So what happened to all these young Cartographers, surveyors and draughtsmen/women? A great many chose to leave soon after completing training, because of course, with all the development that the country required to heal the wounds caused by the war, local government offices, public utilities, construction companies etc were also desperately seeking people with cartographic skills. The words, Ordnance Survey, inserted in the 'Previous Experience' box on an application form, seemed to almost guarantee an interview at least, and perhaps the offer of a job closer to home. But for those of us who stayed, the O.S., like so many other large institutions of that time, gathered us in like a huge enveloping family.
To find accommodation for all these young people arriving from all over the country, many leaving home for the first time, was the job of a small but efficient welfare department who would search Southampton for suitable lodgings. Recreation was catered for by a sports and social club which could provide facilities, for most popular sports, and a long list of hobbies like photography and stamp collecting. One of the welfare department's main competitors for accommodation was of course the rapidly expanding Southampton University. Many of us found ourselves sharing digs with University students and, with their help, it was not difficult to 'acquire' a Student Union Card which opened up a wealth of other recreational possibilities.
The popular music of the early sixties was all around us in the pubs and coffee bars, but so also was jazz. Both traditional and mainstream were enjoying a revival and the bands of Alex Welsh, Chris Barber and Monty Sunshine were frequent visitors to The Concorde Club, then housed in an annex of the Basset Hotel. Across town in rather less salubrious surroundings, was the infamous Yellow Dog Jazz Club. Housed in a cellar under a pub, and accessed by one narrow staircase, this establishment was considered by most respectable citizens to be a hell hole, a den of sex, drugs and alcohol. This was to greatly malign it, for while all those three commodities were as available there, as they were in other similar venues, The Yellow Dog provided the opportunity to hear some of the finest exponents of New Orleans style jazz then working in Britain. The bands of Alan Elsdon, Keith Smith and Kid Martyn were regular visitors on a Friday evening, with occasional visits from The 'Guvner' himself, Ken Collier. During the interval Long John Baldry would sing and play the blues of Muddy Waters, Rev Garry Davis, Leadbelly and all the other musical legends of Chicago and the southern states. One evening we all flocked to the Gaumont Theatre where a festival of American Blues and Gospel artists had rolled into town. Big Bill Broonzy, Sonny Terry, Browny McGee, Sister Rosetta Tharpe and Bo Didley to name but a few. To warm up there was a British blues band, that no one had heard of, called The Rolling Stones. Actually they were quite good.
Following blues singers like Gerry Loughran and Long John Baldry led me from the jazz clubs to the folk clubs (often the same pub on a different night) and my musical education which had started in the southern states of America completed a full circle and brought me back home to the folk music heritage of the British Isles. For several years 'The Concorde' hosted The Balladeer Folk Club once a week with resident singers, Dave Williams, Vic Wilton and Pete Mills along with fellow O.S. cartographer, author and folk music historian, John 'Paddy' Browne. There were regular performances by national and international stars of folk music including Ewan MacColl and Peggy Seeger, Martin Carthy, Bob Davenport, The Watersons, the list goes on. I was a sponge soaking up all this music which spoke so eloquently, and often with exquisite poetry, of the human condition, past and present.
Flute
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To be continued.
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