One Box Choir & Two Selwyn-Smiths Les Dancey October 2014
St Thomas à Becket Choir
I spent a lot of time in my childhood singing in Box choir. This photo dates from 1948 and I can recall the names of all the Choir members, who are left to right:
Back Row: Mrs Hayward, Mrs Bunting, John Smith (organist and choirmaster), Rev Lendon Bell, Ken Gillam, Mr Collett, Mr King
Middle row: Frances Cook, Mrs Browning (of Brownings Coaches), Miss Pritchard, Miss J Murray, Michael Cotterell, Roy Cotterell, Brian Murray, Alec Boyd, Mr Wright
Front row: Richard Ball, Philip Cotterell, David Collett, Roy Collett, Les Dancey, Philip Martin, Terry Swan, Michael Gover, Ernie King.
I remember I used to think that Mrs Bunting was a snitch because she would tell my mother when I bunked off choir practice to go roller skating at the Pavilion in Bath. Mr Collett was the father of David and Roy. Ernie King was living in Box still in 2004. Michael Cotterell lives in Spain and I am still in touch with him. Terry Swan I think is living in Devizes and is the son of the renowned Box teacher Bertie Swan. I think Philip Martin was living in Exeter the last I heard. Alec Boyd used to sing the choirboy solos before my time.
Joining the choir when I was very young was one of the best things that I have done in life for I used to stutter and lisp. My stutter did not present itself when I was singing and, after a while, it disappeared completely, however my lisp is still with me today. Some twelve or so years ago whilst working as a volunteer with the Red Cross I used to run a social evening for disabled people, wheeling their chairs into the Red Cross Ambulance which were strapped to the rails along the floor.
These people were in various stages of disablement but all were severe, indeed one could not talk and several could do nothing for themselves but one thing they could all do, was laugh. Every Friday evening, whilst driving them to the hall to meet up with those coming by other ambulances, the lady Red Cross worker, who was riding shotgun with me, used to get one of the more able of the group to ask me when the Great Fire of London was. After protesting for several minutes I would tell them that it was the theckond of theptember, thickthteen thickthty thickth and they all used to roll about laughing at me. It was wonderful !
When the vicar was unavailable, we used to have Cannon Morris, who lived just up from the cemetery, on the same side. A dear little old man and, when he wasn't available, the Padre from the RAF camp used to take a service. His sermons used to go on way beyond the usual twenty minutes and the only saving grace is that, where I lisp, he whistled when he pronounced his S's.
Until my voice broke I sang the soprano solos in church. I was studying Bel Canto until Elvis Presley made Heartbreak Hotel and then it all went to the wall because I was hooked on Rock and Roll. Unfortunately my voice went on down to baritone. By the way, Harry Seacombe also studied Bel Canto but he went to Italy to study. People might be interested to know that the laugh he gave in The Goon Show was a training exercise in those studies.
For most of my time in Box choir, the Rev Tom Selwyn-Smith was the vicar of St Thomas à Becket Church. Tom's father, the Rev Selwyn-Smith Senior, was the vicar at St Christopher's Church in Ditteridge.
I spent a lot of time in my childhood singing in Box choir. This photo dates from 1948 and I can recall the names of all the Choir members, who are left to right:
Back Row: Mrs Hayward, Mrs Bunting, John Smith (organist and choirmaster), Rev Lendon Bell, Ken Gillam, Mr Collett, Mr King
Middle row: Frances Cook, Mrs Browning (of Brownings Coaches), Miss Pritchard, Miss J Murray, Michael Cotterell, Roy Cotterell, Brian Murray, Alec Boyd, Mr Wright
Front row: Richard Ball, Philip Cotterell, David Collett, Roy Collett, Les Dancey, Philip Martin, Terry Swan, Michael Gover, Ernie King.
I remember I used to think that Mrs Bunting was a snitch because she would tell my mother when I bunked off choir practice to go roller skating at the Pavilion in Bath. Mr Collett was the father of David and Roy. Ernie King was living in Box still in 2004. Michael Cotterell lives in Spain and I am still in touch with him. Terry Swan I think is living in Devizes and is the son of the renowned Box teacher Bertie Swan. I think Philip Martin was living in Exeter the last I heard. Alec Boyd used to sing the choirboy solos before my time.
Joining the choir when I was very young was one of the best things that I have done in life for I used to stutter and lisp. My stutter did not present itself when I was singing and, after a while, it disappeared completely, however my lisp is still with me today. Some twelve or so years ago whilst working as a volunteer with the Red Cross I used to run a social evening for disabled people, wheeling their chairs into the Red Cross Ambulance which were strapped to the rails along the floor.
These people were in various stages of disablement but all were severe, indeed one could not talk and several could do nothing for themselves but one thing they could all do, was laugh. Every Friday evening, whilst driving them to the hall to meet up with those coming by other ambulances, the lady Red Cross worker, who was riding shotgun with me, used to get one of the more able of the group to ask me when the Great Fire of London was. After protesting for several minutes I would tell them that it was the theckond of theptember, thickthteen thickthty thickth and they all used to roll about laughing at me. It was wonderful !
