TASHY DID - A LIFE
1958
Life goes on, so they say, and so it did this year. Mother’s health was up and down, my sister started school and I had a damn good go at electrocuting myself.
Sometime during this year, mother contracted pneumonia and was very ill for several months. It’s strange that I really don’t remember anything untoward in my
life at this time. I would go to school during term time, come home and do homework, watch some television, there were only two channels and they didn’t
broadcast 24/7 as now. In fact, if memory serves me correctly they didn’t start till lunchtime, had a break in the afternoon and returned about 5.00pm with
an hour of children’s programmes.
Any spare time I had, was spent riding my bike on that long driveway or around the block. I had recently read a book about the 1957 Le Mans 24 hour race,
won by the Jaguar of Ron Flockhart and Ivor Bueb. They covered 327 laps and so, one day, I set out to beat that up and down the driveway. For most of you this
next bit will mean nothing but, if you discount the banking, my driveway was a bit like the Avus circuit used for the 1959 German Grand Prix. The end by the
gates was quite narrow, the other end, the garage end, allowed a wider radius and hence more speed. If memory serves it took me about half an hour of
non-stop riding to achieve the 327 laps and I may have lost count on the way. Writing this now I have no idea why I didn’t take up cycling as a sport.
For my birthday I asked for, and received, a stopwatch so then I could time each individual lap although, to be honest, riding a bike at the speeds
I did, holding a stopwatch and pressing the switch at the right moment was a bit hit and miss. On Grand Prix weekends, I now received Autocar each week with
my parents' papers, I would practice on the appropriate days and then race on Sundays. It was possibly lucky that mother wasn’t around much because I did this,
if I could, in all weathers although I think the 1958 Argentine Grand Prix, held in January, may have been cancelled because of snow.
Mother didn’t enjoy my love of motor sport and, I think it was in this year, we were watching the Daily Express International Trophy meeting at Silverstone,
one of the few broadcast live, and there was a massive accident in the touring car race. My memory tells me that a Ford Zephyr barrel-rolled along the start
and finish straight. We were all sitting watching and as soon as mother saw the beginnings of the accident she leapt from her chair and stood, arms akimbo,
in front of the set so no one could see what had happened. Eventually she was persuaded to move. Later that month, I think, on a brief visit to London,
father took me to Crystal palace to see my first ever motor race and I met a very young Bruce McLaren. Over 45 years later I had the pleasure of meeting
his sister at the old family garage in Remura.
At school I moved up from J2, first year junior, to J5, second year junior. I think there was a sort of streaming system here, with J1 and 4 for the
lower ones and J3 and 6 for the brainy ones. I was, therefore, insignificantly, and happily, in the middle. Sometime during this year I was also quite ill
and it transpires, though no one told me at the time, that I had caught glandular fever. This has a habit of revisiting you in later years and may account
for some of my illnesses in the next few years.
Let’s finish this year with the near electrocution. I told you that, in our large room, father had placed a large piece of hardboard on some trestles
and we had made up my train set there. For Christmas of 1957 I had been given a Scalextric set, one of the very first, It had 8 45° corner pieces and, I think
4 but it may have been 6, straight sections. The track was rubber, the cars were metal and had a sort of roller-ball which fitted into a groove in the track.
The controller was a button which didn’t really allow much feel. The cars were a Ferrari, which was ugly, and a 250F Maserati, one of the most beautiful cars
ever made.
This immediately resulted in the train set being put away and the Scalextric taking its place. I actually think father was a little upset about this as
he rather enjoyed playing with the trains. The problem I had, occurred because the power point was too far away from the transformer to plug it in. The
transformer was of course essential as nobody wants 240 volts going through their body do they? To bridge this gap, father bought on extension lead. The
extension lead consisted of a three pin jack socket and a three pin, I suppose, Jill socket. Anyway you stuck Jack, who was connected to the mains, into
Jill, who was connected to the transformer and then switched it on and away you went. The flaw in this procedure, and one that health and safety would not
allow today, was some idiot might plug in the other end of the Jack socket before making the connection. The Jack pins were then live. And friends, I was
that idiot. Not remembering it was plugged in, I picked up the Jack socket, touching the pins. Presumably 240 volts did indeed shoot through my body. I was,
so they tell me, wearing rubber soled shoes and that may have helped. All I knew was a sudden, burning feeling and I immediately dropped the plug. Apparently
this lightening quick reaction may have saved my life. Mother said my hair stood on end and, personally, I don’t blame it.
This was also the year when we had our only holiday in Yorkshire. We hired a car, just getting the feel of things, and had two days out. On one day we
went to Filey, on the other to Hornsea. I remember little or nothing of both. Mother’s father came to visit us occasionally, as did my aunt and my cousin.
