Open Writing

Now that I was going to dances, I decided that it was time I purchased my first new suit. This involved some hard saving just to get the deposit. After making sure I had the resources necessary for the weekly payments, I made a visit to the large well-known tailors in the town. I had heard that once inside, customers had very little hope of coming out without ordering a made-to-measure suit.

I took the risk and entered. It was like entering a large Victorian hall with an enormous table in the middle with rolls of cloth stored in square holes around the perimeter. Several well-dressed salesmen with tape measures around their necks, patrolled set parts of the room.

After establishing that I was a serious customer, one salesman attacked me with a tape measure to determine my vital statistics. Another flipped through a book with endless samples of cloth, without mentioning the price, but promising me a perfect fitting suit in three or four weeks time. After failing to be persuaded of the virtues of made to measure tailoring, I unwittingly mentioned those three unpopular words, 'ready-to-wear'.

It was as if a bomb had dropped and I was given a look of disapproval by all the salesmen. One of them eventually gave me directions to the well-kept secret - the location of the ready-to-wear-department. In truth, I found this popular tailor much too expensive, and I purchased my first suit from a much smaller tailor further along King Street.

Competing with dance halls for our presence on a Saturday night, were the many cinemas of the town. The last complete performance usually commenced about 7.30 p.m. and if entry was to be guaranteed, this meant being in the queue about an hour earlier. For many people like myself who played football on a Saturday afternoon, this was extremely difficult as matches did not finish until about 4.40 p.m. at the start and end of the season.

The hectic rush and long wait was usually worth it because the early to mid nineteen fifties was the 'golden age of the cinema'. Excellent British war films such as 'Reach for the Sky', 'Dam Busters', and 'Bridge over the River Kwai', filled the cinemas. In later years popular American musicals such as the 'Glen Miller Story', 'South Pacific', and 'Singing in the Rain' made the cinema-goers' choice even more difficult.

My personal favourite was the singer Doris Day; I saw most of her films.

I also recall the birth of the new wide Cinemascope screen in 1953. On another occasion I recall going to the Savoy one night and being handed a pair of plastic spectacles at the entrance. This was to view an experimental 3D film, which for many reasons did not 'catch on'.

At the end of the evening's film, most people in the audience would stand for a few minutes while 'God save the Queen' was played, then there was a mad rush for the exits to get in the queue for the last bus home.

The bus was always grossly overpacked as the bars, cinemas and dance halls emptied onto the streets. Few conductors would venture upstairs to collect fares as drunks sang, smokers smoked, and some youngsters enjoyed their fish and chip suppers. On the last Stanhope Road bus, the conductor would shout, "First stop Chichester" and woe-betide anybody who wanted to get off before that, as the bus raced up Westoe and down Dean Road.

On another occasion, a good-natured conductor made the mistake of getting off the bus to let the crowds get on. Somebody then mischievously rang the starting bell and an embarrassed conductor could be seen chasing his bus along Ocean Road until the driver realized what had happened.

In April 1956, my five-year apprenticeship at Reyrolles was complete and my indentures were signed. I was also deferred from call-up for National Service until the completion of my studies two months later. Therefore the summer of 1956, was a busy time as I applied myself to my exams and prepared for two years serving the Queen.

An important letter arrived in late August. It was not my call up papers but a letter from the Tech, telling me that I had failed the mathematics element in the final year of my O.N.C. Mechanical Engineering course.

I was furious, as I was confident I had done enough to pass. The grouped examination system meant that I had passed Mechanics and Heat Engines three times, but failed to combine it with a success in mathematics. The result was after six years of study, no final certificate. There was nothing I could do about it except perhaps forget about exams until after national service.

Looking back on my five year apprenticeship at Reyrolles through a modern pair of spectacles, it left a great deal to be desired. Apart from the three months in the Apprentice Training School and perhaps another similar period in the Drawing Office School, little instruction took place. If an apprentice wanted to learn, it was up to him to ask questions. The trouble was not many apprentices asked questions, and even fewer fitters gave satisfactory answers.

There was only one formal appraisal interview during the five years. For many of my colleagues, this was too little, too late. It was compulsory to attend evening classes, yet there was little guidance about choosing a suitable course. Finally, there was a tremendous wastage between the number of apprentices who started training, and the number who proceeded to the engineering or contracts departments. This was mostly due to high piece-work earnings that could be earned in the factory and the relatively low wages in the offices.

In spite of the above, most of the local community in the 1950's, viewed an apprenticeship at Reyrolles as a very valuable asset. It was to me. It provided a varied framework of education, training and experience whichI was to use as a stepping stone for career development in future years.
Perhaps more important, after my rather sheltered upbringing, it facilitated the opportunity for my personal development and growth, by introducing me to the wider industrial world.

Alan Wright's "A Centenary History of A.Reyrolle and Co Ltd, 1901-2001" is a magnificent record of the company's growth and technical achievements. Perhaps now what is required, before the many and varied memories are lost for good, is an informal 'Workers' Oral History' of the firm that was the main employer of labour on South Tyneside, during the twentieth century.