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Posted: Fri Nov 13, 2009 6:31 am
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this is turning out to be a sad story indeed! :(


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Posted: Tue Nov 17, 2009 8:35 pm
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whens the next chapter going to come? i cant wait! :D


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Posted: Sat Dec 12, 2009 1:58 pm
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Location: Liverpool UK
I know I have neglected this post for a while, sorry about that.
I have been asked to write for someone else so I have been busy.

I wrote a short story for the BBC along with many other story tellers.
My apologies for it not being anything to do with the Precision bass
but it is a true story and might be of interest and give some insite into my pre Hi Cat days.
A story from my childhood.



It was the summer of 1946 in Liverpool.

My childhood was spent mostly playing in and among the many ruined buildings of my city,
after the devastation caused by the bombs, dropped on civilian targets, by the German invaders during that terrible war,
which had, not long ago, ended in victory for the defenders of freedom and civilisation.

I was ten years old, and by now a very streetwise kid, with experiences that only today’s children of Palestine, Afghanistan and Iraq would have any inkling.

Liverpool, a Seaport, had been one of the prime targets of the Luftwaffe during the war years and I had become well used to diving into underground shelters with my family, to escape the carnage caused by huge quantities of high explosives and
incendiary devices being dropped upon us from the skies.

It had not been an unusual event; to turn up at school and find an empty
desk were a friend had sat only the day before, a casualty, often lost along with his entire family.

As a member of a small group of tough children who had survived the war years,
we were totally un-traumatised by those recent events, didn’t need any counselling, and would have laughed at any attempt to apply the sort of
treatment or help which, today would be mandatory.

My story begins on a visit to New Brighton a small seaside resort situated on the banks of the river Mersey opposite Liverpool, were I would, years later, play with the Hi Cats

It was a gorgeous sunny Saturday, and the five of us had boarded the ferryboat at the Pier Head near to the famous Liver Buildings.
The boat was packed with day-trippers; most of whom were accompanied by excited children carrying buckets and spades.

I always liked to travel on the ferryboat, as I had done many times before.
I watched from the upper deck as the Ferryman held his hand up, to halt
the rush of passengers across the gangway, when he knew that their numbers were reaching the Ferryboat's limit.
Another Ferryman blocked it off with a light chain.

There was a rush to cross on the second gangway, but that too was soon brought to a halt.

“Don’t worry,” he shouted above the din, “there will be another boat along as soon as this one leaves”.

There was then the usual skirmish as passengers who had been
separated by the sudden closure, were re-united with their families and friends.
Both the gangways were then lifted into the upright position and a sliding
barrier was pulled across the resulting gaps on the ferryboat.
The shore men then lifted the huge ropes from over the massive steel bollards and the ferrymen pulled them safely onto the boat in a
well-rehearsed routine.
The powerful engines started to throb and the water at the rear of the boat began to churn white, as the propellers spun and the boat began to
move slowly away from the Landing Stage and headed towards New Brighton.

As we pulled out into the river we soon passed the other ferry coming in the opposite direction to take our place, ready to unload hundreds of
passengers and take on the hundreds waiting to board. The two boats sounded a short deep blast on their horn, as they passed one another.

On arrival at new Brighton the first place our little gang headed for was the fairground.
The place was always crowded.
My favourite venue was the Penny Arcade, full of slot machines, pin tables and “What the Butler Saw” viewing machines although I had to stand on
tiptoe to look into the viewer and turn the handle. My mother would have disapproved, had she known.

I was ten years old, my school friends were from the same year at school; Jimmy Teddy and Terry were all ten years old.
My brother Joe, the youngest, was seven.

