Open Writing

After organising competitions, I was soon elected Club Treasurer. This position involved collecting the weekly subscriptions, producing an end of year balance sheet, and making a verbal financial report to the Church's Annual Meeting. I recall going to the library to borrow a book on balance sheets and the Rev teasing me about having to stand up and speak in public for the first time.

It was also at the Youth Club that I made my one and only attempt at amateur dramatics. The club rather ambitiously attempted a one-act play and somehow I was terribly mis-cast as a burglar! One of my lines was, "Blimey, have I broken into a kindergarten?" After hearing my diction and observing my acting ability, the Director, Brenda Russell, quickly transferred me to being in charge of the props.

A year or so later, I was elected to be the Club's representative on the town's Council of Youth. This was a monthly meeting of representatives from all youth organisations in the town. It was chaired by Percy K Hudson, the town's Youth Organiser.

Gateshead-born P.K. left employment with a local shipyard in 1941 to come to Shields in order to co-ordinate the town's wartime Youth Service. He made such a success of the job during and after the war, that when he retired in 1964, a new Youth Club at Biddick Hall was named after him.

The meeting was held in P.K's office at 144 Fowler Street. It was the first official external meeting I had ever attended and it was a great learning experience for a working-class fifteen-year-old. I was by far the youngest person there. The event was dominated by representatives from the larger clubs with part-time paid leaders.

I recall the meeting however, for a rather embarrassing situation. One member of the committee was the assistant at the Magistrate's Court where my mother collected my father's maintenance money. I had often accompanied her and he recognised me. He gave me such a look as if to say, "How did you manage to creep in here?"

Christmas was also an extremely busy time at St Andrew's Church. Those were the days before commercialism when Christmas celebrations and shopping did not start until about two weeks before the special day. As a result, the parties of all the organisations connected with the church were crammed into the ten days before Christmas. There was a party practically every night. At a time of continued food shortage, tickets for such events usually had B.Y.O.G. on the bottom. This meant, "Bring Your Own Grub".

During the late 1940's, St Andrew's Church played an increasingly important role in my life. I became a full communicant member of the Church in 1950 and a Sunday School teacher shortly afterwards. I was at a very impressionable age and even thought of training to be a minister. I had a long talk with the Rev, but he told me to wait until I was much older before thinking about anything like that.

Many children start going to church as a result of their parents attending a particular institution. It was the other way around with me. My mother started going to St Andrew's Church after meeting the Rev at a B B event held at the Drill Hall at Westoe in 1950.

The Rev was also minister of St Margaret's Church in Prince Edward Road. He and his family lived in a jointly owned Church Manse in Harton Lane. When St Margaret's obtained their own minister in 1952, the Rev moved to another house, only a few doors away. He asked members of the church not to be alarmed if they saw an unusual procession of people carrying furniture and a variety of household goods along Harton Lane.

Amazingly, the B B was also responsible for the development of my sexual knowledge. In an age before sex education at school, apart from schoolyard talk, and with little or no equivalent in most homes, the Rev attempted to fill this important void.

He asked all members of the company over 13 years of age, to stay behind one night for what he described as a 'short talk'. This consisted of a fatherly, informal chat about the facts of life, moral standards and the church's philosophy on such matters. It was all completely new to most of us.

It just so happened that a film entitled "The Birth of a Baby" was on at the Gaumont cinema the following week. Looking back, this was more than a coincidence, and I'm sure the Rev planned the timing of his informal chat to lead to this film, knowing we would all be keen to see it. He was right!

Although it was a fifteen plus film, with my build, I managed to get in without any problems. Once I got inside I got the shock of my life - not from the film, but from the audience! Looking down the stalls I saw row upon row of embarrassed young teenagers crouched in their seats, trying to hide until the lights went out. Once the lights had been lowered, there was a mass entry of those who had been hiding in the toilets and had the sense not to go in before the film started. So much for sex education in the late nineteen forties!