2) Off to Africa

When I was about 13 I started helping out at my parents café on weekends. It was called the Empire Café because it was near the stage door of the Empire Theatre. The theatre was closed down later and turned into a supermarket. Quite a number of the staff of the theatre would come into our café, and at times the stars would too. I remember my Dad taking me to meet Max Bygraves when I was very small. He asked for a kiss before putting his name in my autograph book but I was too shy, so he just signed it “love and kisses from Max Bygraves”.

The Café was also near the bus station so we had a lot of the bus drivers and conductors for customers and people who had just arrived in town and those who were just leaving. Dad opened the café early in the morning so that the men on their way to work could have a hot cup of tea. We stayed open till late at night to catch the trade of the people who had been to the theatre and the pubs. We opened seven days a week, every week of the year. The only day we did not open was on Christmas day. When one is open for such a long time staffing is always a problem. Girls in Swansea did not want café work. A new factory had just opened in Morriston making Triang Dinky cars and the girls could make much more money painting the headlights on the little cars than we could afford to pay them. Initially I used to clear the tables and wash the dishes; it was some time before I was allowed to serve customers. Mom was a very good businesswoman who believed that the customer was always right and worked very hard to please them. I remember how upset she was with me once when I was rude to a customer. It was about Christmas time and we would get lots of old ladies who only came to Swansea once a year from the Rhondda valley they were simple country folk in the big town to do Christmas shopping and maybe go to the pantomime. Mom never put up the price of anything until she saw that all the other cafes in the area were charging more than us. That particular year the price of a cup of tea had gone up from 3 pence to 3 ½ pence and all day Mom had been explaining to people that prices had gone up everywhere now and we just had to charge more because milk and tea and sugar and wages were all going up all the time. I suppose I had had a pretty bad day but when the these two old dears asked for two cups of tea and said “ Thruppence ha’penny, I can get it for thruppence down the road” I did not bother to explain the situation but just poured out the tea and said “Well why don’t you just go down the road and get it?” I got a real talking to from Mom. Dad put in very long hours but I don’t think he ever wanted to do anything else except of course if he could have gone on the stage. He had a comedy act that he used to preform in the workingmen’s clubs and he was well liked. He always had a joke: we of course as his family knew all his jokes and thought they were very corny but there are a lot of them that are still around now. When I am told any of them, I think of my Dad and think he could tell them much better. Once we all went to a talent contest that Dad had entered and he finished his stand up comedy act with a tear jerking monologue called “Rosa” I squirmed in my seat with embarrassment, I thought it was awful but when I looked at the people around me I saw that they were mopping their eyes and they gave him a great round of clapping, he did not win the contest but he was popular. Whenever he came to our school for any function he always had a joke for the nuns and he teased them unmercifully. It used to bother me when I was a kid, but when I went back to see the nuns after I was married and had my first child they all asked after my Dad and said how they had enjoyed his visits and his wonderful sense of humour. He also did a few magic tricks and these always fascinated him, in fact he was a member of the Magic Circle. He was very good with a disappearing thimble. I remember once he was inside the shop and Glen a friend of his who was also good with a disappearing thimble was outside. Dad pretended to throw his thimble to Glen who pretended to catch it. They carried on for quite a while ‘throwing’ it back and for and a fair size crowd gathered to watch the performance. When they had finished and the crowd had dispersed one of the men came forward and felt the glass all over for the hole that he thought that they had been throwing the thimble through. Sometimes when people came into the shop to ask for directions he would say “I wouldn’t start from here if I were you, Go along the road and turn left at the first road, then take the first turning to your left, then first left again then one more turn to your left, and start from there. A number of times we would have that same person back again having walked right round the block wanting directions to the same place again. We had the same taste in music and he would often take me to shows in Cardiff. The one we enjoyed most was Nat King Cole Live. We had front row seats and had a wonderful time. I remember Nat King Cole saying something about the fact that we had all paid a lot of money for our tickets and Dad shouted out “You were worth every penny” and the singer bowed to him and said “Thank you, you are very kind Sir” I was thrilled to think Nat King Cole had actually spoken to my Dad.

I remember once when I was much smaller he managed to get two tickets for a concert by Gigli Cardiff. My Mom and my Gran wanted to go and see the aging tenor. We drove them through waited to pick them up after the show. They said Gigli was very tired and that to avoid people bothering him outside the theatre the doors were kept closed until he had left. We were outside waiting for Mom and Gran and when he came out my Dad just walked up to him and got his autograph, we must have been the only ones to get it that day.

