MARTIN’S MUSINGS
By Martin Dove
Growing up in Scarborough
in the sixties: 1961
As
Wellington, from The Perishers, once said to his faithful canine companion, “I don’t know how they do it, Boot, all for
half-a-crown!” he was, of course, referring to his diary, something which
prompted me to keep a daily record of my own life back in my school days,
something which I have continued to do, every day since for over fifty years! There
I was in 1961, a lad of 12 going on 13, enjoying music, TV, nature, going to
the cinema, playing games, reading, socialising with friends and family,
collecting stuff like matchbox covers, tea cards and coins, entering and
winning competitions, and gambling in the amusement arcades. Here I am, a
pensioner in 2015, enjoying pretty much the same things, although nowadays I am
getting rid of stuff that I collected, rather than collecting more, and my
gambling nowadays is done online, or at the bookies.
I was born
in Scarborough in 1948, and in 1961 lived with my parents, Lily and Les, and my
older brother Ray, in a terrace house on Gladstone Street. My eldest brother,
Barry, was married with two small children, and lived at Eastfield. My dad
worked at Wray’s bakery, which was then on the opposite side of the road, so my
dad didn’t have far to go to get to work. He always worked the night shift, so
he was always around during the day, and when I got home from school, which in
1961 was the Scarborough Boys High School, which is now Graham School.
My dad would
have been 50 in 1961, and as a treat to himself, he bought a scooter. My
parents never owned a car, and the scooter was a great way for my mum and dad
to go on little jaunts, and occasionally, I would climb on the back of the
scooter, fling my arms round my dad, and he would take me out for a spin. No
crash helmets in those days, of course, so I literally took my life in my hands
every time we went out on the road. He would often pick me up from school, and
sometimes we would take the scenic route home around the Marine Drive.
Gradually the trips got longer and we would visit Eastfield, Cayton, Cloughton
(for brambling), Snainton, and the Whitby Moors, and once we even went as far as
York, where we walked on the city walls, and visited the Railway Museum.
In those
days most women did not go out to work, as the men considered themselves as
breadwinners, while wives were mainly housewives, and children were seen and
not heard. However my mum managed to convince my dad that a little summer job
would be ok, and she got a job working in a Walls ice-cream kiosk on the sands.
There were three kiosks dotted along the beach and my mum worked in the one
nearest to the lifeboat house, opposite Pacittos. Walls ice-cream in those days
was not soft like today, the ice-cream came in a rectangular briquette, wrapped
in paper, which you had to unwrap yourself and fit it into the rectangular
shaped cornet.
I used to
spend most of the summer holidays down on the beach in those days, and my mum
gave me a sieve which I would fill with sand, and shake it till the sand fell
through the holes, and more often than not, I would end up with a penny or two
in the sieve. On a good day I would find a threepenny bit (3d), or a tanner
(6d), or even a bob (1/-)! Occasionally I would find glass bottles on the
beach, and I would get 3d back for returning the bottle, which could be reused.
This might not sound like much, but a pound in 1961 would be worth £15.56 in
2015, so as a child of 13, this made for a lucrative little side-line! Well it
might have done had I not developed a passion for gambling! As soon as I found
any money, I would cross the road to Alf’s amusements, or the Casino, and spend
it on the slot machines such as Prospector, Fiesta, Arctic Hunt, and Rotomint. In later years I discovered flipper machines,
and became really good at them, often winning a prize for best score of the
day.
When the
Dutch festival came to Scarborough in June, I had the best seat in the house,
as I would scramble onto the roof of my mums kiosk, and cheer loudly as the
parade went by.
I rarely
ventured too far from the kiosk, but I sometimes went to the Olympia, where
they had the most amazing display of dancing waters, which sadly disappeared
many years ago.
When I
wasn’t on the beach, I was either jaunting off with my dad on his scooter, or
even going out with my older brother. Ray was 18 at the time, and a grown up,
so going anywhere with Ray was a real treat.
On rare
occasions I went to Scarborough Mere, where, we played on the putting green,
and went out on the rowing boats, all of which have now vanished over the
years.
Sometimes my
mum would take me to the cinema, and I can remember seeing Elvis in GI Blues at the old Odeon cinema, (now
the SJT), and Watch your stern at the
Capitol cinema, (now Mecca Bingo).
