. I have Wednesdays off, and if it is convenient, I go up to Walzenhausen, or we will visit the little hamlets on the mountainside. We found a café in a quite remote spot, very high up, which gave us a lovely panoramic view, but what I remember particularly was the tiny jukebox that had just four choices on it - Elvis Presley, Eddie Cochrane, a local song and Gene Pitney!! I had an opportunity to relay this to him, as I got a call from Dottie, the telephonist at Stratters, telling me that Gene was back and he had been asking after me, so she found the number of the Importner and gave it to him. It was a lovely surprise hearing from him - made me feel quite home-sick, he was delighted to hear that he had fans in the mountain tops of Switzerland lol!

Switzerland - Moving On

Things do not improve between Mrs. B and myself and I’m thinking of moving on. Friedel rang to tell me that Eugen is arriving tomorrow and would I like to go round to see her this evening. Friedel and I get on so well together that I am saddened to hear that her husband has a new job and they will be moving to Schaffhausen very soon :-((

We talk mostly about Eugen. It’s obvious that the whole family would like to believe that there is a strong relationship between me and Eugen and that he might consider settling down in Switzerland again..........I would like it too, I am as surprised as anyone that Eugen is doing precisely what he always said he would not do - go back home to work.

I get two half days a week off and I usually go into the old town of St Gallen and wander the narrow streets. There are some wonderful café’s and bakeries cum coffee shops. I have very little money so I cannot afford to indulge my love of cream cakes. I go to my favourite café and sit at one of the small tables outside in the sunshine. I can just about afford a cup of coffee. Rosemary brought my coffee and sat down opposite, she wanted to talk to me in English and asked me to correct her. She asked how I was getting on in my job - "Not very well", I told her. She nodded, knowingly, " It must be very difficult for an English girl to get used to the Swiss way of doing things". It was true - the Swiss make cleaning a way of life - it was difficult adapting. I told her that Mrs. B. and myself did not get on very well, she was always berating the English, saying what a dirty, lazy lot they were. "Yes", Rosemary agreed disarmingly, "How do you find time to drink so much tea?"  I laughed at that. "So that’s what you think of us, that we just sit around drinking tea all day! We stop at a certain time during the day to take a break and drink tea or coffee, that’s all". It became clear during my time in Switzerland that this was the general view of the English. I did my best to speak up for us, but I could see that a nation totally obsessed with cleaning, would find anything less than their high standards, simply not acceptable. Yep - we were a filthy, lazy lot lol!

Maybe things have changed since the early Sixties, but at that time, there was a very distinct division between the classes in Switzerland - those who worked on farms and those who worked in the town. Also Switzerland looked after its own first and foremost - the Swiss got the best jobs, ‘foreigners’, whether they could speak the language or not, had to do the more menial jobs. Rosemary was Austrian, she lived just over the border in the small village of Dornbirn, she had moved over the border to Switzerland in the hope of a higher standard of living. She wanted to work in an office, but had to work in Switzerland doing more menial work for at least 5 years before she would even be considered, and even then, a Swiss person would be given priority. Still, she was content, Rosemary practically ran the Neugasse as the owner was disabled and in return for a room at the café’, Rosemary looked after her. In the cafes, restaurants etc. the staff do not get paid by their employers unless they are behind the scenes, washing up, preparing food etc. They rely on tips for their earnings, but the accepted practice is to give the waitress extra according to how much you are spending. If you want a cake or a savoury tit-bit, they will bring a large tray from which you make your selection, for one piece you will pay for it then give her perhaps 1 rap (1p) extra, for two pieces maybe 11/2 or 2 raps. The savoury tit-bits, rather like canapes are small but delicious - and it’s difficult to buy just one, so you must bear in mind how much it is all going to cost before you get too greedy lol!

To work in a shop was a reasonably prestigious job - but then all the shops were quite ‘posh’. It never failed to amuse me that no matter how small the purchase, the assistant would spend an inordinate amount of time wrapping it up as if it were a gift! I loved the jewellery shops, the windows were so beautifully arranged and I loved the modern styling of the rings in particular, although I knew I could never afford to buy one. Same with the clothes, they were just so elegant - and expensive!

Rosemary was saddened to learn that I was unhappy working for Mrs. B and said she would enquire around for any work that I would be able to do. Things worsened daily between Mrs B. and myself - there were some quite spectacular rows, where she would tell me to get out. I had suspected that she was reading my mail and listening into my telephone conversations on the upstairs extension. I was writing to many people back home, all the people I’d worked with, my new friend Kathy, Jenny, as well as my family. I had also struck up a bit of a correspondence with Tony Hall. I had spoken to him many times when I worked at Stratters, but we had never got around tomeeting, so it wasnice to hear his familiar voice over the airwaves - he presented a late night show on Radio Luxenbourg. So I decided to write to him and ask him to play me a request. He wrote back saying how nice it was to hear from me and hoped I was enjoying myself in Switzerland and that he would dedicate a record to me at the end of one of his shows and giving me the precise date. I listened hopefully, but it never came :-((

I soon got another letter from him apologising and saying the producer had cut the end bit off the show because of over-running, but he would play something for me at the beginning of his show instead - which he duly did. A few letters passed between us during my time in Switzerland and on one occasion he said he had been approached by Kathy in a Pub who said she was a friend of mine and had heard the dedication to me. Then he said that as he was walking along the street, another friend of mine, Jenny, had spotted him and introduced herself to him and said the same thing lol! He mused that everywhere he went now, he was expecting one of my friends to pop up and say hello to him! But I think he quite enjoyed the attention ;-)

Eugen has finally arrived and has invited me to go over to his home on Sunday. He lives in Walzenhausen which is a tiny hamlet halfway up a small mountain. It is a very short journey by car, and not too long even by train.  From the main railway station, it is just one stop to Rheineck where I catch the Bergbahn up to Walzenhausen, which takes about 10 minutes.  The journey in the Bergbahn is quite scary the first time round as one seems to be travelling almost vertically and the journey back down is even scarier lol. But I shall get used to it as I will do this journey as often as I can! Eugen’s mother met me, she doesn’t speak a word of English, but she is such a lovely, cheerful person that somehow it doesn’t seem to matter. Eugen’s parents have a café and metzgerei (butchers), his father does not speak any English either, he gave me a very brief greeting and disappeared, I don’t think I ever saw him again! His mother has cooked me two small medallions of steak - absolutely melt in the mouth fillets, and then a huge piece of chocolate gateaux and tons of whipped cream - Eugen decided he was going to join me in the dessert.......

We went a walk round Walzenhausen to work off the calories, but he bought me a box of kubelies (cannon balls) which are round chocolates filled with a lovely light fudgey-type mousse. I really loved the Swiss food in the cafés - Bratwurst, swebeln and rosti ( large, fat sausages, fried onions and potato cakes) would have been my choice if I could have afforded it, followed by rahmquark - the creamiest cheesecake imaginable. It was Eugen’s favourite too, and I would take him two pieces whenever I visited him.

Rosemary has said that if the worst comes to the worst - I can stay with a friend of hers, Annie, who runs a house for visiting Catholic girls. Rosemary took me round to meet Annie and some of the girls who are staying there, and we had a really nice evening. It is just as well this meeting took place because the next day Mrs. B and I had an almighty row and she told me to pack my bags and leave!

I was able to move into Annie's but I did not want to let Mrs. B know where I was staying, so it means I will have to visit Mrs. B again to collect my mail........

I have been in contact with Nancy who is working in Lucerne, so we decided to meet up and try my luck at finding work in a hotel there. It was a really beautiful journey there, the weather is very hot.  Nancy and I tramped around the various hotels, but they are so busy with visitors that it is difficult to get to see anyone.  I got the suprise of my life when I walked into one hotel and found Norbert ( who used to work for Grand Met) working on the reception!  Eventually, we decided to give up, I was beginning to feel and look the worse for wear - not the best way of presenting oneself for a job.  So we just enjoyed the rest of our day together, and then I went back to Annie's.

Rosemary and I did the rounds of the local hotels - in the New Town by the railway station is a large modern hotel - Ekkhards,  we decided to try our luck there.  The manager told us that a small family hotel in the Old Town, which they also own, require help.  The Importner is situated down a small street, Bankgasse, behind the Neugasse cafe, Rosemary does all the talking, but it is clear that the manageress is suprised to find an English girl looking for this type of work, but also pleased, as she is another one who knows a little English and would like to learn more, so I am welcomed aboard!

Switzerland

Switzerland

Having left London in pouring rain - I arrived in Zurich to gloriously hot sunshine! I can remember clearly seeing two women coming towards me - one tall and smiling, the other short and - er, not smiling. I sent up a little prayer that the tall woman was going to be my new employer - alas, I must have been a bad girl at some time in my life because my prayer was not answered :-(( Ah well, it was a lovely drive through the most beautiful scenery towards St Gallen, in the German speaking part of Switzerland. The smiling lady tried to converse with me with the small amount of English she knew, and I was far too nervous to attempt to use any of the German I had tried to learn. I had a gut feeling that things were going to be a tad difficult...........

I don’t know what Mrs. B expected of the English girl she’d hired, but I kind of got the feeling that I wasn’t it lol! Maybe she expected someone more ‘homely’, I was tall and slim with long blonde hair (hanging in rats tails, thanks to the rain!). I didn’t wear much make-up - I hated the feel of lipstick on my lips and found that make-up base and powder just somehow looked wrong on me, so I never bothered with it, I did like my eyeliner and mascara tho............. Maybe Mrs. B expected to see a fresh faced, quiet, mousy little thing - if so, no wonder she looked so disagreeable lol!

Mrs. B already had a young girl, Irna, working for her, but she was from a farming family and had been called home to help on the farm. Irna was a quiet, shy girl, plump and rosy cheeked,  who didn’t speak a word of English, but we got on very well together. She showed me what my duties were and it was nice, the two of us working together, I was really sad when, after a couple of days, she had to leave.

