Stars Fell on Stockton by Brian K. Ashcroft

Author:Brian K. Ashcroft [Ashcroft, Brian K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781786233158
Publisher: Grosvenor House Publishing
Published: 2018-07-16T21:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 9

OUT OF THE SHADOWS

We shivered in the back of our Standard Atlas van as Roy’s father, Jack, drove us to gigs from North Yorkshire to Tyneside in the early months of 1963. Drifts of hard packed, grey snow pushed back by snow ploughs on each side of narrow lanes often towered over the van as we drove into places such as Spennymoor, Northallerton and Catterick to play the local working men’s club, pub or NAAFI102. The winter of 1963 was colder than the winter of 1947, when I came into this world, and in fact the coldest winter in England since 1740103. At times temperatures dropped below -20 degrees centigrade. Like the children we still were, we delighted in the first snows as the blizzards swept in from the north at Christmas. Little did we know that in large parts of the northeast the snows would remain until March. The cold weather accentuated the difference between our band life on the US bases in France and life at my parents’ home in Billingham. All the rooms in the buildings on the bases were super-heated. But at 17 Matlock Gardens, the only heating was the coal fire in the living room. On nights when the band wasn’t playing my mother and I huddled close to the coal fire, curtains drawn, eating our supper and watching Thank Your Lucky Stars, Z-Cars and the Avengers, my favourites, or Songs of Praise, Emergency -Ward 10 and Coronation Street, my mother’s, on the flickering TV set, while my dad, as ever, enjoyed the warmth of the Kings Arms.

My mother remained a staunch fan of the band as we soon found out when we arrived back in Billingham. We were met off the Boulogne channel ferry at Dover by Jack, keen to show us our new - to us - van: the Standard Atlas. With the gear hand-carried off the boat and stowed in the van, we all squeezed in the back with Roy and Jenny up front. Off we drove to drop Jenny off in London and then up the A1 to Darlington, dropping off Max and his girlfriend, then to Stockton and home.

After a warm greeting from my parents and real feelings of relief on my part that I was home at last, my mother broke the news. She had organised a “Welcome Home Party”, with properly printed invitations for the coming Thursday evening the 6th December. More than 150 invitations had been sent out and she had received nearly 100 acceptances, so she hoped that we would be able to play at the event, which was four days hence! Needless to say after gratitude came consternation: Jenny was in London, Max in Darlington and I had no idea what plans Roy and Johnny had. A panic ‘phone call to Roy soon followed who was more sanguine since my mother had kept his parents informed about what she was doing and they had already briefed him.

So, four days later the band, minus Jenny,

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