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One of the
advantages of having the
Internet is that now
radio from around the
world is available at all
times and with good
reception. No longer does
one have to suffer the
interference that came
with short wave reception.
Living, as I do, in the
U.S., radio is no longer
of a high standard. Most radio
stations play endless
music or else allow their
audience to give their
opinions about anything
of interest to them.
Other stations that
require monitory
participation pretend to
cater to the intelligencia
of the society, yet
are just as dull and
dismal as those stations
where mindless
entertainment is offered.
Now, thanks to the
Internet, I am able to
hear B.B.C. Radio
once more. I can hear The
Archers again, should
I wish, hear real news
in depth and not just
headlines and get
details by listening to From
Our Own Correspondent amongst
other programmes.
At
present, while I type
this story I am enjoying
an episode of Paul
Temple, who along
with his wife Steve and
their domestique,
Charlie attempt to
unravel a mystery
perpetrated by a dastardly
cunning villain.
Although the programme is
dated and the dialogue is
stilted, and
despite the principals,
now being played by
different actors, it is
still of interest and
immensely entertaining to
me. Sitting here and
listening to the episode
reminded me of the radio
of my childhood when cliffhangers
were so dramatic
and caused the listener
to wait with great
impatience for the
following week’s
episode. My mother loved Paul
Temple and would sit
and listen spellbound
each week as the plot
thickened and then
began to clear. Prior to
the beginning of the
programme, I would be
instructed to be silent
during the emission. I
must admit that this
never proved difficult
since I was equally
spellbound by the
mystery, and besides, I
liked the introductory
music
very much.
Radio
was different from today
back in the 1950’s.
The B.B.C. had the
monopoly as there was no commercial
radio in those days.
Radio was not presented 24
hours a day, seven days a
week. Local radio did
not exist as yet, but the
Home Service presented
regional transmissions
following The News
in order to present
news of a more regional
and local interest.
Scotland and Wales did
get their own
programming at times,
as it was put by the
announcer, which
generally meant special
musical presentations.
Radios
were huge by today’s
standards and had to be tuned
with care and needed
to be re-tuned periodically
as the reception tended
to drift with
time. Once gramophone
records became readily
available, various
companies began to sell a
new appliance, which was
a combination of a radio
and a record
player, which was
colloquially known as a radiogram.
My mother bought one
of these radiograms in
the early 1950’s and
had it installed in our parlour,
as sitting rooms were
called in those days. My
father ran a wire through
the floorboards and down
into the pie
‘n’ mash shop below
and connected it to a
speaker so that they
could listen either to
the radio or to their
records during work
hours. The customers
always enjoyed this. On
Friday and Saturdays
nights, when sing-a-long
tunes were being
played on the Light
Programme, it
wouldn’t take them
long before everyone in
the shop had joined in
and a spontaneous community-sing-song
would soon be in full
swing, which I would hear
laying in my bed.
As my
parents had to open the
shop between 6.30 and
7.00 p.m., I was sent to
bed early each evening.
This was not as bad as it
sounds, as I was allowed
to read and do anything I
chose, as long as I did
it from my bed. I used to
like to listen to the
radio and happily would
lay in bed and do so for
hours. At about 8.30
p.m., my mother would
come upstairs to check on
me and, if I was still
awake, turn the radio off
and tell me to go straight
to sleep, which
sounded easy, but was
hard to do. Once I heard
the singing on a Friday
or Saturday night, I
would get up immediately
and creep downstairs. I
would position myself on
the stairs just out of
view of my mother who
would be working from
behind the counter
serving the clientele. I
would always be certain
to be wearing my slippers
and dressing gown
otherwise, should I be found
without them, I had
no chance of being
allowed to stay. Like
most people of the time,
my parents believed that
one instantly caught terrible
diseases without such
coverings.
My
favourite evening of
radio listening was
Saturday. It was never a
problem for my mother to
get me to go to bed, as
there always great things
on the radio. Generally,
Saturday was a busy
day for me since I
had to complete my
rounds. I used to
enjoy spending Saturday
afternoons visiting the
stalls and talking to my
favourite costermongers
and shopkeepers. Once I
returned home, I
generally felt tired
and was happy to go to
bed without delay, and
besides, my programmes
would soon be on and
I had to be ready to hear
them!
I remember
that I would generally wander
home soon after Children’s
Hour had begun. As I
have said before, I was
never too impressed with
this programme. I would
generally be eating my tea
while listening to the Weather
and the Six
O’clock News.
My parents always
listened to these
programmes with great
interest and I sat and
ate quietly as they did.
Following this, the sports
results
would be read. This
meant the Football
Results.