Most years Dad took us three girls to the pantomime. I remember seeing Harry Secombe in pantomime one year and Morecambe and Wise another, also Arthur Askey and Norman Wisdom, names from the past that were very popular in their days. Often when we got out of the theatre in the middle of the winter the roads would be iced up and the buses would have stopped and we would have to walk home. Dad who’s hands were always warm would put his hand on our faces to keep us warm and we would walk home singing the songs we had seen in the pantomime that evening. Dad’s hand were always warm, he never wore gloves. I often gave him gloves for Christmas because I thought he needed them, but he never wore them.

My Mom and Dad with Adele, me and Dulcie

Often on a Sunday afternoon Dad would take us girls to the docks to see the ships. We loved to see what was in the dock and the sailors, particularly the foreign ones were kind to us and showed us over their ships. We went aboard cargo boats, oil tankers, coal barges and dredgers. Once we went on a light ship and climbed to the top of the light and down to the bottom of the engine room. The sailors explained to us how the ship was a floating lighthouse and was normally moored at sea at places that were dangerous to shipping at certain times of the year. We also went on to a tug to guide a ship into the harbour. I think the ship was called The Spirit of London. The dock pilot went out with the tug then when the tug was tied up to the ship and he transferred to bridge of the larger vessel, took over from the Captain and directed operations from there. I think of sailors giving us cups of hot tea from thick mugs that did not break easily and that the tables had a lip raised around the edge so that the crockery did not slide off with every roll of the sea.

When I was about 12 my Dad and I went on a holiday to Venice together. One of the problems of owning their own business was that my parents never went on holiday together, one of them always had to be there to keep an eye on things. I think Dulcie went with my Mom one year, Adele went twice once when she was 11 with Mom and Gran and again when she was 14 with Mom, my Dad’s mother and our cousin Bernadette. We stayed with my Aunt Theresa who’s flower girl I had been when she married Bruno. By then Bruno had died from TB. Theresa was living in a flat that was under the St. Marks bells. Look at any postcard of St. Marks Square and you will see the huge bell flanked by two Moors with their hammers ready to strike on the hour. At 1 o’clock first one gives the bell a mighty whack that shakes the whole building and then the other one has his turn. Not too bad at 1 o’clock but at midnight it was earth shattering. At the time Theresa lived with her little daughter Rita and her younger sister Adeline had come from Swansea to keep her company now that she was a widow. They had a housekeeper called Marcella who I remember cooked like a dream. We did all the usual touristy things in Venice, the Rialto Bridge, St. Marks Cathedral, the glass works at Murano, the Lido. It was good to have my aunts who were residents to show us around. We also went by train to Rome for a few days. Visited St Peters, the Trevi Fountain, the Colosseum and then went on by bus to the village of Villa Latina where my parent’s family had come from. Villa Latina is about half way between Rome and Naples in the south of Italy. It is near a place called Cassino that was very heavily bombed during the war.

My Dad and I on Theresa’s roof in Venice
Look how close the Moors are to us.

If you have never been on an Italian country bus you should try it some time, it is an experience never to be forgotten. The bus was crowded with people coming home from the markets I suppose. There were chickens, little pigs, bicycles, suitcases, shopping bags, and goodness only knows what else tied on to the roof rack. As soon as they got onto the bus everyone got out their food. Very pungent sausages, even more pungent cheese, huge loaves of bread that they broke with their hands and lots of grapes and melon and other fruit. None of them knew how to talk quietly and they all had to emphasise every point with lots of hand movement and gesticulations. The driver got on and after greeting just about everyone started the bus. He took off at flat out speed and kept it up all the way to the village. I think the only thing that might have worn out quicker than the accelerator pedal on that bus was the hooter. He had his hand on it just about all the way. With his other hand he waved to other bus drivers, ate his lunch and took large drafts out of his wine bottle. I am just glad they did not have mobile phones in those days or he would have needed an extra hand.

I had been told that Villa Latina was an up to date village and had running water. I was very shocked to find that the running water was one tap in the middle of the village. Our relatives’ home was far too small to accommodate us all so we stayed at the local hotel. They had water borne sewage, but not running water so one was supplied with a bucket of water to flush the toilet. There was no electricity and I don’t think there was even a telephone. I can assure you it was a big cultural shock for me. My mom says that things have come a long way since I was there, running water in all the houses, electricity, TV, phones, modern houses and all the mod cons. Children who have gone to America have sent back money and people live well there now.

By the time I was 15 and able to leave school my parents were having a lot of problems with staff and as I did not want to carry on with my education I left school and went to help them in the business. My friends were all still at school but we met often, to go the cinema or to go dancing. Dancing was our favourite outing and we went most Saturday evenings. Either to the Tower in Town Hill, the Casino in Mumbles or the Mumbles Pier Dance Hall that strangely enough was on the Mumbles Pier. It was at the Mumbles Pier that I met my future husband Jonathan Crowther. He was so much more interesting than any of the other boys I had dated because he came from Northern Rhodesia (now Zambia). I must admit I did not have a clue where Northern Rhodesia was but soon learnt a lot about it.

