Last updated 12:26, Friday, 23 May 2008

YOUR article relating to the Palace Ballroom at Maryport (Times & Star, May 16) brought back many memories about the role that this soon-to-be-demolished place had in the Maryport of 50 or so years ago.

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Jim McTear, of Workington’s Cumberland Hotel, remembers the heyday of Maryport’s Palace Ballroom and its place in the town’s rich history...

For me, the Palace Ballroom was a wonder world, in what was then a busy port and a lively town with all of the ingredients to make it a great place to live, work hard and to enjoy yourself.

It certainly seemed that way to me, a boy of 10 years old in 1956.

My days were spent at Ellenborough Junior School, where John Walsh and I, and I think just three other pupils, passed our 11-plus exams together, and I stole his first half pint of school milk.

My early evenings were spent on the 'docks', watching the Kelly boats coming into Maryport for their load of coal bound for Ireland.

But from eight o'clock in the evening onwards, my entire life centred on The Palace Ballroom.

I had learned to play the trombone, on an old and very battered Selmer instrument, at a band room above the Commercial Inn, Dearham from the age of seven, doing so to avoid going to Sunday School, at St Mungo's Mission Room.

I now had a bright new 'bone' however, bought by my father, Percy McTear as a special Christmas present from Dias's at Carlisle.

I remember receiving the present on Christmas Day as if it were yesterday. I remember too the way my mother cried, because the purchase of the trombone had used up all of their savings, and she was 'short' on the housekeeping.

That trombone, however, was my means of escape from the 'poor' days, and I was determined not to lose my escape route.

My dad was the drummer, and his pride and joy were his set of Premier drums, then as good as it got, and his Zinzanillian cymbals, added up to be 'worth' many, many weeks wages.

Len Conway played a fantastic trumpet, better than many full professionals. Alf Hodgson, (a stout member of the Salvation Army in Maryport), wore a silver wig, which often fell off while we were playing, but was just grand on 'sax'.

Always reliable, always so quiet, Stanley Oliver, an electrician by trade, was at the piano. Everybody needed Stan, because he could fix things electrical that nobody else understood.

David played double bass, bought with the money he had saved up for an engagement ring. He was now a free man again due to his dedication to music making at The Palace.

Then there was me on the trombone, sitting behind my plywood music stand, rising only to show off my slide skills when called upon to do so in Change Partners or High Society.

I loved it completely.

We were the 'warm up' band, and played at The Palace almost every week, and sometimes several times in a single week.

We would play for the first hour or so, then the main attraction would come on stage, having run through the often densely populated dance floor, from the dressing room which we all shared.

The star attraction would play for an hour or so, and we, The John Conway Seven, would finish with a respectful rendition of the National Anthem.

After that we only had to wait for Cyril Martin, The Palace’s owner and promoter, or our agent, to pay us our dues. The men all received about £1 10s. I received a massive 'ten bob' note, for every session. I was the richest lad at school.

And who did we support on those wonderful nights?

The Ivy Benson All Girls Band, wonderful just to be next to, because you never saw a woman in Maryport wearing “classy clothes and perfume”, let alone blowing a trombone or sweeping over a set of drums.

Don Lang, of Six Five Special fame, a very early TV spectacular music programme, and his band.

Chris Barber and his wife, Ottelly Pattinson, with his Jazz Band (Chris is still playing with a wonderful Jazz and Blues Band and stayed with us here at The Cumberland Hotel recently).

Wee Willie Harris, all red hair and jumping on the piano top as he played; Nancy Whiskey, with her chart topping "Last train to San Fernando"; Johnny Duncan and the Blue Grass Boys; Kenny Ball and his Jazz Men

Super nice man Eric Delaney, with his priceless Premier drum kit, twice as many as my dad had, but which Eric always let my dad use when we were playing together, and which Percy thought was magic.

Acker Bilk, with his signature miniature bottle of whisky in his waistcoat pocket or pockets, which ever the night demanded.

John Dankworth and Cleo Lane, and their band, well before they were married and the big success story and musical inspiration to so many.

Lonnie Donegan and his Skiffle Group; Ian Menzies and The Clyde Valley Stompers Jazz Band; Vince Eager, Adam Faith, and then the new smaller guitar-led groups.

We usually played as supporting band at Maryport Palace Ballroom on one night, followed by a night at Carlisle Market Hall, and rounding the tour off with a night at Dumfries Drill Hall, larger than The Palace by some measure.