After spending about three hours at the fair we decided to make our way down to the beach to collect some cockles.
We were disappointed to find that the tide was in and the sand was about ten feet under water.
We decided to have a swim.
We made our way about half a mile along the Promenade; to were there weren’t any people to bother us.
We all had bathing costumes on under our trousers.
After stripping our clothes off and dipping our toes into the water, everybody decided to stay on dry land, except Jimmy and me.
I dived in off the stone steps, which led from the Promenade down to the beach, which was far below the waves, and Jimmy followed behind.
I swam under the water as far as I could before surfacing.
Not to be outdone, Jimmy climbed back up the stone steps and dived in again, this time, surfacing further out than me.
It soon became a contest to see who could swim underwater the furthest out into the river before surfacing.
I was always a strong swimmer in my youth and could swim almost the whole length of the local swimming baths underwater.
I put this to good use, on this occasion, and beat Jimmy nearly every time.
It was on the last dive that I surfaced and found myself much further out than I expected.
I knew something was wrong.
As I began to swim back, I realised, with panic, that the tide had turned and I was now having great difficulty swimming back to the steps.
I made a tremendous effort and swam as fast as I could, but was only travelling very slowly back towards the welcoming steel handrail.
I could feel myself getting weak and exhausted but made a final attempt to accelerate once more until I felt the cold steel of the handrail beneath my fingers.

I grasped the rail with both hands and lay there floating on the waves for a while, gasping for breath
As I began to recover, and made my way up the stone steps, I heard a cry behind me.
I looked around and realised that Jimmy had dived in just after me and was further out and struggling to swim back to the steps.
“Help me, help me” was all he had the strength to say.

The rest of our gang stood there helpless.
They all knew about the treacherous tide in the Mersey and knew it would be suicide to try and rescue him by diving in.
I looked up and down the Prom for help.
The only adult in sight was an old man with a walking stick making his way on the other side of the road.
Looking back, I think, that was the moment I grew up and became an adult.
Realising that my friends life was now in my hands, I had to make a quick decision.
I noticed that all along the Promenade every fifty foot or so, there was a life belt mounted on the wall in a front-less box, but the belts were far too high for me to reach

I ran towards the old man with the walking stick and yelled for him to get the nearest lifebelt down for me.
He was taken aback by the urgency in my voice.
Because he was on the side of the road furthest from the river, he couldn’t see the drama, which was taking place.
I asked again, loudly “My mate is drowning. Will you please get that lifebelt down”.

“OK, OK” he said handing me the belt, which had a long rope attached.
I grabbed it and quickly ran across the road to the top of the steps. I tied the end of the rope to the steel railing with a knot I had learned in the Scouts.
I could see that Jimmy was ready to give up with exhaustion.
I yelled at him.
“Try and get hold of this Jim”. I threw the lifebelt into the water, hoping that there was enough rope to reach him.
Although he was still swimming, I could see that the tide was dragging him further out.
I soon realised, with horror that the lifebelt was drifting away from him and he didn’t have the strength to swim after it.
There was only one thing to do.
I would have to do the very last thing on earth that I wanted to do.
Go back into the water again.
I pulled the lifebelt back in again and gave instructions to the rest of the boys.
I then lowered myself into the river, and began to swim with one hand, while holding onto the lifebelt with the other.
I had no difficulty swimming out. The tide was taking me in that direction anyway.
I just had to make sure that I swam towards my school friend.
I finally reached Jimmy and guided his exhausted body towards the aptly named Lifebelt.
The rest of the gang pulled on the rope until both of us had finally reached the stone steps, depriving the River Mersey of two more victims.

It was amazing to realise, years later that we had never thought it necessary to tell the story to anyone else. I suppose the main reason was that we might have got a hiding from our parents if they had found out.

That was life in those days.


.


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Post subject:
Posted: Sun Dec 13, 2009 6:25 pm
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Joined: Thu Apr 16, 2009 1:44 pm
Posts: 139
Location: Liverpool UK
I will find the time shortly to carry on with the Hi Cats story. but I would appreciate any comments on the New Brighton one though.
(writing style or whether it was interesting, even criticism would be welcome)

I'm trying to improve my writing skills and I can't be my own judge,
I'm bound to be biased.

Either on this forum, if you have registered, or feel free to send an Email on

southtroy@yahoo.co.uk

.


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Post subject:
Posted: Wed Dec 16, 2009 9:35 am
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Joined: Fri Mar 21, 2008 11:00 am
Posts: 1226
Location: In the pocket north of Washington D.C.
J.T.,

I think you have a very good writing style. That was a very remarkable time in the history of the U.K. and your childhood experiences are unique in part becasue they took place surrounded by those circumstances.
I am no great writer so I think the value of my crtique may be limited.

You obviously saved your friend's life and you deserve some recognition for having done so, but this is a very different story than that of the Hi Cats and I can think of many follow-up questions that would lead me to read the next chapter in that story as well. For instance: Did your friend ever thank you then or later on in life?