Jonathan was 25 at the time and I was 18 it was in September 1962. He had completed his apprenticeship as a boilermaker on the mines on the Copper Belt in Northern Rhodesia. On completion of their apprenticeship most of them were expected to leave and get post apprentice experience elsewhere. They received fairly large payouts because of the generous saving scheme provided by the mining company that they worked for. With this money and being qualified artisans the world was their oyster. Jonathan and three of his friends, Eric Davis, Steve (Popeye) De Lange and David (Taffy) Morris sailed to England as passengers on board the Edinburgh Castle and made for London. They did all the touristy things, Madam Tussar’s, the Planetarium, the Tower of London, they saw cinemas, shows and probably the inside of quite a few of the pubs. David had a 21st birthday at that time and his grandparents who lived in Swansea had promised to give him a party. Of course all his friends were invited to Swansea for the party, Jonathan liked it so much he went back to London, packed his things, moved to Swansea and made it his base for the rest of the time he was in the United Kingdom. He went to sea for a while, signing up as a junior engineer with the Castle Line. The very first night he was at sea on board the Tantallon Castle the storms were so bad that there were five ships in distress. Jonathan was so busy trying to keep things going that he did not to worry about it the situation (and he did not know any better). He rushed around all over the place, regulating the gauges; putting out fires and doing all the things that very junior engineers are expected to do. Just as he was beginning to get seasick, worn out and ready to quit the ship sailed out of the storm and into quieter water.

I don’t suppose you could call it love at first sight but it did not take us long to know that we wanted to be married to each other. We met at the end of September as I mentioned before at the Mumbles Pier Dance Hall, and by November Jonny had proposed and I accepted. He was just the most interesting boy I had ever met and I was very sure that I would never meet anyone nicer, and I never did. I remember the evening he came to ask my father for permission to marry me (Gosh how old fashioned that sounds!!!). It was snowing and being from Africa Jonny had not seen much snow in his life so we went for a walk and started making a snow ball it got too big to carry so we rolled it along the ground and of course it picked up more snow as it went and got bigger and bigger by the time we got it to my front garden it was about a meter and a half in diameter we put it on the front lawn and there was still some of it left in March. It was a very cold winter.

Jonny was living in digs with a landlady called Mrs. Hopkins in Landore, across the other side of Swansea. She was very good to him and all the people in the neighbourhood liked him. They called him “That boy from Africa”. By the time we met he had been away from home for about three years and I suppose was beginning to feel rather homesick. His parents had divorced when he was about six. His mother had remarried a man called Fred Petza but she had died from cancer since Jonny had left Africa. He has an older brother called Don who was married to Vicky and they had three children, Raymond, Donny and Natalie. Then there was a sister called Cecilia married to Derrick with a daughter Bernice. He had a younger sister called Sally married to Maurice, with two boys Jeremy and Maurice. His Dad had also remarried a lady called Daleen and they had a young son called Devilliers but they lived in South Africa and Jonny had had no contact with his Dad since the divorce.

My parents were not too pleased that I wanted to marry someone that they knew nothing about and from so far away: but as we were not planning to marry very soon they did not forbid our engagement. I think they thought that we were so young we would change our minds pretty soon and it was better not to object and make us more determined. At the time Jonny was in and out of work. He was doing mostly outdoor construction work then and because of the very cold weather not possible to continue and the workers were all laid off. He got a job with the Margam Steel Works in Port Talbot as a temporary stand in for a few months. He was offered a permanent job once the three-month period was over but when the time came the Margam workers were on strike so obviously no job. He was on the dole and we knew that he would never save enough for us to get married that way so he decided to go home to Northern Rhodesia, get a job there and save to get married. He planed to leave on Jan 20th 1963 and on my 19th birthday we went to choose our engagement ring. He did not have any money but was expecting a refund from the income tax department and was going to use that for the ring. The refund did not come in time but we decided to go and choose the ring anyway. We walked into jewellers and asked to see some rings. The assistant asked what price range we were looking at and Jonny said “Money is no object, just show us what ever my fiancée fancies”. I knew that money was an object and chose a modestly priced very pretty ring but then young ‘Rockerfeller’ had to explain after saying that it was no object that he had no money and would have to send money from Africa once he had got there and got a job. They were very good about it and kept the ring for us, without a deposit and just sent me a postcard to come and collect it as soon as they received the money for it.

Jonny left Swansea on Jan 20th, went to stay with his brother Don in a small town called Bancroft and quickly got a job on the mine there. I started writing letters, I had never been much of a letter writer before, I did not have anyone to write to but now I did. I also started to read as much as I could find about Northern Rhodesia which I knew would now be my new home and I was longing for it.