Mr. & Mrs. B have a lovely big detached house in Rotmonten, which is high up, in the posh suburbs of St Gallen. It’s quite a walk down hill into the town, but it just takes a couple of minutes on the bus. I was up at 7.30 on my first day, which wasn’t bad really, because when I was on the early shift at Stratters, I had to be at work by that time, not just trotting downstairs. But when Irna left, I then discovered that my day started at the rather earlier time of 6.30am :-(  There’s plenty to do. Certain things have to be done on a particular day of the week - every week.......Washing up the crockery, making beds, dusting, vacuuming etc. was par for the course, but when it came to cleaning out the cellar, which was used as the laundry, I was quite taken aback by the extent of the cleaning. It was the usual type of cellar, white washed brick walls, stone flagged floor, large white ‘butler’ sink with great big brass taps and lots of copper pipework. The floor had to be scrubbed and the pipework polished till it gleamed - I was pretty stunned, I can tell you lol. Til now, cellars had always been grimy places where coal or junk was kept, but I soon found that ‘grimy’ does not exist in the Swiss way of life!

The dining room had a beautiful parquet floor, no one was allowed to walk on it in high heels, even Mrs. B’s daughter-in-law would kick her beautiful stiletto heels off at the door. Every Wednesday I had to get down on my hands and knees and examine every part of it, seeking out the tiniest blemish. This flooring had been down for twenty years - and looked like it had been laid yesterday lol!

Mr B. owns a fabric factory near Zurich, so spends quite a lot of time away, which is a shame because he is really nice, life is much more pleasant when he is at home, her son, too, is really nice and so is the daughter-in-law - it’s just Mrs. B who has the personality disorder.........

I had to go to Rorshache for a medical - and discovered just what a small world it is. I met a girl called Nancy who is from Yorkshire and used to work at The Grand Hotel in Sheffield! We have decided to keep in touch and hope to meet up again sometime.

Mrs. B has arranged for me to have German lessons with the student son of one of her friends and I go during my ‘repose’ or siesta, as they would call it in Spain! I have about 2-3 hours to myself before starting work again around 5.30-6.0pm, earlier if they are having a dinner party. Apart from a sense of not liking each other very much, Mrs B will insist on my eating enormous amounts of food, she seems to think that my stomach is a dust bin and wants me to eat ALL the left overs from any meal. I cannot eat large amounts of food - I am a ‘grazer’, so things are getting rather tense between us. She also puts down my friends, which really, really annoys me grrrrr. Soon after I arrived in Switzerland, Friedel, Eugen’s sister rang to welcome me and ask me to go round to see her, it seems she and her husband live in an apartment block really close by - walking distance in fact. Mrs. B could not believe that any friend of mine could possibly live in such an exclusive area and declared that they were probably only the caretakers of this quite up-market property. I was furious - I’m afraid that the relationship between Mrs. B and myself, worsened daily!

Mrs. B used to be a nurse and a senior one at that, she was a very spritely and rather domineering lady in her fifties, I thought,  but sometimes, come 6.0pm she would start to change - it was actually quite scary - she seemed to shrivel into a much older lady and would prattle away ten to the dozen in Switzerdeutch, which she knew full well I did not understand - believe me, it is very, very different to standard German.   Come the next morning, much to my relief, she would be back to normal. 

My student teacher, Heiney, who is not quite 19 years old, and myself, get on very well together on a social level, although he is a very hard task master and insists on the correct pronunciation of a word before he will move on.  I remember spending ages trying to pronounce the word 'brucke' which has an umlaut (2 dots) above the 'u' which changes the sound and I couldn't get it right, arghhhh! I got so cross because he would not let it go.  But in time I found that I was able to talk to him and he was not in the least suprised to hear that I was having trouble with Mrs. B.  I'm afraid I used to take all my troubles to poor Heiney, but he was vey supportive.  I told him about Mrs. B's 'queer turns' and that's when I discovered that in fact Mrs. B was actually 68 years old!

On my trips down into the town, I had taken to stopping at one of the many cafe's, one in particular, The Neugasse, became my favourite, Rosemary, one of the waitresses is very friendly and asks me to help her with her English, which is much better than my German.  Rosemary and Erma, another waitress, become my best friends.

The Way We Were - Switzerland

Can anybody remember where we were????

I think I'd got back from my whistle stop tour of various countries and now back to wondering what the future holds. Eugen has written to his family to ask for their help in finding me a job. I was thrilled to receive a letter very quickly from an English woman who was married to a Swiss Manufacturer and living in St Gallen, which is in the German part of Switzerland. Eugen's sister Friedel and her husband lived in St Gallen and it was she who had made enquiries about employment for me. She hoped I would find something suitable as she was looking forward to meeting me!

A flurry of letter passed between myself and the English woman. She was looking for someone to help with general housework, her present helper had been called home to help on the family farm. I thought it sounded ideal - working for an English woman meant no immediate problems with the language and how difficult can housework be?????? Lol!

Just six weeks after receiving that first letter - all arrangements had been made for me to go and work in Switzerland! Eugen was not best pleased - he told me that I should wait for other offers of work and not just go for the first one. I'm a bit surprised at his grumpy attitude - maybe he's miffed because I've got my life on track and he hasn't - or maybe he is going to miss me.........

I have received a list of things that Mrs. B wants me to buy for her (I refer to my new employer as Mrs. B throughout my diary and now cannot remember her full name lol!) She wants Helena Rubenstein lipstick, Max Factor powder, and funnily enough - a bottle of Roses Lime Juice! Her favourite tipple is gin and lime - but she can’t get lime juice in Switzerland.

Would you believe it - I got a phone call from P & O asking me to join one of their ships! Haven’t heard a thing from them since the interview, then suddenly I’m summoned to start work! Too late - Switzerland here I come......

It turned out to be a frantic few weeks, one way and another - of course there had to be a leaving party or three, also I have got to know a young lady called Kathy who keeps ringing up to speak to Gene. She has been out of luck on several occasions, so I said I would ring her and let her know when Gene was next in the hotel. She came round to the hotel to meet Gene and stayed to have a chat with me, we have now got into the habit of meeting up for lunch. I told her I had been on the panel of ATV’s Thank Your Lucky Stars, and she said how much she would like to go on the panel too. I got in touch with Alan Freeman, the producer (not the DJ) and he made arrangements for us both to go to the Studios next week.

We went down to the Birmingham Studios by train and had a fabulous day. Craig Douglas was on the show along with The Merseybeats. Kathy and I were watching the rehearsals when Craig suddenly saw me and, much to my surprise, waved to me! (must have thought I was someone else lol) Kathy fancies one of the Merseybeats and is getting on very well with him......We went in the canteen and sat with Alan Freeman, Jimmy Saville and Brian Matthew. Brian asked me if I would like to be on the panel next week - I told him I’d already had my turn, but he said that was ok, I could have another go - so I shall be coming back here next week!

Kathy and I have been chatting with Janice Nichols who is a regular panellist and became known as the ‘Oil give it foive’ girl and the other guest panellist, Diana Vero, who is secretary to Brian Epstein - naturally we grill her about The Beatles!

At the end of a most interesting day, Kathy has accepted a lift back to London with The Merseybeats in their van and I have opted to go back with Alan and some of the others in his comfortable jag!

My brother Maurice and his wife Jan came up to London for the day on Monday, and to take some of the three years of accumulated belongings back to Sheffield for me. It’s a funny old world - yesterday I was in Birmingham, today I’m in London, and yet as we were going down Oxford Street and got stuck in the traffic at Marble Arch, I saw that in the open topped car along side of us were the camera men from Thank Your Lucky Stars - I don’t know who was the most surprised! Then driving along Knightbridge towards Ashley Court - saw Alan Freeman in his distinctive red jag..........

Alasdair Fraser is the manager at Stratters - and a cold hearted fish he is too. Because they need someone to fill my job when I go to Switzerland, he has decided when that is going to be, and isn’t waiting for me to leave, he is transferring me to The Mandeville Hotel just around the corner. I am not best pleased by this - I have enough to arrange without being turfed out of my job before I’m ready to go. He also says I must give up my room at Ashley Court - you wouldn’t think I’d given nearly three years of loyal work to this Company would you! Luckily Mrs Angus has stepped in to help me and says that as long as I am working for the Company, I am entitled to live at Ashley Court, but I have to move in with someone else for the last few days before I leave for Switzerland.

It has been a busy week, and to end it another trip to the Studios in Birmingham. Sunday morning I went over to Alan’s flat in Dolphin Square (very posh!) and waited for the others to arrive - Brian Matthew and a couple of others involved in the show arrived early and we sat around chatting and joking for a while, everyone seems to be in high spirits. We stopped at a pub to have lunch and laughed all the way through it, although I’m not sure what we were laughing at. I think the pub was called The Old Dun Cow, as I remember us all singing " The old Dun cow ain’t what she used to be" the rest of the way to Birmingham!

I was sitting in the stalls, watching rehearsals, when someone came to sit beside me - to my surprise I found myself gazing into a pair of teasing blue eyes - Mike Sarne’s! (he had a hit with Wendy Richards called ‘Come outside’). He had a cheeky but disarming grin on his face, as he told me that he knew all about me (!!) This was the guy who’d had flings with many beautiful and famous women, including Brigit Bardot, so I couldn’t help but feel flattered at his interest in me, but also all the more wary.........

A few of us met up in his dressing room later, it was a jolly group, but eventually there was just me and Mike........naturally he had to make a pass or two, and although he had a very badly pock marked skin, he wasn’t a bad looking bloke, nevertheless, I didn’t really fancy him, and his offers of taking me out on the town the next evening didn’t tempt me in anyway.

