King's Lynn

Decorative doorway.

 

King's Lynn is the third largest town in Norfolk, after Norwich and Great Yarmouth. It was also the first of the five British towns to become members of the Hanseatic League, a highly influential medieval trading association consisting of towns around the Baltic and the North Sea. In the Middle Ages King's Lynn was the third most important port in England, bigger even than Liverpool. But in the Middle Ages Liverpool only faced the as yet unknown west, whereas King's Lynn was close to the country's trading partners of the Hanseatic League in Europe. In those days it was just known as Lynn, or Lin. But in 1101 Bishop Losinga, who founded Norwich Cathedral, founded St Margaret's Church in Lynn, and the town became known as Bishop's Lynn. In 1537 Henry Vlll took control of church matters and changed the name to King's Lynn. Locals usually call it by its original name of Lynn.

 

King's Lynn has changed almost out of recognition since I was a teenager at school there in the 1950s. Much of the old town has since been demolished and the majority of the shops either became different shops or met the bulldozer. Many famous names such as 'Dolcis' and 'Freeman, Hardy and Willis' have been long gone. I haven't dragged this up from memory, but from Vera Witt's excellent book 'King's Lynn Memories of the 1950s & 1960s.' Vera Witt was King's Lynn born and bred, and her street by street analysis and personal memories are accompanied by numerous atmospheric black and white photographs. An invaluable book for anyone interested in King's Lynn. But I never saw much of King's Lynn. The school was at Watlington and Runcton Holme and we were only allowed to go into King's Lynn on Saturday afternoons. (I think rather than write a new piece I shall extract the relevant bit about King's Lynn from my Watlington piece.)

 

..............Saturday was the highlight of the week. For a start Mrs Browne - our headmaster the Rev Charles Browne's wife - gave out our pocket money in the morning. We all had a set amount of ten shillings a week. After lunch those of us who wanted to caught the bus from just outside the Rectory and in my memory it was always on time.

 

Once in King's Lynn we converged on Wheeler's and Murdoch's record shops. Among the records I bought were Tennessee Ernie Ford's 'Sixteen Tons' and Perez Prado's 'Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White.' He recorded it again in 1959 for stereo, but it lacked the magic of the original HMV 78. We looked down our noses at the Eddie Calvert version, as much for his puke-making 'O mein Papa' record as for his not being Perez Prado. Other records I bought included Frankie Laine's 'Cool Water' and 'The Kid's Last Fight.' I got so obsessed by 'The Kid's Last Fight' that one late afternoon I played it ten times without a break. My room - or dormitory for three - was right next to the Browne sitting room and 'The Kid's Last Fight' was just coming to the end of its tenth play when my friend Oliver Campion came into the room laughing and said, 'Mrs Browne said if you play that record one more time she'll scream!'

 

'She doesn't like it too much then?'

 

'I'd say she doesn't like it at all.'

 

'Pity! I'd better give it a rest.'

 

'Why not test her with 'Cool Water'?'

 

'Are you trying to get me slung out?'

 

Oliver liked 'Cool Water.' It was just about his favourite record. We both also liked 'This Ole House' and 'Mambo Italiano' by Rosemary Clooney, aunt of the as yet unborn George Clooney. My American friend James Brann said he liked them too, but he never wanted to hear them. He liked The Four Aces and 'Music! Music! Music!' by Teresa Brewer, but I think 'Delicado' by Percy Faith was his favourite record. He only bought a few records but he never played them. He didn't have a record player for a start. But I remember he once asked me to play 'Delicado', which is probably why I think it was his favourite record. I also remember having 'Sh-Boom' by The Crew Cuts, 'Only You' by The Hilltoppers, 'Sincerely' by The McGuire Sisters, 'Mobile' by Ray Burns with the Eric Jupp Orchestra, and 'Dragnet' by Ray Anthony. Then later in 1955 Oliver and I were taken by a new kind of noise - 'Shake, Rattle and Roll' by Bill Haley and His Comets on a Brunswick 78, and we both hurried off to either Wheeler's or Murdoch's to buy it. This early rock 'n' roll record was described on the label as a 'Novelty Foxtrot.' But the term rock and roll wasn't new. The Boswell Sisters had a record called 'Rock and Roll' in 1934.