Every Easter
we had a family tradition of going to Charm Park races, near Wykeham, and in
1961 I lost 2/6d betting, spent 1/- there and back on a bus, and spent 1/10d on
sweets, crisps and ice-cream. Happy days!
One of the
highlights of 1961 was going to Butlins at Filey with my mate Curto. We paid
5/- each for a day pass, and had a marvellous time going on all the fairground
rides, although we were disappointed to find we weren’t allowed to play snooker
or mini golf as we were not residents. I also loved Scarborough Fair as a kid,
and would try to save enough money over the year, so that I could go on as many
rides as possible. Me, Curto and Spud went on the Shamrock, the Waltzers, the
Octopus, the Dodgems, the Motorbikes and the Jets. I don’t think the fair has
changed all that much over the years, the only difference being the price of a
ride. I went to the fair on all four days, had loads of rides, played loads of
games, and I only had £1, which lasted all week!
My favourite
pastime as a boy was playing games. I had friends round every week for a DEB
night. (Dove’s Entertainment Bureau). This all sounds very grand, but was, in
fact, just me and some mates playing board games, like Cluedo, Totopoly and
Risk. Regulars at my DEB nights included
Curto, Freebloke, and my cousin David. Curto was Tony Curtis, who still lives
in Scarborough, and I still see him from time to time, and Freebloke was John
Freeman, who sadly died at a young age. John lived above a wine merchant in the
high street, opposite Marks & Spencer, and I have very fond memories of
being warmly welcomed every time I visited him. The DEB nights were also broken
down into themed nights, and although I invented names such as listy nights, draughty
nights, humbug nights, normal nights, bookies nights, 5-2 nights, GONOT
nights, and I-Spy nights, with the passing of time I have completely forgotten
what each one involved!
As well as
playing games, I was fanatical about my collection of DC comics. I had a huge
collection, which included Superman, The Flash, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Green
Lantern, and my favourites, The Justice League of America (The JLA).
Unfortunately all of my comics were either given away, or thrown out in the
seventies. They would have been worth a fortune today! I was also passionate
about I-Spy books in my early teens, and had just about every one going.
Whenever I went out I was always on the lookout for something or other. I can
remember getting really excited about spotting a ring-head distribution pole on
Scalby Road once, which scored me twenty points in I-Spy number 9, and five
points in I-Spy number 38!
I was a
sickly kid growing up, always coming down with a chill, a cough, a cold, asthma
and bronchitis. In fact I spent a month in a convalescent hospital on Filey
Road when I was younger. My main memory of this is being force-fed Marmite
every day, and being asked if I had done my number twos! I was forever missing
school, and as a result my grades were pretty poor. I got bored easily, and
wanted to be the class clown, so I was always larking about. I got the nickname
“Daring Dickie Dove” at school, daring,
because I was a bit cheeky, and Dickie after Dickie Henderson, one of my
favourite TV presenters at the time.
I was
forever in trouble with teachers and prefects. My diary shows I once got 50
lines from a prefect and the ruler off Mr Whittall in the same day. Later in
the year I got 100 lines from a prefect, maybe the same one, I’m not really
sure. My first detention came for “loitering
to first sitting”, which presumably meant I wasn’t in a hurry to go for
lunch. All of this pales into insignificance next to Mr Oxo, who was a teacher
at Westwood, when I was a pupil there in 1960. He would chalk the word OXO on
the end of a long stick, which he would brandish to the class, and inform us that
anyone giving trouble would be punished with the OXO stick. Yours truly was
called out one day, after larking about, and told to turn away from my
classmates and bend over. He would then joyously whack me on the backside with
the stick, leaving a faint chalky outline of the word OXO on my behind for
everyone to see. Of course, everyone found this funny, so not only was I
thrashed, I was humiliated as well. I suspect Mr Oxo would be up on a charge
for such behaviour these days, but in the sixties, getting the cane, the
slipper, the ruler, a clip round the ear, or the OXO stick was just a regular
part of school life.
My grades
were nothing to get excited about either…
ART: 45%
HISTORY: 35%
GEOGRAPHY:
37%
ENGLISH: 40%
MATHS: 37%
SCIENCE: 56%
SCRIPTURE:
42%
With marks
like these, who would have thought that I would go on to be a writer, a college
lecturer, a supply teacher, and an exams moderator!