I went back to London with the same crowd I came down with. We all went back to Alan’s flat for a very late supper, we had a good laugh - they had some interesting stories to tell...... Eventually I was dropped off at Ashley Court around 2.0am, and I loved the fact that although I was just an ordinary working girl, my address was probably much posher than any of theirs......... ;-)

It will be my birthday in a few days time and I shall be celebrating it in Switzerland, so Eugen is taking me out to dinner at out favourite place on Ken High - the El Sombrero. We have been here often for coffee and cakes, but during the evening it is more of a night club - good food, dimmed lights.....and a Cabaret......

We had a lovely evening, Eugen told me more about his family and his ambitions..........and he’s told me that he’s handed in his notice and will be going home to Switzerland in about a months time - he says we will celebrate my birthday again, there!

I feel quite shell shocked at this news - Eugen said that he would not return to Switzerland as he felt trapped living at home. He knows his parents' dearest wish is for him to take over the family business. He says that everyone will be thinking that he is following me, but insists that he’s simply had enough of Alasdair Fraser and just feels the need to move on.

My best friends, Janet and Bernie came to my room for a long girly chat - Janet leaves for Paris in two weeks time to take up a job in a French family as a Nanny - we have all promised to keep in touch.

Today I go to Switzerland and it’s raining cats and dogs! Eugen is coming to help me with my luggage and take me to the West London air terminal in Cromwell Road. Because of the rain we cannot get a taxi and we are running out of time. It is quite a walk to the terminal from the top of Queensgate, but Eugen says we do not have any choice and we will try to get a taxi on the way. How on earth Eugen managed to carry my two heavy suitcases, I will never know - but we ended up having to walk the whole way there and we both looked like drowned rats! Not the best image of me to leave with Eugen, and I only just managed to catch the bus by the skin of my teeth - we didn’t even manage a kiss goodbye.........sob.

The Rolling Stones & A.L.O.

It's been a long time I know, but finally getting around to continuing where I left off from 'A Strange Romance' back in February.

I got so sidetracked with other memories that I quite got away from life at Stratters. I was going to tell you about the time The Rolling Stones came to stay. They often popped into Stratters when Gene Pitney was in Town and you certainly knew when they were in! What a noisy, scruffy, uncouth lot they were - in such great contrast to Gene who was always polite and friendly to everyone and always smartly dressed. There was one person accompanying them who seemed at odds with The Stones, I assumed he was one of their ‘minions’, a fresh-faced young man of about 18-19 years old, always nicely dressed in grey flannels, white shirt and navy blazer, his gingery-blond hair nicely cut. I got to know him as Andy Oldham, he always used to smile and say hello and eventually we got to chatting. I was always happy to see him - I came to think of him as a pal, he’d always pop his head round the door of the switch room to say Hi. The Stones continued to pop in, either together or individually, but after a while, there was no sign of Andy - I quite missed his cheery face.

I came into work one day to find The Stones gathered around the Reception, noisily checking in - they looked me up and down with an arrogant leer - I couldn’t wait to get into the switchroom, perhaps my lack of response irked them - because we telephonists seemed to become the butt of their wrath. My fellow telephonist, Dottie, had no time for them at all, and let them know of her disdain in no uncertain manner, I came into work one day to find that one of them had reported her to the manager for being rude lol! The manager knew full well the difficulties The Stones were causing the staff - my friend Bernie was one of the Housekeepers at that time, and the tales she told me regarding their ‘personal hygiene’ - or lack of it, and the state of their rooms - were quite sickening. Dottie had no compunction about listening in to The Stones’s phone calls - she was listening in to one of their conversations one day when she turned to me, "You should hear the way they are talking to this fan", she whispered. Personally, I always suspected that the guests could tell when there was someone else on the line and did not feel inclined to make matters worse for ourselves. She told me later that their language had been absolutely foul and had told the female fan exactly what they were going to do to her, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination!

Someone who used to ring up regularly whenever any Pop Stars were staying at Stratters, was DJ and Record Producer, Tony Hall.  He was always very friendly and said he would pop in the switchroom and say hello the next time he came to Stratters.  He was true to his word too, but I was never there on those occasions - and although we would become good friends, it would be a while before we finally got around to meeting.

On coming out of the switch room one day, I found The Stones were at reception so I was in no mood for smiling, I saw this young man standing in the Front Hall - seemingly quite aloof from everything and everybody around him. His high buttoned, close fitting, pinstriped suite emphasised his rather skinny frame - he looked quite the Dandy lol! His hair was long around the back of his neck and ears, although cut quite stylish. But what struck me most were the narrow, rectangular spectacles he wore - they gave him a rather sinister demeanor - I disliked him on sight and perhaps it showed in my face, I don’t know. Later, I asked Mitch, the Head Porter, who he was - Mitch knew everything - he told me that the strange young man was the manager of The Rolling Stones, and his name was Andrew Loog Oldham! I was dumbfounded - how could anyone change so much and so completely? There was no sign left at all of the nice Andy Oldham I’d once known, but even though I hadn’t recognised him, he knew me - I hadn’t changed. But there was no friendly hello. I was saddened to have lost a friend, and for years, remained totally baffled at the reason for this about-face.

Goodness knows why - it was pretty obvious really, that the ‘nice boy next door’ image did not fit well with being the manager of the notorious Rolling Stones. Fine, change the image then - but did he have to change his personality to the extent that he felt he couldn’t speak to me? Of course, there’s also the possibility that he found MY demeanor rather off-putting - perhaps if I’d recognised him and said a cheery hello and maybe complimented him on his new image (even though I hated it!), things may have been different. I re-acted to what I perceived as his hostility, with hostility of my own - I was quick to judge him. Perhaps underneath the new image - he was still the same nice young man I’d known - lessons to be learned here - hmmm?

Gene and The Stones often went off to the recording studios together, and jammed around, sometimes with Gene on the drums - a not widely known fact that Gene was the ‘guest’ drummer on some of The Stones’ recordings. They also put their composing hats on for Gene’s hit ‘That Girl Belongs to Yesterday’ (Jagger-Richards) which got to number 7 in the UK Charts in 1964.

Gene’s manager popped his head round the switchroom door one day to tell me that they would be having a bit of a party in the hotel, they would be giving a spin to Gene’s latest recording as well as listening to some demo discs and needed a record player. I volunteered to lend them the joy of my life - my Dansette record player. I was invited to join the party - which I would love to have accepted but for two reasons - 1. Staff were not allowed to fraternise with the guests. 2. The Rolling Stones would be there! My old mate Dennis, had been invited and came to Ashley Court to pick up my record player and take it back to Stratters for me. Dennis had a car, I wouldn’t have wanted to struggle with this rather cumbersome piece of equipment on the bus - how very different from the mp3 players of today lol!

Gene came to see me the next day to say thanks for the loan of my Dansette and to say how sorry he was that I hadn’t managed to get to the party as it had been a blast, but as a thank you, he was giving me all the records they’d been listening to, which included a mix of singles, LP’s and single sided demo discs. They all had ‘not for sale’ stickers on them, which seemed quite ironic bearing in mind that one of the LP’s was ‘Beatles For Sale’ lol! I also found a large envelope from Gene’s manager with lots of lovely A4 size photographs of Gene in it, all of which Gene had signed especially for me. Whilst looking through my record collection (which has travelled with me through the decades lol) I found a single of Gene’s and on the paper record sleeve he’d written a little message to me - aah! I often wondered if the songs/singers on the demo discs ever saw the light of day - one of them was a little ditty called ‘Bubblepop’, but the singer didn’t get a mention........wonder who he was???

OAP's

Whilst listening to Radio Cambridgeshire this  morning, I heard a term I hadn't heard in a while - OAP - in reference to consessions.  Imagine still being called an Old Age Pensioner!  I thought that was dropped years ago in favour of Senior Citizen - which I thought was a good idea until I became one lol!

After thinking it over for a while, I decided to email the programme and suggest that the Presenter ask listeners for better alternatives, and they joined in with gusto. There were some really funny ones, here are some of them:

STOP - Silver Top Older Person ( not me - not whilst there are blonding kits around lol!)

'Worldly' or 'Worldly Wise'

'Recycled Teenager' - my favourite

'Member of the Upper Age Bracket'

'Graduate from the University of Life'

'Goldfish' - as in 'memory of' - that's me - the old memory has temporarily  dried up.

But would be interesting to hear what you would like to be called when you become a part of this illustrious group lol!

Freda

Yay - I'm a Star! lol

I was interviewed on Radio Cambridgeshire on Friday.

They had been asking if any of the listeners had ever had a 'gruesome' job, this followed on from a report that someone had been hired (probably by a deodorant Company) to sniff armpits lol!  Well I thought my job in the Pregnancy Diagnostic Centre injecting large slimy toads, ranked as pretty gruesome, so I sent the Presenter an email outlining the basics of the job.  I got a response asking me for more details, so I sent off the complete journal entry that I wrote on here.  Back came another email from the producer of the show saying they were fascinated and wanted to interview me live on air!   

So on Friday morning I had my ten minutes of 'fame' lol! I know it was 40 odd years ago, that this was the way of testing for pregnancy, and I don't know exactly when  it ceased, but I didn't realise that there were people who had never heard of this method and consequently, found it so hard to believe!  Anyway, after a ten minute question and answer session, it was decided to give me the 'award' (purely verbal) for having had the most gruesome job they had ever heard of!

There are other jobs I did in my young life that are now obsolete and I can tell you - it really makes me feel OLD lol!!!!

As its VE Day - a reminder of The Way We Were

World War II

It's the 1940's; the blackout, the bombs, the barrage balloons, the sirens. The midnight race down the garden to the Anderson Shelter .... Sheffield took a hell of a beating during the war.

