I drove along the promenade at New Brighton the other day, so much a part of my youth, along with most Scousers of my generation. The magnificent art deco outdoor baths, where I’d learnt to swim and first plucked up the courage to hurl myself into space from the high board, have long since gone, along with the outdoor fun fair. Fort Perch Rock still looks impressive, but the other crowning glory, the pier, is no more.
I found a couple of old diaries recently and also a collection of treasures from my teenage years. Amongst the clutter, sorry, ‘treasures,’ a scruffy programme, dated 21st June 1962, from the Tower Ballroom.
In its heyday, long before my time, the Tower Ballroom was a real landmark as it originally featured a huge Tower modelled on the Eiffel Tower in Paris, completed in 1900. The Tower, at that time, was the highest structure in Britain, 567 feet high. NB. I looked this up – not even my ability to retain vast numbers of useless facts is up to the task of remembering the precise details of high buildings. I do have a faint recollection that George Harrison’s grandfather had been employed as a doorman at the original Tower, but don’t quote me on that!
One of the largest ballroom facilities on Merseyside, able to accommodate many thousands, I knew The Tower Ballroom best as a venue for that new phenomenon of the early sixties, ‘groups.’
Brian Epstein was the promoter of the event on 21 June 1962. Top of the bill was Bruce Channel – ‘Hey Baby’ for those with long memories – backed by Delbert McLinton and the Barons. The Beatles, second billing in those early days, were advertised as ‘Parlophone recording artistes.’ Bolton group, The Statesmen were next on the bill, followed by the Big Three and the Four Jays.
I remember The Big Three very well – until that point they’d ranked just below Rory Storm & the Hurricanes as my second favourite group; The Beatles having been my favourites from the first day I saw them at The Cavern Club. The Big Three were terrible that night. I know this because I wrote ‘rubbish’ next to their name in the programme. Nothing else, just that one word – ‘rubbish.’ Sad, really. They may have had an off night, perhaps the equipment was playing up, all that remains is my verdict, ‘rubbish.’
Many years later I read that Delbert McLinton encouraged John Lennon to play the harmonica by teaching him the passage from ‘Hey Baby.’ When the Beatles came to record ‘Love Me Do’, their first record to hit the charts, John Lennon played the harmonica riff. The harmonica lesson must have happened that evening. History in the making. I was there.
The bus to the Pier Head, the ferry cross the Mersey – to coin a phrase – the excitement mounting with every step along New Brighton Pier, then the bright lights of the Tower ballroom, the milling crowds. I remember it all so well.
All gone now. The The Tower Ballroom burnt down in 1969, replaced by a housing estate.
End of an era. Gone, but not forgotten.
Lovely to read this, it brought back many memories. We lived in Liverpool from when I was nine to when I was married. I loved the ferry boats. My great uncle designed the pier at new Birghton and my aunt was the first person to walk along it when it was opened, she was a little girl at the time.
Ah yes happy times in Merseyside, I too went to The Cavern but didn’t mix in such high society as yourself.
I’ve been to a few of the Beatles locations – John Lennon’s home, Penny Lane, the location of the Cavern Club. That’s when music was music.
Ha, my mum used to go to the cavern club at that time too, usually during her lunch hour. She was a clerk at Martin’s bank.
My dad was an Institute boy, eleven plus at nine. He just missed coinciding with Lennon and McCartney. I can’t imagine they’d have got on.