I also remember a visit from our old home help from London who was, by now or soon would be, working for some pretty high ranking BBC staff and actors,
including a future Doctor Who producer
Life goes on, so they say, and so it did this year. Mother’s health was up and down, my sister started school and I had a damn good go at electrocuting myself.
Sometime during this year, mother contracted pneumonia and was very ill for several months. It’s strange that I really don’t remember anything untoward in my
life at this time. I would go to school during term time, come home and do homework, watch some television, there were only two channels and they didn’t
broadcast 24/7 as now. In fact, if memory serves me correctly they didn’t start till lunchtime, had a break in the afternoon and returned about 5.00pm with
an hour of children’s programmes.
Any spare time I had, was spent riding my bike on that long driveway or around the block. I had recently read a book about the 1957 Le Mans 24 hour race,
won by the Jaguar of Ron Flockhart and Ivor Bueb. They covered 327 laps and so, one day, I set out to beat that up and down the driveway. For most of you this
next bit will mean nothing but, if you discount the banking, my driveway was a bit like the Avus circuit used for the 1959 German Grand Prix. The end by the
gates was quite narrow, the other end, the garage end, allowed a wider radius and hence more speed. If memory serves it took me about half an hour of
non-stop riding to achieve the 327 laps and I may have lost count on the way. Writing this now I have no idea why I didn’t take up cycling as a sport.
For my birthday I asked for, and received, a stopwatch so then I could time each individual lap although, to be honest, riding a bike at the speeds
I did, holding a stopwatch and pressing the switch at the right moment was a bit hit and miss. On Grand Prix weekends, I now received Autocar each week with
my parents' papers, I would practice on the appropriate days and then race on Sundays. It was possibly lucky that mother wasn’t around much because I did this,
if I could, in all weathers although I think the 1958 Argentine Grand Prix, held in January, may have been cancelled because of snow.
Mother didn’t enjoy my love of motor sport and, I think it was in this year, we were watching the Daily Express International Trophy meeting at Silverstone,
one of the few broadcast live, and there was a massive accident in the touring car race. My memory tells me that a Ford Zephyr barrel-rolled along the start
and finish straight. We were all sitting watching and as soon as mother saw the beginnings of the accident she leapt from her chair and stood, arms akimbo,
in front of the set so no one could see what had happened. Eventually she was persuaded to move. Later that month, I think, on a brief visit to London,
father took me to Crystal palace to see my first ever motor race and I met a very young Bruce McLaren. Over 45 years later I had the pleasure of meeting
his sister at the old family garage in Remura.
At school I moved up from J2, first year junior, to J5, second year junior. I think there was a sort of streaming system here, with J1 and 4 for the
lower ones and J3 and 6 for the brainy ones. I was, therefore, insignificantly, and happily, in the middle. Sometime during this year I was also quite ill
and it transpires, though no one told me at the time, that I had caught glandular fever. This has a habit of revisiting you in later years and may account
for some of my illnesses in the next few years.
Let’s finish this year with the near electrocution. I told you that, in our large room, father had placed a large piece of hardboard on some trestles
and we had made up my train set there. For Christmas of 1957 I had been given a Scalextric set, one of the very first, It had 8 45° corner pieces and, I think
4 but it may have been 6, straight sections. The track was rubber, the cars were metal and had a sort of roller-ball which fitted into a groove in the track.
The controller was a button which didn’t really allow much feel. The cars were a Ferrari, which was ugly, and a 250F Maserati, one of the most beautiful cars
ever made.
This immediately resulted in the train set being put away and the Scalextric taking its place. I actually think father was a little upset about this as
he rather enjoyed playing with the trains. The problem I had, occurred because the power point was too far away from the transformer to plug it in. The
transformer was of course essential as nobody wants 240 volts going through their body do they? To bridge this gap, father bought on extension lead. The
extension lead consisted of a three pin jack socket and a three pin, I suppose, Jill socket. Anyway you stuck Jack, who was connected to the mains, into
Jill, who was connected to the transformer and then switched it on and away you went. The flaw in this procedure, and one that health and safety would not
allow today, was some idiot might plug in the other end of the Jack socket before making the connection. The Jack pins were then live. And friends, I was
that idiot. Not remembering it was plugged in, I picked up the Jack socket, touching the pins. Presumably 240 volts did indeed shoot through my body. I was,
so they tell me, wearing rubber soled shoes and that may have helped. All I knew was a sudden, burning feeling and I immediately dropped the plug. Apparently
this lightening quick reaction may have saved my life. Mother said my hair stood on end and, personally, I don’t blame it.
This was also the year when we had our only holiday in Yorkshire. We hired a car, just getting the feel of things, and had two days out. On one day we
went to Filey, on the other to Hornsea. I remember little or nothing of both. Mother’s father came to visit us occasionally, as did my aunt and my cousin.
I also remember a visit from our old home help from London who was, by now or soon would be, working for some pretty high ranking BBC staff and actors,
including a future Doctor Who producer
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