We live in City Road in Sheffield, a tall Victorian terrace house, the once white stone now black, with the years of smoke from the steel mills. The front garden is steep, and many steps lead up to the front door, (however did Mum get the pram up and down all those steps?) but we always use the long, narrow, echoing passage that leads to a small yard and the back door. To the right of the yard is our lavvy; it has a large wooden seat - big enough to accommodate two small bottoms in an emergency! A long chain hangs down from a tank of water, and I have to climb up onto the seat to reach it, when I pull it I have to jump down quick and get out of the way, other wise the water that flushes the toilet splashes over the top of the tank and showers me with cold water! Its walls are whitewashed on the inside, and neat squares of newspaper hang from a string. (Toilet rolls? What are toilet rolls??) Our big tin bath hangs from a large nail just outside the back door.  Mum usually sits me on the wooden draining board, my feet dangling in the big white sink, and washes me all over with a big rough flannel - I hate it when she shoves a corner of it into my ears, it tickles horribly!  She rubs me dry with a coarse towel, the kitchen has a cold stone flagged flloor and I'm glad to be able to huddle by the kitchen grate, there's an oven to one side of the fire where mum makes lovely hot scones.  We have jam on them sometimes - but I don't know anything about butter!

We have a small plot leading off from the yard towards a high wall, well, it's high to me, anyway. I've often skinned my knees in an attempt to climb high enough to look over into the brickyard, and the hills beyond. Dad has dug over a small patch in the hope of growing a few vegetables, there's a black smouldering mound where all the rubbish is burned, I found a pair of shoes that had belonged to one of my sisters, on the mound, waiting to be incinerated, but I saved them! I love shoes I do - none get past me! Our house has a large kitchen, there's a big wooden table in the middle, which we hide under when the bombs are dropping and we haven't had time to get to the Anderson Shelter. Mum is very careful about keeping the blackout curtains in place, not a chink of light must show through to give away our position to the enemy! There's a big balloon over our house - it almost touches the chimney, it reminds me of an elephant without any legs and it frightens me so much I try not to look up at it, but I know it's there - and I wish it would go away! I cling fearfully to my Mum when I hear the awful wail of the sirens (I can hear them still), and wait... there always seems to be a long, long silence - just before the bombs drop...

There is devastation everywhere, but somehow we get used to it, I'm too young to understand the significance of it. "Mrs. so and so's got hit last night..." friends, neighbours - some homeless, some lost forever. I can't remember when the sirens finally stopped, when the 'balloon' went away - I cannot even remember the war ending.  The rationing seemed to go on forever.........

The Girl With A Hole In Her Heart

Although we spent most of our time high up in the ‘gods’ on our frequent visits to the Theatre, there were the odd occasions when the opposite was the case, and we found ourselves in the ‘Royal Box’, where we were treated like royalty. The Star of the show would give us special attention and, seeing this, the other artists in the show would do the same, even tho they didn’t know what was ‘special’ about us lol! I was too young to appreciate all this attention and would happily have done without it, I’m sure my sister, Mavis, felt the same way, as it’s her rather sad story that was the reason for all this special attention.

It’s May 1941 and mum had just given birth to her 5th child - me! Sheffield was on the receiving end of Hitler’s bombers as they tried to obliterate the steel mills. So there was poor mum, on her own with five children, including a new baby, and bombs dropping all around and worrying about the health of my older sister Mavis, who was not developing as a normal, rumbustious five year old should. Many tests and examinations later, would show that Mavis had been born with a heart defect - the blood was not circulating around her heart in the normal way, and therefore not being oxygenated, which resulted in the bluish tinge to Mavis’s skin and lips after the slightest exertion. The specialists had found a hole in her heart and she was destined to spend the rest of her life in a wheel chair.

This was the 1940's and very little was known about Mavis’s condition, everything would be experimental. Effectively, Mavis was a guinea pig, I’m sure that many of today’s successful heart operations were based on these trials. Our whole family life was centred around Mavis’s condition, sometimes, my other sister, Barbara and myself would be sent off to a Children’s home for a short time whilst mum & dad went to London with Mavis to see her specialist, Professor Wain. Significant perhaps, that I can remember his name so easily, after all these years. I enjoyed these periods at the homes, I remember carefree, sunny days, but they turned into traumatic memories for Barbara - being separated from our parents..........

It was hard for Mavis, watching her two younger sisters growing up normally and doing all the things that she wanted to do. She had to go to a ‘Special’ school, and although of perfectly normal intellect, her schooling was frequently interrupted by long bouts of ill health. Mavis and I spent hours together, discussing her condition - she was very interested in all that was happening to her and always had a host of questions for her Heart Specialist. Consequently I became very interested in biology and got to know far more than we were ever taught at school - I was quite proud of the fact that I always came top of the class when it came to biology exams lol! In fact my biology teacher would often ask me questions about Mavis?s condition and progress.

As time went on, Mavis became known as ?The Sheffield Blue Baby? and as such, was a local celeb lol! The Sheffield Telegraph & Star took a particular interest in her, and it was they who arranged for her to meet the Stars who came to the Empire Theatre. Comedians Frank Randle and Al Read took a particular interest in Mavis, as did brothers Albert & Les Ward - comedians and performers who played every instrument imaginable, they were playing the washboard long before Lonnie Donnegan lol! These Stars were also very kind to the rest of the family. It was Frank Randle who arranged for us to have the ?Royal Box? and gave us such special attention whilst he was on stage performing.

When Mavis was 15, her doctors at the Hammersmith Hospital in London, decided to go ahead with a pioneering operation to repair the whole in her heart. A piece of Mavis? own tissue was going to be used, they chose to use the pulse in her left wrist - nobody asked - and so they didn?t know - that Mavis was left handed..... But she got her own back in due course - whenever she had her pulse taken, she?d offer her left wrist and watch with glee as the doctor/nurse searched in vain for any sign of a pulse beat lol!

Poor Mavis - she was left with precious little dignity - everyone seemed to forget that she was an adolescent emerging into adulthood, her hospital bed was forever surrounded by students and junior doctors - of course everyone was interested in this innovative surgery.

What she suffered during those rather rudimentary and experimental procedures doesn?t bear thinking about. Because of her weak heart, the anaesthetist dare not put her fully under, even to operate on her heart. They had to lower her temperature and therefore her heartbeat, to a quite dangerous level, by packing ice around her, and then give her a light anaesthetic....... and this was no keyhole surgery. Mavis was cut from just under her left arm and diagonally across her back to her right side just above the waist.

Today it?s possible to repair a hole in the heart by passing a patch via a catheter through a vein in the groin and onwards up into the heart, where scar tissue will form to hold the patch in place. But for Mavis, there were long and gruelling weeks of treatment, Mum even went to work at Hammersmith Hospital as a Ward Orderly so as to be near at hand. Barbara and I had to go and live with our Great Aunt, who we both feared, Aunty Ena & Uncle Walter had not been blessed with children of their own, and although Uncle Walter was a real sweetie - Aunty Ena was very strict! We had to go to a new school on the other side of Sheffield, which was truly horrible - being new and not having any friends. We hadn?t been there very long before we caught the school child?s plague - nits! It wasn?t our fault, but from Aunty Ena?s rage, you would have thought so! That was an awful episode, boy was I glad to eventually get back to my old school. But there were good bits - picking bilberries on the moors and taking them back for Aunty Ena to turn into the most scrumptious steamed bilberry pudding, served with creamy custard - yum yum - I remember it still!

The homecoming for Mavis was truly spectacular. She was featured in all the papers, Mum had bought her a very pretty pink satin dress to wear on this special occasion - and my thoughts were - how long til I get it lol! There were wonderful parties and we all had a jolly good time.

Mavis had been told that the operation would enhance and prolong her life, but she would never be ?normal? ( yes, that was the word they used!) like other girls - she would never be able to marry and have children - hah!

Once Mavis had been released from that wheelchair - she was off like a rocket - eager to do all the things that had so far been denied her. Mum & Dad went through even more worrying times as Mavis attempted to burn the candle at both ends. Inevitably, she wound up in hospital on several occasions after coughing up blood, fainting and various other worrying symptoms - all due to her hectic life style. Eventually she decided she was going to get a flat of her own and live her life without any family interference - life became very uneasy for all of us. In due course Mavis met the man she had decided to marry ( a most unwise choice, I have to say!) Sadly their first child was born prematurely and did not survive, but Mavis battled on, and despite various miscarriages, she did manage to have 3 healthy children.

Despite, or maybe because of, her health, Mavis had a will of steel and I?m happy to say that on 30th March she will be 69 years old!

I often wish that all those doctors who helped Mavis back to health 54 years ago, could have known just how successful their experimentations were.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY FOR THE 30TH MARCH MAVIS !

Those Teenage Years!

I look back and wonder how it was, that by the age of 18 I came to be running 5 fans clubs? I blame my parents lol! They were dragging me to the Variety Theatre when I was only a toddler. I hated going then - we could only afford to sit in the ‘gods’ and it was a very long climb up all those steps for a pair of tiny legs, and when I got there I was terrified! The seats were set at such a steep gradient I was terrified I would fall all the way down to that tiny stage if I leaned over too far. I would sit well back in my seat holding on tightly to my mother’s hand and refused to budge - event to go to the end of the row to get an ice cream during the interval. I hated Pantomimes - I didn’t understand what was going on, I especially hated the comedians as I didn’t understand I word they said. I did like the dancers though - I just loved the sound of their tap shoes on the wooden stage.

But as I got older and Pop Shows came along, I really enjoyed going to the theatre. I would always go round to the stage door to collect photos and autographs, everybody formed an orderly queue - there was no scuffling or screaming then! I would try to judge it right and if the queue wasn’t too long - I’d make sure I was on the end of it, that way I would get an extra long chat with the star. This strategy worked very well when Terry Dene came to Sheffield, we were both teenagers, and we chatted away about this and that - like teenagers do, he was a nice ordinary guy, so I was really shocked to discover that he had gone off the rails whilst in Sheffield and had been arrested for being drunk and disorderly in the street. He was called up for National Service but couldn’t hack it - his career came to an abrupt halt at that moment. He married another singer, Edna Savage, but it wasn’t to last. I loved his version of ‘A White Sports Coat’ which vied for chart position (No.18) with Marty Robbins, and The King Brothers (No.6).

