The Curly-haired Boy

John was born on the 13th of November 1923. He had four sisters and two brothers. Being the youngest, he received a lot of love and care. His sister Sheila wanted a baby sister, but when John turned out to have blonde curly hair, she pushed him around in a pram and called him Joyce. However, one day, Sheila cut off John's hair whilst playing a game of hairdressers. She frantically tried to glue it back on again before she was discovered. John was the only child able to complete his education, because his brother Tom had diphtheria when he was due to take the eleven plus (there were no second chances then) and two of the four girls who passed the eleven plus decided to find jobs. A memory possessed by John's live remaining siblings, Tom and Sheila, is the penny bundles. At the end of the local jumble sale, the organisers would put what was left into sacks and sell them for a penny. They would fight to get the best things from the penny bundles.

SCHOOL:

John was very naughty at school and got the cane every day for being late. His best friend once won a pair of tickets to go to Lord's to watch a cricket match. He took John despite the headmaster's attempts to persuade him to do otherwise.

Whilst John was at school, he sang on the radio. When his voice broke, he had an excellent tenor. When John was sixteen, war had officially broken out. John's school was evacuated to the Rhondda valley in Wales. John spent most of his time playing sports and enjoying himself rather than studying for Matriculation. John needed a pass in six subjects in order to matriculate to university. John also passed his A levels: English, Latin and French.

in school
John at school (left)
John singing on the radio
At the microphone

A Song to Bacchus

Relatives and friends, I hope you know
     That here before you stands a so-and-so.
In case you haven't heard then have a peep,
     ‘Cos here I am – the family's black sheep.

For years I was the golden-headed lad
     And then the devil said – "Go on, be BAD!"
'Twas then I vowed that life I would enjoy,
     No more I'd be the goody-goody boy.

"Now John," says I, "donI't do this thing half-hearted,
     "Let's make a real good do of what we've started."
And then (I guess there is no need to tell)
     I started sprinting on the way to hell.