 

After the record shops, and sometimes before, we usually went to one of the three cinemas, the Majestic, The Pilot or the Theatre Royal. Sometimes we went as a group and sometimes I just went with James Brann and Oliver Campion. Some of the films I remember seeing were 'On The Waterfront', which made me think I was Marlon Brando, 'Mister Roberts', which made me think I was James Cagney, 'Bad Day At Black Rock', which made me think I was Spencer Tracey, 'Battle Cry', which made me think I was both Tab Hunter and Aldo Ray, 'I Am A Camera' - based on Christopher Isherwood's Berlin books which also inspired 'Cabaret', but which didn't make me think I was anyone in particular. I briefly thought I was Burt Lancaster and Gary Cooper after seeing 'Vera Cruz', but I soon forgot about them when I saw 'Brigadoon', because I fell madly in love with Cyd Charisse. I remember going with a group to see 'Deep In My Heart' - a seldom screened biopic of Sigmund Romberg, which had a whole host of famous guest stars - including Cyd Charisse! I also saw 'Rififi' with James and Oliver, which was definitely Oliver's choice. As far as I can remember there was a robbery scene lasting for about half an hour and conducted in silence, and the rest of the film was in French with English subtitles. My mind was full of dialogue from these films, except for 'Rififi', which I used to reiterate in the same tone of voice as the actors, pushing algebraic formulae and the less dramatic bits in Virgil's 'Aeneid' to the back of my mind or right out of it. 'Violent Saturday' briefly made me think I was Victor Mature. Reminds me of a funny story I heard Charlton Heston tell about him after being made a member of The All England Lawn Tennis Club. He said it was a great honour and that in America exclusive clubs had a snooty attitude towards actors. When Victor Mature tried to join one such club he was told 'We don't admit members of the acting profession.' To which Victor Mature replied, 'I'm no actor, and I've got 45 films to prove it!'

 

On the way back from King's Lynn there was always a local on the bus who imagined he was one of the American servicemen who rolled into King's Lynn when they were off duty. Every single time this joker would stand up at some point in the journey, ostentatiously take a packet of Camel or Lucky Strike from his pocket, and say to someone in a loud and really bad American accent, 'Got a light, mac?' I tried to persuade James to go and have a chat with him about the homeland, but James was a bit shy about talking to strangers and said he didn't come from his homeland anyway..............

 

Sixty years have passed since then, so it's not surprising that it's changed. I don't know exactly how much has changed, although Vera Witt's excellent book gives a good idea. But we rarely saw anything but Wheeler's and Murdoch's record shops, and the Pilot, Theatre Royal and Majestic cinemas. Of those five institutions only the Majestic Cinema remains. I don't know how I managed to smoke, buy records and pay for cinema tickets on ten shillings a week, but I did. I think I had more Frankie Laine records than the rest put together. I had 18, all on blue label Philips 78s. Now I have 55 on two Retrospective CDs, which includes all his hits and some of his jazz numbers. And of course 'The Kid's Last Fight' is there, with words and music by Bob Merrill.

 

'Said the tiger, scowlin' "Don't you know you're through?

I can whip you just like a child.

I'm gonna take the fight and take your woman too.'

When he heard that the Kid went wild.

Said the Kid, "For that I'll tear you limb from limb,"

And he sprang like an angry colt -

He sent a punch a flyin' at the tiger's chin,

Knocked him out like a thunderbolt!'

 

I can't think why Mrs Browne didn't like it. Perhaps it was just hearing it ten times without a break.

 

 

 

Done