He also made a film called ‘The Golden Disc’, which by today’s standards was pretty naff, but I felt it epitomised that ‘juke box/coffee bar’ era perfectly, and I just love the quaintness of it.

I was a big fan of The King Brothers. Of course I went round to the stage door when they were appearing at the Empire Theatre in Sheffield. I was a particular fan of Dennis, the youngest brother, who played the piano and who went on to compose theme music for TV and Films. I asked if they had a fan club - they asked me if I was interested in running one for them? They gave me the name and address of their record company and in due course I became their fan club secretary for the North of England. I soon found that this position was like a passport through the stage door and into the dressing room lol! But I found Dennis to be rather remote, perhaps locked up in his composing, but his two elder brothers, Michael and Tony were always very communicative, especially Tony, after a visit to their dressing room, he would always accompany me to the stage door (perhaps making sure I was off the premises lol!)

Then along came The Mudlarks, I loved their weird kind of singing. Their biggest hit, ?Lollipop? went to No. 2 in what was then called ?The Hit Parade?. Again I went along to the stage door to get their autographs and asked if they had a fan club, I found Fred, the eldest, to be very friendly and he gave me the address of someone who he said was handling their fan mail. She turned out to be Fred?s girlfriend, a very nice young lady called Jan who lived in Luton, she phoned after receiving my letter and we had a long chat. We went on to exchange long girly letters and eventually she came to stay at the Victoria Hotel in Sheffield and I went over to meet her. Although she was only about 3 years older than me, she was much more glamorous and sophisticated - a posh totty - but very nice. She came over to our house and got on very well with the rest of my family, we decided to go for fish & chips and walked along the street eating them out of newspaper, this was a perfectly normal event for us, but for Jan it was a first lol!

Craig Douglas then came on the scene - he was my kind of guy - the boy next door type, and I became a huge fan. It turned out that he had the same management as The Mudlarks, and they asked if I would like to form the Northern fan club for Craig too.

Staying up way beyond my bedtime tonight, to surf the net for info on these folks from the past, and watching TV at the same time, on came ?Never Mind The Buzzcocks? which I only watch very occasionally - lucky I caught it tonight! It featured a clip of a young Craig Douglas singing his biggest chart entry ?Only Sixteen? and then we saw Craig as he is today - not changed a bit Craig lol!

The Sheffield Telegraph & Star were getting in on the teenage phenomenon and began a section in the Saturday edition called ?The Teenager Page?, and they had a section on fan clubs, so this is where myself and others let the other teenagers of Sheffield know about our fans clubs. Eddie Holland was the editor of The Teenage Page and he had an assistant, Geoff, who began to ring me on a regular basis looking for information for the page. Eventually, Eddie Holland decided to get all the teenagers together and form a club, he contacted all of those who ran fan clubs and we all met up - his idea was to form a committee to organise events for the young people of Sheffield and the surrounding area. Whenever a Pop Star came to Sheffield, we would organise a ?welcoming? party for them - all paid for by the newspaper of course :-)

They were fabulous affairs - usually held in a local hotel, who put on a wonderful buffet, but most importantly, we got to meet the stars on a personal basis and had lots of photographs taken with them. You had to be a member of the Teenage Page Club to be in with a chance of an invite to these parties, but the committee were allowed to go to all of them lol!

Suddenly, everybody wanted to be a Pop Star, and Pop Groups sprouted up all over the Country, and Sheffield had quite a crop of their own, so to showcase all this budding talent, a local cinema started a Saturday morning ?Talent Show? - anyone who wanted to ?do a turn,? could. It soon became obvious that we had a very talented group in our midst - Dave Berry and The Cruisers, they became the Group that everybody wanted to listen to. I?d always loved singing - I?d been an avid member of the school choir and then my local church choir. During one of the Saturday morning shows, another girl said she wanted to get up on the stage and sing but was too scared, so I offered to sing with her. The musical director took us to one side and showed us how to harmonise - I was amazed at how good we sounded over the microphone! Despite this, the young lady didn?t turn up the following week, and I didn?t want to continue on my own - shame - we could have been the first Cheeky Girls lol!

I got to know Dave Berry through being a regular at the Saturday morning talent shows, and when he discovered that I ran several fan clubs - he asked if I would start one for him as he was now getting a lot of bookings and had become semi-pro - he still kept on his job at the steel mills, but performed most evenings and weekends and was a big hit with the local girls! This became a very interesting time for me, because Dave liked to travel around with a fairly large but tight groupof friends and relatives - and so I started to pile into the back of the van with everyone else and join them on their gigs. It was really good fun - Dave was the friendliest of guys - and despite his ever growing popularity, his feet remained firmly on the ground. But there was one unhappy occasion when I nearly got beaten up in the girls toilets! Dave would often play at Youth Clubs, and although he was always available to his fans, he usually came to sit with his ?entourage? and sometimes he would take time out to dance with me. I met up with some of his more aggressive fans in one of the toilets and they got pretty nasty as they thought I was ?keeping him all to myself? It took Dave himself to come bursting into the toilets to rescue me lol!

During one of the ?welcoming parties?, I met a young singer called Billy Raymond, he was also compering the Pop Show at the City Hall. He was a good looking guy with a great voice, funny how, despite having all the talent, some just don?t have that extra ingredient to propel them into stardom. I liked Billy a lot and offered to start a fan club for him in an attempt to promote his popularity, but it didn?t work - although he had a recording contract with HMV, recording fame eluded him, and he disappeared into the ether.

So those were my five fan clubs. Running fan clubs also brought me into contact with other fan club secretaries, one of them, Carole, ran Paul Anka?s British Fan Club. Paul was a huge star, and Carole was on very good terms with both Paul and Paul?s manager, who also managed other top American Stars including The Everley Brothers, Gene Vincent and Eddie Cochrane. So whenever any of these stars came to tour the UK, Carole would contact Paul?s manager and ask him to arrange for her to meet these stars. When the Everley Brothers came to Sheffield, she arranged for she and I to go back stage to meet them, and even had a photographer on hand to take some photographs - smart girl!

In return, I took her with me when I went to see Craig, and we didn?t mind how far we travelled. On one occasion we went to Doncaster to see Craig, but by this time, the fans were getting a little excitable and were more inclined to crowd around the stage door in a most unseemly manner lol - the ?orderly queue? was a thing of the past. The Mudlarks were also appearing in the same show, so it was an interesting meeting, the two male members, Fred and Dave, were very friendly, but Mary was not quite so accommodating and made it quite clear that she didn?t want us there. We were all back stage (Craig, the Mudlarks, Carole and me) when suddenly the fans burst through the stage door, the manager and his henchmen came to clear them all out and I could see that we were in danger of being cleared out with them, so Carole and I slipped into the toilets, shut the door fast and leaned against it - no one else was coming in here! When all seemed quiet we came out again, and met Craig in the corridor, he asked if we were ok and told us not to take any notice of Mary, he?d thought that our sudden disappearance was due to Mary having told us to go!

It?s the beginning of April 1960 - Eddie Cochrane and Gene Vincent were the main stars of the Rock?n Roll show put on by Larry Parnes to tour the UK. The tour was coming to an end so Carole and I went over to Manchester to catch one of the last shows before it moved on to Bristol for the last one before Eddie and Gene were heading home to the US for a short break. Also on the show were some of Larry Parnes? young wannabes - Joe Brown, Johnny Gentle, and Duffy Power. Carole had arranged for us to go back stage to meet Gene and Eddie. Eddie?s dressing room was pretty small, both he and Gene were in there with two dark haired girls, one was Sharon Sheeley, Eddie?s fiancé. Carole and I stood just inside the doorway, Carole told them she was Paul Anka?s fan club secretary and they had a little chat, both Eddie and Gene were nice and friendly but it was obvious the girls found out presence intrusive, so we retreated to the dressing room just across the corridor where we got a much warmer welcome. Joe Brown and the other young rockers were happy to have us join them, we were told that two more young lads had come to the theatre to audition for Larry?s ?stable? - a tall handsome young man in a red jumper called Danny Hunter, and another one, who was at that moment in the middle of his audition, Danny Rivers. We had a good laugh in Joe?s dressing room, these were kids of our own age and just trying to make it in show biz - they were very down to earth and happy to have our company. Joe and I were sitting next to each other and one of the others remarked how much alike we looked lol! I didn?t have Joe?s spikey hair, but I could understand what he meant, we both had blonde hair and blue eyes, very fair skin with freckles and features that had a vague similarity, we were also the same age, in fact we had been born only a few days apart - Joes? birthday being on the 14th May and mine on the 9th, but I had been born in Yorkshire and Joe within the sound of Bow Bells!

It really was the most awful shock when we heard the news of the accident that happened just a few days later around midnight 16/17th April 1960. The car that Gene, Eddie, Sharon Sheeley and someone else, were travelling to the airport in, had crashed. Gene was badly injured, Sharon was also injured, but Eddie was dying............

Whilst scanning in the photos of The Everley Brothers, I noticed the date written on the back - 16th April 1960 - spooky :-( Whilst we were having these photos taken, Eddie was taking that fateful taxi journey.............

Waiting at Heathrow Airport to travel to the US with Gene and Eddie, was a young Rocker, also from the Larry Parnes stable, called Vince Eager, he was hoping to make it big in the US, waiting with him was Larry Parnes' assistant, a young lady called Jenny.......

Unfortunately, due to these tragic circumstances, Vince?s trip to America had to be cancelled, so we will never know how successful he might have been.

There were many Pop Magazines out during this wonderful era - ?Marilyn? was one such that I took on a regular basis because it had a fan club page, and whenever one of my fan clubs got a mention, I was inundated with fan mail. I?d noticed that someone else seemed to advertize an inordinate number of fan clubs too - even more than I had and she had noticed my name appearing with increasing frequency against the name of different Pop Stars. Eventually, out of curiosity, I decided to drop her a line, and funnily enough, she had the same idea - our letter crossed in the post!