I don't know how far off topic you want to go in this forum but I think you can rest assured that you can write in an engaging form of prose and with the right story, editing and promotion, you could find yourself to be a successful author.

_________________
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Post subject:
Posted: Thu Dec 24, 2009 5:42 am
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Joined: Thu Apr 16, 2009 1:44 pm
Posts: 139
Location: Liverpool UK
Thanks Bill
Your input is much appreciated.

It might seem surprising (by today’s standards) that an event, as significant as the one in that story, would pass without any further recognition,
and looking back, it didn’t even occur to me that I even deserved any.
At the time it didn't seem any more outstanding than scoring the winning goal in the school soccer match. Soon forgotten.
Don’t forget, as I mentioned earlier, we had been through much more traumatic experiences,
even witnessing people, we knew, being killed when their house was hit by a huge bomb and the whole building come crashing down on top of them.

As for your question about whether he thanked me. He did on that day and again years later when I met him, quite by chance, he was now a mechanic, and after hugging me (much to my embarrassment)
he explained to his workmates how none of his children would exist if it wasn’t for what happened on that day.

JT


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Post subject: Re: Anyone want to hear my sad story
Posted: Tue Feb 07, 2012 7:20 pm
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Joined: Thu Apr 16, 2009 1:44 pm
Posts: 139
Location: Liverpool UK
Still here


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Post subject: Re: Anyone want to hear my sad story
Posted: Sun Feb 12, 2012 11:02 am
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Joined: Sat Dec 03, 2011 2:43 pm
Posts: 670
I just found this thread yesterday and I find it very interesting. I noticed until a few days ago you haven't posted anything the last couple of years. I hope things are going okay for you.
Are you going to continue?
I'm about 10 years or so younger than you, but I rememer those times.
When The Beatles first came to the US they had a huge impact on me. I think I was around 9 or 10 at the time.
Reading about the everyday life of a muscian from those days in England is very fascinating to me. I do hope you continue.
Oh yeah, I think you have a great natural writing style. Thanks for sharing.

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2012 American Standard Precision V - Candy Cola Red
2012 Squier Vintage Modified Jazz V - Surf Green
2011 FCS Custom Classic Special Jazz Bass V - Violin Burst
1996 MIM Stratocaster HSS - Black
1975 Precision Bass - 3 Tone Sunburst


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Post subject: Re: Anyone want to hear my sad story
Posted: Tue Feb 14, 2012 9:11 am
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Joined: Fri Mar 21, 2008 11:00 am
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Location: In the pocket north of Washington D.C.
Hi J.T. and Happy New Year!

If you want to post any more stories about the Hi-Cats, we are always ready to read them.

I hope that you are doing well.

Bill from the USA


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Post subject: Re: Anyone want to hear my sad story
Posted: Tue Feb 21, 2012 7:19 pm
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Joined: Thu Apr 16, 2009 1:44 pm
Posts: 139
Location: Liverpool UK
Hi Bill
Nice to hear from you.
I'm afraid I had a bit of a scare and decided to take a rest from the computer. It was supposed to be a short rest but it wasn't until recently that I decided to see if anyone was still around from two years ago. (I see the reading figures are still going up)
I was working as usual repairing gas central heating boilers, (I think you call them furnaces).
I had to go upstairs, were the boiler was in the customers house.
As I got to the top of the stairs I found that I could hardly breathe. It was like trying to draw air through a straw.
I had to sit on the top stair and try not to panic while my lungs gradually settled down.
The customer was very concerned and asked me if he could call the emergency services.
I declined his offer because that would have meant leaving my van with all my expensive tools behind and I was not about to do that.
After about half an hour I felt able to make my way down to my van.
I apologised to the customer for not repairing his boiler and made my way home.
From there I rang my Doctors surgery and asked to see the Doctor. The receptionist, who answered the phone offered an appointment for "next Tuesday (today was Friday)
I said that I needed to see the Doctor now because I believed it was urgent.
She than said that Monday was the earliest she could fit me in.
I said that if I couldn't see the doctor right away then I would call 999 (our equivalent of 911) and call for an ambulance. That did the trick she said she would ring me back in five minutes, which she did. The Doctor had told her to ask me to go to the surgery as soon as possible.
After examining me, I was whisked into hospital diagnosed with pneumonia and spent several days on antibiotics. I was discharged after three days.
It took about a month before I could even think of going back to work.
I'm afraid that episode knocked the stuffing out of me and made me realise that I am not a young rooster any more. I am now back working but I take things easy now. I am still not 100% as far as breathing goes.