In a time
when few opportunities
existed for legalised
gambling, doing the
pools was a rare
chance for the
ordinary fellar to
win a fortune for a small
outlay. At exactly
6.10 p.m. each Saturday
evening, families all
over Britain waited in
silence, but not without
a certain apprehension,
as the results were
read on the Home
Service of the B.B.C.
Meanwhile fathers and
husbands sat at the
kitchen table with a list
of the games played that
afternoon before them and
with a pencil poised in
their hand. Slowly and
deliberately, they wrote
down the final scores
against the names of each
of the teams as they were
announced. Later in life,
I realised how fortunate
I was that my father did
not do the Football
Pools each week, as I
learned of the misery
that accompanied the
reading of the results
each Saturday evening, as
woe-be-tide anyone
who dared to talk and so
interrupt the
concentration of the
writer, as this would
cause the wrath of God
to descend on them!
Occasionally, sounds of
pleasure or dismay
escaped the mouth once
particular results were
learned. Should the right
combination of draws
come up, dreams would
be realised, but if not,
which was more often the
case, disappointment
would fall on the family.
Sadly, many mothers and
wives knew that they
would have to pay for
this disappointment later
that evening when their
drunken husbands returned
home from the pub. (For a
history of the Football
Pools, see The
History of the Football
Pools
following After
Thought and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Football_pool.)
Luckily I
was able to sit and
listen to the results
without fear. I liked to
hear the names of the
teams and especially
enjoyed hearing those of
the Scottish League. Names
like Hamilton
Academicals,
Stenhousemuir and Cowdenbeath
appealed to me, as
did Alloa Athletic,
Partick Thistle and Raith
Rovers, not to
mention Dunfermline,
Motherwell and Kilmarnock.
I had no concept of
these names. Were they
places or people or
things? The only actual
game that interested me
during those days was the
one concerning West
Ham United.
West Ham United is
the East End team and
had legions of fans in
the area. Unfortunately,
the team spent much
of its playing life in
the Second Division during
my childhood, but in
1966, three team players
stood heads and shoulders
above the crowd and
helped England win the World
Cup.
I was
never hungry at Saturday
evening tea since
I had generally feasted
well during my rounds and
had tasted many succulent
sweetmeats and drinks
during this time. This
always annoyed my mother
since she had told me
that I was not to overeat
when out. Naturally, I
did not listen. How could
I? For who could refuse a
cake or a bag of chips or
a Saveloy, washed
down with a soft drink?
Following
the Sports Results, I
would make efforts to
help clear the table and
then prepare myself for
bed. While doing this, I
would be able to hear the
Saturday Sports Review
and Those were the
days! My father
enjoyed this programme
and would often linger at
the kitchen table to
listen. Occasionally, he
and my mother would dance
to a tune. This would
generally end in a slight
tiff mainly
because my mother would
forget and want to lead
and some mild pushing
and shoving would
take place and my father
would come off the worse
for this! Poor Harry
Davidson would be
horrified if he had
known!
By 7.15
p.m. I had to be in bed.
This was not from a
demand from my parents,
but rather I had to be
ready for In
Town Tonight.
This was
an earlier version of the
Talk Show and was
a wonderful and
interesting programme
where visitors to London
came to Broadcasting
House and were
interviewed. I especially
remember Les
Paul & Mary Ford.
being on the
programme while they were
appearing at the London
Palladium and I
recall that they played
and sang something, the
name of which escapes me
at present. However, what
was spectacular about the
programme was its
introduction and ending.
It began with the sound
of traffic, which would
be interrupted, or rather
frozen once
someone yelled at the top
of their voice STOP!
Immediately an announcer
would say once again
we stop the roar of
London’s mighty
traffic to bring to you
those that are IN TOWN
TONIGHT! And off we
would go. At the end, the
traffic would start up
once more and then fade
off into the distance. I
found this sort of thing
both dramatic and
spellbinding.
As the
evening wore on, there
were several of my
special programmes to
hear. Firstly, there was
a visit to the Music
Hall. Being a devotee
of the genre and
a regular of the
Hackney, anything to
do with Music Hall naturally
would interest me
greatly. Here comedians
and singers and virtuosos
of various musical
instruments would
entertain. As good as
these earlier programmes
were, what followed, Saturday
Night Theatre, was
the highlight of my week.
I enjoyed a long play on
the radio – none
of your-thirty
minute-stuff –
each week, we were
treated to a good hour
and twenty minutes –
something to get
one’s teeth into!
I did not mind if the
setting was contemporary
or period; whether it was
an adaptation from
another medium or
specially written for the
occasion. Perhaps I did
have a slight preference
for the period setting,
but only because there
would generally be a
sword fight, which always
sounded very
exciting. The great
advantage of radio over
television, and this
could still be true
today, is that radio
allows the imagination to
roam and romp free. My
imagination certainly
developed well as a child
thanks to B.B.C.
Radio.
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