So began a long and enduring friendship. A flurry of letters passed between us - two teenagers with the same interests, getting to know each other. It turned out that Jenny had, what seemed to me, the most exciting job in the world - she was secretary to John Kennedy and Larry Parnes - Impressarios of Pop. She was only eighteen, but she was mother, sister, friend and nanny to all the young wannabes in the Parnes/Kennedy stable. Her favourite Pop Star was Tommy Steele, but her favourite amongst the raw recruits was a young man called Dickie Pride. He appeared many times on Jack Good?s TV Pop Shows such as ?Oh Boy? and ?Boy Meets Girls?, he had a very good voice, but he was also beset with health problems and sadly, died very young.

More?????;-)

My Life in Politics ROFLOL!

I have never been a political animal - I admit to having had a carefree, frivolous youth. Then came marriage and children, I was told I was wasting my vote by not voting for anyone - so I voted Liberal - simply because they were the smallest of the ‘Big Three‘ and I voted just to even things up a little. So one may well wonder how I managed to become secretary to my local Conservative Party lol! Yes - the V.I.P. at the meeting I was supposed to be attending when I decided to see Gene instead, was John Major! He wasn’t PM then, in fact he was merely running for election as our local MP, but a much admired and Very Important Person locally.

It all happened by accident. I’d just moved to this village and didn’t know anyone. I was walking down the High Street one Saturday when I noticed a sign at the gateway of a large house advertizing a Garden Party taking place that afternoon. A good place to meet the locals, I thought, my children were out with their friends, so I left a note telling them where I was going and to join me there later on. For some reason I drove there in my old banger - although it was only walking distance - my old Ford Estate was not a pretty sight - rust having taken over from most of the original blue paint, but it was very reliable :-/

As I turned into the parking area, I noticed a very smart navy blue Volvo Estate following me in, I was so hoping it wouldn’t park right next to mine - but it did - sigh......

The driver and I emerged from our cars at the same time - a tall, slim young man with large horn rimmed specs that really suited his round, pleasant face. He gave me a friendly smile, and I made a rueful remark about our two cars looking like the beauty and the beast. "Well, it goes, doesn’t it?" he asked cheerily. I agreed that it did indeed, and was extremely reliable. "That’s all you need, then" he responded. We walked across the car park together, and up the long path to the house, chatting and laughing as though we’d known each other for ages, and that is precisely the impression we were giving to those who came to greet us as we entered the garden. The owner of the house brought us both cups of tea, a chair was brought out - ostensibly for the male guest, but he offered it to me. We continued to make small talk, and someone came to offer us a plate of buttered scones. I thought how nice and friendly everyone was being, eventually he was coaxed away by the other ladies, who, understandably wanted some attention from this nice, and rather attractive, young man.

Others came to talk to me, only afterwards did I realise that they were trying to find out the connection between myself and the young man who they referred to as ?John?. I thought that they were simply being extra friendly to a newcomer to the village. There was fun and games to be had in the garden, one such game was knocking tin cans off a wall by throwing bean bags at them - the prize was a large, fresh chicken, for the highest score of the day. When I went to take my turn at this game, John stood at my shoulder encouraging me with gusto, he frowned comically when I failed to beat the current highest score - which turned out to be his. "Have another go" he pleaded "I need someone to beat my score - I?d feel guilty taking home someone?s Sunday lunch!" I paid my 5p and made another attempt to beat his score, but without success. John?s score remained the highest for most of the afternoon, when my children arrived, immediately John encouraged them to have a go at beating his score - maybe this attention to my kids also gave observers the impression that John was a family friend, when all he wanted was for someone to beat his score, lol. My daughter didn?t manage it, but to his obvious relief, my son did. I could almost taste that lovely plump roasted chicken - then, darn it, right at the last minute someone beat my son?s score :-(

Many people came to chat to me during the afternoon, but only one of them asked me the pertinent question - how did I know John? It had eventually dawned on me that ?John? was somebody special - he was the successor to our local MP Lord Renton, who was retiring, and this garden party was in aid of the Conservative Party funds. I told him honestly, that we had met in the car park......... I think my ?popularity? took a bit of a dive as soon as this information was circulated, but I had already been asked if I would like to join their next meeting, and, purely in the interest of taking part in the village community, I accepted.

During that meeting, I was elected onto the committee and assigned a job to help in the campaign to get John Major elected as our local MP. I have to admit that some of it was great fun, I got invited to some of the grandest houses in the village and took part in social events that I wouldn?t otherwise have done, also, I got to like John Major, and came to loathe with a vengeance all the horrible things that were said about him when he became Prime Minister - never was there a person who was LESS ?grey? than him. Perhaps he was just too nice, too ordinary - the press couldn?t find anything wrong with him so they had to make it up.

I can?t say that I enjoyed the committee meetings very much, I got the impression that there was very little ?love in the room? - plenty of spite though.........when the long serving secretary became ill, I found myself elected to the job - ha ha ha - I?d never taken minutes in my life, I didn?t know what sort of thing to write down. I was told that I should write everything down unless it was agreed by all that it was ?off the record?. It seems there had been some controversy in the past about what should and should not be written down, and was advised to read back through the book of minutes to find out what had gone before - it made for very interesting reading lol! As it turned out, John was elected by the biggest majority of any other MP in the Country and his rise up the ranks was meteoric!

John was not slow to show his gratitude and we all got personal letters of thanks from him. We were euphoric over the wonderful result, but, job done, I did not want to remain on the committee. Then I read in the local paper that a wonderful working forge in a nearby village was up for sale - the blacksmith was retiring, it was highly likely that a developer would buy it, demolish the forge and build on the land. A few locals decided that this wonderful landmark should be preserved - and I agreed, we set up an action group to try to raise the £20,000 that the Blacksmith was asking. He liked the idea of keeping the forge going and was happy to give the Group the first chance of purchase.

We met in each other homes to draw up a plan of action - which meant writing to anyone who we thought might be able to help. I wrote to Maggie Thatcher - no reply - but she did use something I said in my letter in one of her speeches - just coincidence of course ;-) also Prince Charles - his office responded with good advice, and John Major, who replied by return of post and promised to do all he could to help us in our cause and offered to become our President if we thought it might help. As members of our Group were of differing political persuasions, I wasn?t sure what the response might be - when I read out John?s letter, they almost jumped on me "I hope you?ve written back accepting" was the delighted response. I told them I hadn?t, as I wasn?t sure it was what they wanted. I was told to write back without delay - they thought having our local MP as our President was an enormous boost to our cause. So followed a flurry of letters and telephone calls - John was very supportive, and responded to every letter by return of post.

We arranged for him to visit the forge to publicise our cause, along came photographers and news reporters too. We had lots of photos taken with John and I had a ?blink and you?ll miss it? moment on local TV, pictured with John.

Despite our valiant attempt to save the forge - we could not raise enough money to buy it, and after a year, the Blacksmith was becoming anxious. There was a developer waiting to snap up the property and we could no longer expect the blacksmith to wait for his money. We did get the council to put certain provisos on the development ie - the forge must be developed and not demolished - hah! The developer simply put up impenetrable fencing all around the property so that no one could see that he was doing just what he liked. Consequently, there was nothing left of the original forge.

I just love local history, and the whole Group were deeply saddened to have lost our cause - I was even inspired to write a poem lol! Which perhaps may have done some good. Someone in New Zealand thought it summed up what was happening out there and asked if he could send it to the local newspaper to make his point.

Here it is:

Reach out and touch me before I am gone

I?m here all around you - in brick and in stone

I?m cobwebs in attics - dust on the stair

Friendships forgotten - but not beyond repair

I?m fine architecture - our heritage unique

Quaint cottage and forge - now empty and bleak

I?m rich threads once woven into a glorious tapestry

of people and places - lost in memory

Reach out - hold on fast

Don?t lose me forever

For I am your past

Especially for Sylvia!

Not that I want to make you jealous Sylvia lol!

Freda

We'll Meet Again?

O.k Sylvia, you made me think of more recent memories, so I’m going to fast forward 30 years or so into the 1990's.

I heard on local radio that Gene was coming to the Corn Exchange in Cambridge - I hadn’t seen Gene for about 30 years - too busy with marriage, bringing up the children, working - the usual things. I just had to go. I got a letter off to Gene that hopefully he would pick up as soon as he arrived at the theatre, telling him that I was coming to see the show and reminding him of those far off days and enclosing copies of the photos I’d taken of him all those years ago, and bringing him up to date with my life. But when I rang the theatre I was told that there were hardly any seats left, there were a few seats available for Thursday. The problem was, I had a rather important meeting Thursday evening - one that I dare not miss, a VIP was going to be there and I was expected to attend (hee hee - this is a story in itself lol!) Then I got a reply from Gene asking me to send some recent photos of myself and my family and to let him know which show I would be attending. My friend told me to skip the meeting and go to see Gene - so I had to be really, really ill - couldn’t possibly attend lol! When I rang the theatre again, I was told that the only seats left were ‘restricted viewing’, I said I’d take whatever they had. In the meantime, I sent Gene a recent photo of me and my family, and said I’d be there Thursday evening.

Our seats turned out to be right up in the ‘gods’ and behind a pillar - at least one of them was. We decided that one of us would sit behind the pillar during the first half of the show then change seats for the second half. It was great to see Gene singing on stage again, and see such a full theatre - Gene still had the fans eating out of his hand! I saw the first half of the show then moved behind the pillar so that my friend could see the second half - this was the bit where he read out letters and sang requests. He’d also added a new bit - now he was handing out presents and bouquets to the ladies in the audience - all sat in the first few front rows It had become obvious from the banter between Gene and the audience that a large group of his fans followed him around and block booked all the best seats at the front of the stage. Husbands were asking Gene to present wives with bouquets for birthdays, wedding anniversaries etc. At one point, Gene put his hand in his pocket and drew out something that he kept hidden in the palm of his hand, he mentioned a lady?s name and asked her to come to the front of the stage as he had a present to give her from her husband. He handed her a key, telling her that the present was a brand new car!