I was once
sick in school assembly, and after being taken to the headmaster’s office, I
was eventually taken home by Mr Perry.
My mum took
no chances with my bad health, and having being caught in a torrential downpour
coming home from school one day, my mum kept me off school the following day because
my jacket was too wet! I wonder if kids today still get away with that excuse.
Taking part
in sports at school for me was a nightmare, and if I could get out of it I
would. I regularly brought notes from my mum saying I was too poorly to run
around on a football field, and was allowed to study in the library instead,
which was a great result for me. However some teachers just tore up my note,
thinking I’d written it myself, and made me go out anyway! Once in April Curto
and I had to do cross country running, and of course we got hopelessly lost,
and not only finished last, we were so late everyone had already gone on to
their next lesson! We had to play Rugby, which I hated, and in warmer months,
Athletics, which included relay races, Danish long ball, throwing the javelin
and the discus, all of which I was hopeless at.
Party-going
was more my thing, and in January I went to Wray’s Christmas party, where my
dad often dressed up as Santa Claus. My parents were keen members of both the working
men’s club, and Plaxton’s social club too, and as a result I got to go to all
their children’s events as well. The highlight in 1961 was the Plaxton’s party,
where I saw a guy called Steve McCoy, who dressed as a cowboy. I was also given
some fruit and half a crowns worth of sweets. I also went on a Plaxton’s trip
to Glaisdale in the summer, where I was given sweets, chocolate and free
ice-cream. For my 13th
birthday in February, Tony and John came round, and my presents included Dairy
Box chocolates, a scarf, a Jaffa orange, and my mum offered to get my watch
mended. Later in the week I reported that “mum
wouldn’t pay for watch being mended, so it’ still bust!” For Tony’s birthday, I went to his house to
play games, and won a 6d medley bag. For John’s birthday I went to his party,
where we had a balloon cake.
My granddad,
who was affectionately known as Wally, was a colourful character. He served in
both world wars, and he was wounded during the 1914-1918 War at the Battle of
Ypres. He worked as a horse drawn hackney carriage driver, a juggler, a goal-keeper
for the Scarborough Penguins FC. He was also a one time champion billiards
player, and a rag and bone man. Sadly one of his horses was killed in the 1914
Scarborough bombardment. I remember him best though as a bookies runner, where
he would take bets from people in pubs and clubs, on behalf of the local layer,
and then return the following day with their winnings. Of course up until 1961,
there were no bookmakers in the high street like today; betting was only
allowed either on course, or on the telephone. That law changed in 1961, but I
suspect that Evod, as he was known to
the betting fraternity, found a way around that, and carried on for a little
while longer. Bookies in 1961 were dingy places full of dodgy characters.
Everyone smoked so the tiny windowless back street rooms were full of smoke,
and the floor would be a mess of fag ends and crumpled betting slips. All bets
were shouted to the bookie, who would write them down, and hand you a slip of
paper. If your bet won, the bookie would work out your winnings in his head,
there were no computers in those days! There was no racing on TV either; there
was just a tannoy, like an old wireless which gave a really crackly commentary,
which you could barely hear over the din in the room. Odds were chalked up on
to the wall by a board man, who seemed to know all the odds of every horse at
every meeting at every racecourse.
I know I was
too young to enter these bookies, but I would often stand inside the doorway,
while my mum or dad would pop in to put their bets on.
I always had
a bet on the Grand National, which my mum would put on for me, and my two
selections were Wily Oriental, which fell at the seventh fence, and Team
Spirit, which finished unplaced.
Wally’s
wife, Rose, my granny sadly died on August 4th 1961. She gave birth
to 11 children, (my father was the third born, the same as me), and worked as a
midwife, and a layer-out, long before the NHS was created. (A layer-out was
someone who prepared a body for burial). “Call
for Mrs Dove” was a common cry in those days!
Famous and
historic events from 1961
First man
journeys into outer space.
Monarch -
Elizabeth II
Prime Minister -
Harold Macmillan (Conservative)
Martin Dove
January/2015
Coming soon…1962.
Martin finds a job.
Martin has his first
crush, which ends in tears!
Martin gets his first
guitar.
Martin goes to
Newcastle, but can’t understand the lingo!