In March of 1963 my Dad lost his sight. He had been a diabetic since he was a young man. It had been discovered when he was called up to the army during the war and it resulted in his being turned down. He had not really looked after his diet although my Mom had tried to get him to. He went to Cardiff with his mother and his sisters Amelia and Adeline on some business trip or other and had not eaten anything all day. When he arrived home he said he felt terrible, he was an awful grey colour and so the doctor was called. Dad had slipped into a diabetic coma and when he came round he could not see. There had been haemorrhaging in the optic nerves and his sight was gone. It must have been a big shock to him, he had always been independent and able to run his business but now he had to depend on my mother and I to run the business, fortunately I had learnt to drive and had my licence. Once he was on his feet again he and I would go and open up the shop at 6am. He could not do a lot but he kept me company and I don’t think I could have done it without him. My Mom used to come in at about 11am and then after the lunch trade I would go home at about 2pm and sleep for an hour or two and then go back to help until we locked up at around midnight. My Mom was also trying to run the house as my Gran had become more and more crippled with arthritis and could not do much to help any more. It was a hard time for us all. My eldest sister Dulcie was married by then and living in London with her husband Alan and their two babies Martin and Frances so she could not help and my younger sister Adele was still at school so although she did help when she could it was not full time. We had an assortment of helpers but none of them stayed very long. It was decided that the business must be sold; I would stay until after it was sold. It is not easy to sell a business when everyone knows that one has to sell. The buyers held back and waited until the price dropped and so it was not sold until April 1964 and as soon as the sale was finalised I booked my ticket to Africa for the end of May. We had decided to get married in Africa now and I bought my wedding dress packed up my belongings and left Penlan Crescent forever. I was excited to be going and to be seeing the man I loved and had not seen for 16 months but of course it was not easy to leave my family. I knew I would miss them all so much.

I said I had learnt to drive and had my licence but it was not as easy as that sounds. I started learning as soon as I was allowed to, on my 17th birthday but it took me five tries to pass my test. The first time I tried the examiner told me that to start with, he wanted me to do hand signals (I don’t think they even learn them nowadays). I got myself ready, looked in the mirror, looked over my shoulder, stuck my hand out of the window to show I was pulling out and I had forgotten to wind down the window. I thought it was very funny but the examiner was not amused. I giggled all the way round the course and so failed my test. The second time I tried we had had frost the night before and I had never driven on frosty roads. The examiner took me to Constitution Hill to do my hill start. It was the steepest hill in town and it was like glass with the ice on it. They used to say in those days that if you did a hill start you should be able to put a match box behind the back wheel of the car and not crush it as you took off. I certainly did not manage that. But I persevered and did eventually pass the test; maybe they just gave it to me for good attendance. But living in Africa where public transport is not very good I have always been grateful that I did not give up. During the time I was learning to drive a woman ran out between two parked cars and straight into my cars bonnet, you can imagine I got a terrible fright and an ambulance was called to take the lady to hospital to be check out. She was not hurt at all but I came in for a lot of teasing for having “knocked down the poor old lady”.

One of the girls we all used to go dancing with had met a boy from Southern Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) and they were planning to marry too. I don’t remember how the local newspaper got on to the story but they came and interviewed us about our plans and our photograph was on the front of the paper.

I bought my wedding dress in Swansea before I left; my Mom came with me to choose it. I remember there were two that I liked. One of them was 15 guineas and the other was 18 guineas. I thought about it for a while but decided that I liked the 18 guinea one best. Mom thought it was a big waste of money as the 15 guinea one was just as pretty. By the way a guinea was one pound and one shilling (a shilling was the equivalent of about 10 pence). Hardly a lot of money even in those days.

I remember Mom asking me a dozen times if I had telegraphed Jonny about my flight times and I kept saying “Yes”. She asked if I had had a reply from him and was only happy when she saw the telegram from him to say that he would be there to collect me. She said that she imagined that the plane would touch down on an airstrip in the middle of the jungle and the other passengers would all be collected and I would be left in the middle of the jungle with the lions and elephants around me all alone. She certainly did not know much about Africa in those days, and I only knew a little more.
I had never been on an aeroplane before so it was quite an experience for me. I flew from Heathrow Airport, and had a stop over in Uganda, coming down to land close to Lake Victoria. Near the end of the flight I was beginning to worry that I might not recognise Jonny after so long a time. I don’t suppose I need have worried even if my memory had failed me I don’t think there were many white faces to choose from there. Ndola was a small town but it was an important railway junction for all traffic going to the Copperbelt. Jonny had lived there for a while when he was small. His Mom had run a tea room at the airport at one time and at another time she had run one next door to the Bijou Cinema. The airport was not big and the local people seemed to like to come and see the planes come in. I remember there being hundreds of young black children watching the planes through the fence. It took ages to get us through the customs and immigration and the plane was only an old Viscount with I suppose about 150 people on board, what would they have done with a Jumbo full of people.