Then he started to read out letters he?d received - as soon as I heard him say " There?s someone out in the audience tonight who I haven?t seen for a very long time......" My heart began to beat so loudly I thought the whole audience could hear it. Gene went on to tell everyone about our days at Stratters and I prayed he wouldn?t go on about my attempt to dress up as a student to fool him - it had been such a sad attempt, I still cringed at the memory of it. Fortunately he didn?t, but he did want to know where I was seated in the theatre - I stayed hidden behind the pillar, but he shaded his eyes, looking at every part of the audience asking again for me to make myself known, at that point my friend waved his arms around to get Gene?s attention and yelled "she?s here!" Of course everyone turned round to look at us - I mean how embarrassing is that? Well - it was going to get a heck of a lot more embarrassing! Gene insisted that I came down to the stage to see him, he said he had something for me. It was an awful long way down to that stage, but I didn?t have a lot of choice, the usherette came to the end of the row and I had to get up and squeeze past all the others on my row before making the descent down two flights of stairs - there was an usherette at the top of each one to show me the way down, then another one at the back of the theatre motioning me to take that long walk through the auditorium to the stage, walking down that slope in high heels with my knees like jelly was difficult enough, but apparently I wasn?t make the journey fast enough as the drummer started to play a brisk march in an attempt to get me to quicken my steps lol!

Gene beckoned me up onto the stage, he told me I hadn?t changed a bit - yeah right! I was now in my fifties and he hadn?t seen me since I was in my twenties! I couldn?t be sure that he really remembered me, after all, he must have met a million trillion girls from all over the world in the last 30 years - I was just one of them. He gave me a kiss on both cheeks then motioned for me to do the same, he gave me a quick hug and whispered " Just like old times eh?" I had to concede that perhaps he DID remember me after all, maybe the photos had triggered a few distant memories. He returned the photographs to me, asking if I would send him copies, these were copies, but never mind, it was a reason to write to him again ;-)

The local newspaper got wind of this incident and came to interview me lol! It turned out that the mother of the young reporter was a big Gene Pitney fan, and wanted to know all I knew about him!

Then more recently, someone I knew was involved in a nostalgia radio show for BBC Radio, and he asked me if I was still in touch with any of the pop stars* from the old days as he wanted them to be interviewed for this program. I found Gene via his website and he agreed immediately to take part. His friend Dave, who ran the website was interested in how I knew Gene, and I gave him a brief run down and emailed the photos I?d promised to send Gene a few years earlier. "My, what a cute couple you make" was his response, after he?d received them lol!

A while ago, I saw in my monthly magazine that they were looking for stories about kindly deeds by famous people, I immediately thought about Gene and his kindness to those three young fans. I wrote to the magazine with my story and sent the photo I?d taken of Gene at my switchboard. I didn?t hear anymore and forgot all about it, until one day, about a year later, I was flicking through the magazine when suddenly I saw this very familiar photograph - they had finally got around to printing my story!

*I I decided to try to track down Craig Douglas for this programme, but couldn?t find anything on the web that might lead me to him. The next person who I thought might be willing to take part was Dave Berry (Little Things, The Crying Game) who was from my home town and who I knew very well, I?d started his first fan club for him. We had met up again when he too, had come to do a gig nearby, after a break of far too many years, and had stayed in touch, so I was able to contact him without any trouble, he was also able to tell me how to get in touch with Craig. It took a few missed phone calls, but eventually I found a message from Craig on my answer phone, it was really great talking to him after all these years, and he too, was happy to take part in the radio programme - job done lol!

Messing around with photos

My scanner has been out of commission for so long that now I'm working overtime on it - I'd quite forgotten what fun uploading and editing photos can be.  So here's some I've been playing around with.

Freda

A Strange Romance lol!

On one of Gene’s visits to Stratters, he brought a young friend with him. Francis was on sabbatical from his studies as a psychiatrist, and came from Gene’s home town. It must have been quite a holiday for this quiet, bespectacled young man, touring with Gene. As he was a friend of Gene’s, I would smile politely and say hello whenever I saw him, but he kept very much in the back ground, whenever Gene came in the switch room to say hello/goodbye and give me a friendly kiss on the cheek, Francis would wait outside. He came and went quietly, and to be honest, I barely noticed him. Except that Gene would use him to wind me up, they had rooms next to each other, but were forever in each other’s rooms and were determined that I shouldn’t know which one of them I was speaking to - between them, they had me tied up in knots!

Gene invited me to one of his shows just outside of London and the three of us travelled down together. It was rather nice being sandwiched between these two nice young men, I found that Francis had the same cookie humour as Gene and we got to know each other a lot better on that short journey. Francis and I watched the show from the side of the stage, we stood companionably in the wings, enjoying the feel-good factor that Gene always generated in his audience. Gene came to join us in his dressing room during the interval before leaving us alone together, to go and sign autographs. I was wearing a woollen coat that I’d knitted myself, and Francis said how much he liked it, he said other nice things too before Gene came back. Francis told Gene that I’d knitted my coat and immediately he asked if I’d knit him a sweater! Francis looked a bit put out - "Aw, I was going to ask her that" he complained..

We went back to the wings to watch Gene in the second half of the show, after a while I realised that Francis seemed to be standing very, very close to me - you might say ‘invading my air space’. I turned to look at him and found him staring down at me - he wasn’t wearing the ‘Michael Caine’ horn-rimmed specs and as I gazed up at him, realised that he was actually quite a handsome guy and then something very strange happened - I felt my heart pounding like a drum, it was one of those ‘sudden realisation’ moments, we stood like that for a while, until we realised that Gene was coming off stage. Francis held my arm tightly as we made our way back to the dressing room. Gene must have felt the electricity crackling between us because hetook one look at us and decided he was going to sign a few more autographs. Francis and I used the opportunity to - er hum - get to know each other a bit better ;-)

Francis held my hand very tightly on the way back to London, and Gene was holding the other one, but in much more casual manner lol! They dropped me off at Ashley Court, Gene gave me a friendly kiss goodnight, but Francis got out of the car and walked me to the door of Ashley Court and gave me a passionate goodnight kiss. I went to bed that night feeling rather baffled by this unforeseen turn of events. I was on the late shift the next day, and hadn?t been in the switchroom long before Francis popped his head round the door, seeing that I was alone, he came in and shut the door. He sat on the chair next to me, with a look on his face that was asking had last night really happened? He kissed me - just to check, I think, then feeling more confident, kissed me again. He said it was such a shame that we had only got together now as Gene?s tour of the UK was at an end and they were both about to go back home, but he asked me if I would go with them to the airport to see them off.

On the day they were due to depart I met them at the hotel, there was also another young lady there who was going to drive us all to the airport, I thought I detected a slight sense of surprise when she saw that I was included in the party. Gene introduced us, telling me that she was the wife of Gerry Bron, his record producer (Gerry Bron was also the brother of actress Eleanor Bron). I wished that Francis and I could have spent a little time alone, but it wasn?t going to happen. When it was time to catch their flight, Gene gave me a big hug and a kiss, then led Mrs Bron away so as to give Francis and I just a small moment in which to say goodbye - bearing in mind that the others were only a few feet away lol! - we gave each other a big hug and a nice long kiss, Francis made me promise to write to him, saying he?d write as soon as he got home.

On the journey back from the airport, Mrs. Bron asked me how well I knew the boys, I told her that I?d known Gene for a while but I had only just met Francis. She told me not to get too attached to either of them as they were both in steady relationships and Gene was even on the point of getting engaged. This information didn?t bother me too much, I doubted I would ever see Francis again - it had to have been the quickest flash in the pan ?romance? on record! I re-assured her that we were just friends. And I was happy to be just be friends with Gene, admittedly we had a touchy-feely relationship, but Gene?s girlfriend had no reason for concern!

In fact I was the one who wrote as soon as I got home - and Francis replied quite quickly, I enjoyed his letters, they showed a different side to the quiet young man I?d barely got to know. He wrote in a confident, amusing style, and I wished I?d been able to get to know that side of him. Inevitably of course, our letters became few and far between until they dried up altogether, but I still saw Gene when he came to England and I would ask him to remember me to Francis if he should see him again, as he was now back at University.

But Gene?s friends weren?t always so nice - I always found it odd that he should be such good friends with the Rolling Stones when their attitude was in complete contrast to Gene?s....

Next ....The Rolling Stones and a strange metamorphosis........

Gene's Amazing Generosity

As I have already mentioned, Gene always had time for his fans - if anyone has ever been to one his concerts - you’ll know what I mean. His concerts are like a private party for friends - there is such a rapport between Gene and the audience. Some fans will travel from town to town, trying to attend as many of his concerts as possible. There is a genuine admiration and respect for Gene, and as I got to know him, I could understand why.

I never could understand why celebs stayed at Stratters, it was large and ideally located on Oxford Street, but hardly the last word in luxury. Gene was a millionaire and could afford to stay at the best hotels and yet he chose Stratters, and for the most part, even stayed in the smallest room - the one we kept in reserve for staff who had to stay overnight. Gene had a permanent booking at Stratters, and no matter how busy London might be - there were occasions when every hotel in London would be filled to the rafters, but there would always be a room for Gene at Stratters - even if it was the smallest lol! Eventually I discovered that Stratters had a contract with The Frankly Boyd Agency, a show biz Agency that made all the arrangement for visiting celebs. So it wasn’t really a case of any of them choosing to stay at Stratters, they were booked in there by the Agency, of course they could leave if they didn’t like it - but Gene just happened to like staying here. He was basically just an ordinary guy - so an ordinary hotel just suited him fine.