We travelled using a single decker bus with the drivers position sticking out on the front offside, complete with a steering wheel that just about touched the windows and a huge ratchet hand brake. The wiper often fell off in heavy rain.

The Palace Ballroom of course was more than just a dance and music room and its very being kept other businesses very much alive and thriving.

Harold Brown's Fish and Chip Shop was filled time and time again both before, at half time and after every dance session. His product has never been matched, and his extra scratchings for a penny were more than enough to fill the energy needs of a dance couple due to return to the fray at The Palace.

Cueto's Fish and Chips were an alternative, but a longer walk away from The Palace, with Clem, Phillip and the gorgeous Louise on hand.

On most nights, a row would break out between them.

Mother Cueto was always there, sitting on what many people insisted, in secret of course, was a commode in disguise, and it would be she who would tell them all: "Shut up, the people are here."

Pop Underwood was always on hand to pull pints at The Sun Inn, on the top corner of Wood Street, filled to capacity any night of the week, with people going to or coming from The Palace.

The bar in The Palace was upstairs, accessed by one of two winding staircases.

Often we would play for a dance from 8pm until 11pm, returning after a drink to play at a midnight to 4am dance.

This was the era of hard work, and many of the dancers would be employed at Wharton's Phoenix Foundry, over the little bridge across the harbour on the dock side.

Percy McTear was the blacksmith there for over 27 years, along with his striker, Jimmy Dockerty, working alongside many of the men who have made major contributions to West Cumbria, one way or the other, over many years.

Leading them all was Jack Wharton himself, every inch a gentleman in how he looked, what he did for the town and how he treated his workforce.

In the machine shop were Ike Southward, a fitter and turner of repute, who went on to be the highest transfer fee paid in rugby league at £15,000 in those days.

Alvin Ackerlay and his younger brother Terry also worked at Wharton's, both now sadly passed away at tragically young ages.

Alf Boyd, as works manager, kept everything in check, and knew every worker and his shortcomings only too well, but was renowned for being fair and always courteous without ever losing his authority.

These men all (except Mr Alf Boyd) 'supped' a few beers at lunchtime in The Queen's Head pub, just a short walk back over the bridge, a most enjoyable tavern with Charlie and Lizzy Atherton behind the bar.

A few beers at dinner time would set you up for later in the day, when The Palace would call you.

The Queen's Head pub has been, for some years now, the Maritime Museum, and has shown a naval officer’s (Captain’s) uniform which once belonged to me while at sea.

I was, in fact, a Chief Engineer Officer.

"Same number of rings on the sleeve Douglas, so who would know the difference?" was Annie Robinson's way of meeting the museum’s requirement for a naval uniform with gold rings attached.

It was commandeered by Annie Robinson, then a school headmistress and magistrate of Maryport, and a great friend of my grandmother Annie Maud McTear, who taught at Dearham School until her retirement. They attended university together to qualify as teachers.

The Palace Ballroom, Maryport, has a rich part to play in Maryport's recent history. The days of steam trains passing through a magnificent railway station, now little more than an imitation bus shelter, goods wagons and guards vans parked all around the two main docks at Maryport, coal wagons being tipped 'upside down' into the coal loading chute on the dock wall and scrambling down in to the SS Mevagissy.

Those were the days of the likes of Bob Fisher heading out of the harbour on his traditional fishing boat, without his GPS system/mobile phone/hi-vis lifejacket/second man/radio certificate/notification to coastguard etc) to catch plaice and skate.

You could buy 12 freshly caught plaice on a wire for one shilling or a pint jug of shrimp for a tanner.

Why haven't these excellent measures been used throughout the EU? They worked, and they did not involve the local authority, the state or 28 inspectors.

The Palace was a vital part and very much parcel of how Maryport functioned and how the people of Maryport let off steam. Our towns and our social lives and community spirit are much the worse for not having similar venues and activities today.

Maryport has a rich history, and it needs to be preserved and amplified to the young who perhaps will never know what a great place little Maryport has been.

JIM McTEAR

The Cumberland Hotel

Workington

nPEOPLE with memories, stories and photographs of the Palace Ballroom, later the Civic Hall, on Lower Church Street, are being asked to share them for an exhibition being held to mark the end of its life.

Couples who married after meeting at the Palace are also being asked to share their memories and win tickets to the last-ever concert in the Civic Hall.

The exhibition will run from Saturday, June 21, to the following Friday.

People are asked to drop mementoes into the Civic Hall or the Times & Star office in Senhouse St, Maryport All items must be marked with the owner’s name and return address, and entries will be accepted up to the Monday before the exhibition starts.