JT


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Post subject: Re: Anyone want to hear my sad story
Posted: Tue Feb 21, 2012 7:23 pm
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Hi grho50

I'm pleased to hear that you like my story.
I will attempt to dig into my memory and see if I can come up with some interesting stories.

JT


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Post subject: Re: Anyone want to hear my sad story
Posted: Tue Feb 21, 2012 8:01 pm
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Merseykid wrote:
Hi grho50

I'm pleased to hear that you like my story.
I will attempt to dig into my memory and see if I can come up with some interesting stories.

JT

That would be great.
I'll bet you won't have to do too much digging. Your stories might be common over there since the actual people who lived them, live there. Over here we never get to hear these tales. At least I don't.
That time period in Liverpool is something special. I suppose you didn't realize that 'til years later. Glad your telling the stories. Would make a great book series.

I'm sorry to hear about your health issues. It's good to hear that you are getting back on your feet. I'll keep you in mind when saying my prayers.

_________________
2012 American Standard Precision V - Candy Cola Red
2012 Squier Vintage Modified Jazz V - Surf Green
2011 FCS Custom Classic Special Jazz Bass V - Violin Burst
1996 MIM Stratocaster HSS - Black
1975 Precision Bass - 3 Tone Sunburst


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Post subject: Re: Anyone want to hear my sad story
Posted: Tue Feb 21, 2012 8:14 pm
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Joined: Thu Apr 16, 2009 1:44 pm
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Location: Liverpool UK
Thank you.


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Post subject: Re: Anyone want to hear my sad story
Posted: Wed Feb 22, 2012 11:11 am
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Location: In the pocket north of Washington D.C.
[quote][After examining me, I was whisked into hospital diagnosed with pneumonia and spent several days on antibiotics. I was discharged after three days.
It took about a month before I could even think of going back to work.
I'm afraid that episode knocked the stuffing out of me and made me realise that I am not a young rooster any more. I am now back working but I take things easy now. I am still not 100% as far as breathing goes./quote]

Hi J.T.
Pneumonia is nothing to play with. I do hope you are feeling better and your health is improving.
Aren't you ready to retire?
Working on boilers sounds like a young man's job and you have some good stories to tell. I hope you can start to take it easy. I don't mean to be too forward about your working situation, but I would think that you should consider slowing down so you can maintain your health.
Take care of yourself,
Bill

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If thine enemy wrong thee, buy each of his children a drum.


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Post subject: Re: Anyone want to hear my sad story
Posted: Thu Feb 23, 2012 7:45 am
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Joined: Thu Apr 16, 2009 1:44 pm
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Location: Liverpool UK
I originally used to fit in the entire heating system, but as I got older I let my son do the heavy work (he is a fully qualified plumber) and I just connect the gas from the meter to the boiler because in this country you have to take an extended and expensive course in order to work on gas. And you have to already be a qualified plumber to take the course.
I took that course years ago and carry an engineers card, which my son doesn't have.
He will be taking his own gas engineers course soon and then I will then probably consider retirement.
As I said earlier in this post I have always been interested in electronics and when the modern boilers came onto the market, which, like modern cars are almost entirely dependent on microchips, I found myself in an advantageous position, with not much competition and began to repair boilers. This suited me especially as I got too old to do heavy work.
Of course it wasn't long before the competition caught up but not everyone can take to electronics so it wasn't too bad, and by that time I had built up a good customer base with people passing my phone number around. I find this line of work far less strenuous. (and profitable)
Maybe when I do retire I will spend my time writing my entire life story and bore everybody to death.
I would love to have a go at writing a novel about two brothers working in the construction industry, travelling all over the UK and having lots of interesting and romantic adventures. Could I write that ?. Well me and my younger brother did just that after the Hi Cats disbanded and I can tell you that would be a much more interesting book than this thread, it's amazing how advantageous it is if you can play an instrument and as we in the uk say "Have the gift of the gab".


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