Amongst the other celebs who stayed at Stratters were film star Dean Stockwell - nice but slightly weird lol! American pop singer Johnny Thunder - lovely guy, The Rolling Stones - more of them later >:( grrrrr. As already mentioned - the gorgeously yummy Richard Beymer, Freddy Cannon - American pop star and Wes Farrell - song writer, Wes was a great looking guy and really nice, Freddie was a loud mouthed big head - the absolute antithesis to Gene, Little Richard - lovely well-mannered guy. Johnny Burnette - American pop singer, David Whitfield- famous UK singer of the 50's, Ketty Lester (her classic hit ‘Lover Letters Straight From the Heart’ always a great favourite of mine), Big Dee Irwin, Del Shannon. And when I first went to work at Stratters - almost all the contestants for the Eurovision Song Contest, which was being held in GB that year. There would be a constant stream of others popping in to see whichever celeb was staying at Stratters. Craig told me that he?d popped in to see Freddie Cannon in the early hours of the morning (best time to miss me Craig lol!) And apparently Mike Hurst DID pop in to see Gene, but not whilst I was on duty - we never did meet up again.

What could have been the ground floor frontage on Oxford Street to Stratters, was, in fact, taken up by Dolcis shoe shop, the entrance to the hotel was down a narrow side street, so I often wondered how the fans ever found it, or indeed, how they found out that Gene was in town, as he often came privately on business. But no sooner was he in town than fans would gather outside the hotel, hoping to catch him as he came and went. On one occasion, three young fans turned up one weekend, but Gene was away for the day, the fans came and went throughout the day, as no one could be sure when he would be back. When the weather turned bad, Mitch, the Head Porter, invited them to sit in the hotel, but as soon as it cleared up, they were shoo-ed out again. Gene finally arrived back at midnight, and the fans were still there! I?d left a note for Gene telling him about them and asking if he would leave signed photos that I could pass on, assuming they would be back the next day. The nightporter told Gene that the fans had been waiting for him all day, so Gene had them put up in the hotel for the night - at his own expense, and made sure they had everything they needed.

I heard all about this when I came in to work the next morning. Gene came to see me later and told me that he had arranged for the three to see his concert that evening, and would I ?chaperone? them. I was delighted to do this, I was touched by how overwhelmed the three fans were by it all and was pleased to act as ?mother? lol!

We travelled by coach down to the theatre and went back stage to see Gene in his dressing room. The fans were taken to seats right in front of the stage and I watched the show from the wings, where I was also able to keep an eye on them. It was the first Gene Pitney Concert I had been to, and it was quite a revelation. In between singing, Gene would sit on a high stool in the middle of the stage and read out letters he?d been sent by the fans, there would be squeaks of joy as the name of someone in the audience was mentioned. He?d ask them to identify themselves, then he?d speak directly to that person. There?d be a question and answer session and he?d also sing requests. Gene genuinely held his fans in great regard.

During the interval we all chatted in Gene?s dressing room, and the three fans came round to see him after the show. Then we all caught the coach back to London, the thee fans clutching large signed photographs of Gene, and taking home wonderful memories of their favourite pop star. A Star indeed, Gene. Mwah!

http://www.gene-pitney.com/music.html

Info on Gene Pitney

Gene Pitney was born on 17th February 1941 (his 64th birthday is next Thursday!)

He wrote his first recording "I Wanna Love My Life away" which entered the US Top Forty.

He has also written other artist’s biggest hits:-

The Christals - He’s A Rebel

Bobby Vee’s - Rubber Ball

Ricky Nelson’s Hello Mary Lou

He is remembered mostly for his recording of Twenty Four Hours From Tulsa, perhaps because it was his first UK Top Ten hit.

But other singles which reached higher placings in the UK Charts are:

I’m Gonna Be Strong - 1964 - No. 2

Looking Through the Eyes of Love - 1965 - No.3

Backstage - 1966 - No. 4

Nobody Need Your Love - 1966 - No. 2

He has had 5 million selling singles worldwide.

Url to Gene’s website where you can listen to all of his music

http://www.gene-pitney.com/music.html

The Way We Were - Gene Pitney

 

I’m so glad to have found some fellow Gene Pitney fans, as after telling you how I first met him, all kinds of great memories have come flooding back which I would love to share with you.

Gene had a really wacky sense of humour, and there was never a dull moment when he was staying at Stratters. He loved those silly ‘electric plumb’ jokes that circulated during the Sixties - unfortunately I can’t remember any, so if anyone else can - I’d love to hear them again. Gene’s way of telling a joke cracked me up as much as the joke itself. He’d start out by saying "Freda, I wonder if you could tell me something?" " Yes?" I’d respond, all eager to be able to help him in some way, " How can you tell when there’s been an elephant in the fridge?" barely stifled laughter as his question sinks in. " I don’t know Gene, how CAN you tell when there’s been an elephant in the fridge?" " He left his footprints in the butter - ba boom!" Oh yes, the old ones are the best - but these silly jokes were quite new then, and it was great to get a reaction from someone who’d never heard them before - and Gene professed to know ‘em all - so began the search to find a joke he didn’t know. Gene also loved to play tricks on me, for instance, he would ring in from outside the hotel and, disguising his voice, ask to speak to Gene Pitney, when I’d say he was out and could I take a message, he’d proceed to give me this long and convoluted message that didn’t make any sense, then, speaking in his normal voice, he’d say " Now you will make sure I get that message, won’t you Freda!" He got one over on me so many times that finally I decided it was major payback time, and I enlisted my friend Jenny to come up with something really good.

I made quite a few new friends, thanks to Gene. There was one young man called Dennis, who came to interview Gene for his local newspaper, Dennis was on the fringe of the entertainment world, in that he was Entertainments Officer for Lewisham Town Hall, part-time DJ and wrote a music column for a local paper. We spoke several times on the phone when he rang Gene, then one day he came in to see Gene and popped his head round the door of the switchroom to say hello. We became good friends after that, and sometimes went out socially - well, you can’t turn down an invite to the Lord Mayor’s Ball, can you? Anyway, I told Dennis about our plan to play a prank on Gene, and he wanted to be part of it, which turned out to be quite useful inthe circumstances, as Dennis was one of those rare young people who had a car. Knowing how accommodating Gene was with his fans - he never refused to see or speak to any of them who rang or waited outside the hotel for him, I knew he wouldn?t refuse to do an interview. Gene was in Oxford for a few days, so we arranged that Jenny should ring him at his hotel and ask if he would agree to give an interview to one of the students for their University Rag. Of course he agreed. The plan was for me to dress up as student lol - or at least our idea of how a university student might look - although I think we may have overdone it a tad :-/

Jenny?s brother lent me his duffle coat, which was about 2 sizes too big, Dennis came up with an outsize pair of dark glasses, which concealed most of my face - good , we thought. Jenny lent me her black leather ?John Lennon? cap (remember those?) to hide all my hair, but it wasn?t really capacious enough and it seemed to sit on top of my head, there was no way I could keep my long fringe inside it. Finally I wore my black leather boots and my shiny black ski pants. Originally, we?d hoped to disguise my gender, as Jenny had just said ?a student called ?Kim?, would be interviewing him, but that became too difficult. A rare sight I must have looked, so just as well Jenny and I didn?t have to go by train!

We couldn?t set out until Jenny and Dennis had finished work, and then it took ages to get there as we kept getting lost, we arrived at the theatre just as the show was ending. It didn?t seem as though there would be any chance of getting through the stagedoor, there were hoards of screaming fans blocking our way. Dennis, brave man, fought his way through and somehow managed to get in the stage door. As luck would have it, the ?roadie? for Gene?s show turned out to be an old school mate of Dennis?s, and he came out with Dennis to help fight our way through the fans. It was pretty nasty, I can tell you - giving birth? Pulling teeth? Sticking pins in my eyes? Far less scary than taking on Gene?s fans! Because I was dressed so strangely, the fans got the impression that I must be ?somebody?? and tried to snatch at my hat and glasses - I was never so grateful to get through the crack that the stage doorman allowed us to slip through. He slammed the door shut against the fans who hammered on it demanding to be let in too.

Stuart, the roadie, didn?t have a clue what was going on, he led us to Gene? dressing room and I heard him saying to Gene, "my mate Dennis has come to see you and he?s got a strange German bird with him". Strange German bird!!! Strange, perhaps, but German? Lol! I confess to feeling rather foolish standing there, in Gene?s dressing room, he was sitting down, but jumped up and came to peer at me, in an instant he?d whipped off my cap and glasses and declared that he?s known it was me a straight away - oh poo :-(

He said that I?d have to get up very early in the morning if I wanted to fool him - but didn?t think I?d ever succeed! For once Gene wasn?t going to sign autographs at the stage door - a wise decision - instead, we all went out of the main entrance of the theatre, just as if we were part of the audience, and walked down the street to Gene?s hotel which was close by. Only a few fans followed us and recognised Gene. We went into his hotel and thankfully the fans stayed outside. We sat in the enormous lounge, Mike Hurst of The Springfields, joined us, on the other side of the lounge sat Cilla Black and Billy J Kramer and the Dakotas. Gene called over to ?Chilla? as he called her, to come and join us but the group decided to stay on their side of the lounge. We had coffee and sandwiches and a jolly good laugh, both Gene and Mike said how much they liked my shiny black ski pants and wanted me to stand on the coffee table so that they could get a better view of them lol! Needless to say, I declined. It was 2.30 am before we finally said we had to go, poor Dennis had to drive all the way back and get up for work in the morning, as did Jenny - only I was going to get a lie-in. Mike and Gene came with us to where Dennis had parked the car, they both gave Jenny and I quite passionate kisses - Dennis had to do with a hand shake Lol! Mike said he would be popping into Stratters to see Gene and would pop in to see me too, and that perhaps we could go out some time. Well, Mike was tall, dark and handsome - why not?

next - Gene's amazing generosity