When the vicar was unavailable, we used to have Cannon Morris, who lived just up from the cemetery, on the same side. A dear little old man and, when he wasn't available, the Padre from the RAF camp used to take a service. His sermons used to go on way beyond the usual twenty minutes and the only saving grace is that, where I lisp, he whistled when he pronounced his S's.
Until my voice broke I sang the soprano solos in church. I was studying Bel Canto until Elvis Presley made Heartbreak Hotel and then it all went to the wall because I was hooked on Rock and Roll. Unfortunately my voice went on down to baritone. By the way, Harry Seacombe also studied Bel Canto but he went to Italy to study. People might be interested to know that the laugh he gave in The Goon Show was a training exercise in those studies.
For most of my time in Box choir, the Rev Tom Selwyn-Smith was the vicar of St Thomas à Becket Church. Tom's father, the Rev Selwyn-Smith Senior, was the vicar at St Christopher's Church in Ditteridge.
Rev Tom Selwyn-Smith and Rev Selwyn-Smith Senior
At one time I used to serve at three local churches on a Sunday: Box, Ditteridge and Chapel Plaister. We had a communion service once a month at Chapel Plaister and the Rev Tom Selwyn-Smith would drive us up in his old WW2 RAF pick-up which had a canvas cover over the back. This was well before MOTs and it was not in roadworthy condition. He had to turn the steering wheel one and a half turns to change direction and keep it going straight.
He also had no antifreeze in it and used to empty the radiator out at night and fill it again in the morning. One Sunday morning we were on our way to Chapel Plaister and he had forgotten to fill the radiator, consequently the engine conked out and we began rolling back down the hill. Having no brakes, he had to back it up the bank to stop. Another time we were going up the Wellsway in Bath to a Guild service and an Austin Ruby overtook us. Tom had his driver window down and was slapping the side of the van just as if it were a horse to urge it on but to no avail.
Later on I was asked if I would serve at Ditteridge. So the service time at Chapel Plaister was changed to 7am so that I could do the 8am service at Ditteridge. I then would go on my motor-bike to Chapel Plaister for the 7am service and as soon as that was over I used to tear over to pick up Rev Selwyn-Smith Senior from his vicarage in his wheelchair. I would then wheel him the half mile to the vestry, which was just across the road from the Church, dress him in his robes and help him up to the church for him to conduct the service on crutches. What a marvellous man!
After the service we did the same in reverse and had no problem until one Sunday, Mr Benjamin, the verger, was in hospital and so I had to clear up after the service. Rev Selwyn-Smith Senior intimated that he would get back home on his own but I said that he was definitely not to try it. When I got back to the vestry he had gone, so I ran down the road and found him tipped up across the road, on a blind bend, still sitting in his chair, unhurt luckily. I picked them both up together and scolded him all the way back home.
I would then get on my motor bike and ride around to Box Vicarage and have breakfast with Tom Selwyn-Smith and serve for him in the 9.30 Sung Eucharist, be in the Choir for the 11am service, teach Sunday School in the afternoon and choir again in the evening.
Another thing Tom did was to start a boxing club in the upper rooms of the vicarage. He used to put on the gloves and want us to box him, you've got to be joking! He was a truly lovely man.
Christine Helps, as she was, used to play the organ when I took Sunday School and I am sure that she still lives in Box. Her parents, Charlie and Betty, also used to have a lot to do with the church. Her Mother used to arrange the flowers and her father was a Server at Communion, like me, but he was more involved than that, and they were all close to Tom.
I remember that when Tom came to the village he stuck a load of candles on the altar to have a higher service but was immediately told by the Shaw Mellors and the rest of the ruling class about what was, and what was not, acceptable in Box.
When I was young and in the choir we used to ring the bells at Box Church but they were deemed to be unsafe and so an electric system was put in which I assume is still in place today. This meant that just the clapper moved a short distance to the bell instead of the whole bell swinging. It was made possible for just one person to ring the changes by just plucking the strings, ending with the five minute bell. That done you had to rush down to proceed into the church with the choir for the service; so it tended to be us younger ones that did it. I look back with nostalgia to the bell ringing period with the dolly rising up and down, making sure that you kept hold of the tail.
At one time I used to serve at three local churches on a Sunday: Box, Ditteridge and Chapel Plaister. We had a communion service once a month at Chapel Plaister and the Rev Tom Selwyn-Smith would drive us up in his old WW2 RAF pick-up which had a canvas cover over the back. This was well before MOTs and it was not in roadworthy condition. He had to turn the steering wheel one and a half turns to change direction and keep it going straight.
He also had no antifreeze in it and used to empty the radiator out at night and fill it again in the morning. One Sunday morning we were on our way to Chapel Plaister and he had forgotten to fill the radiator, consequently the engine conked out and we began rolling back down the hill. Having no brakes, he had to back it up the bank to stop. Another time we were going up the Wellsway in Bath to a Guild service and an Austin Ruby overtook us. Tom had his driver window down and was slapping the side of the van just as if it were a horse to urge it on but to no avail.
Later on I was asked if I would serve at Ditteridge. So the service time at Chapel Plaister was changed to 7am so that I could do the 8am service at Ditteridge. I then would go on my motor-bike to Chapel Plaister for the 7am service and as soon as that was over I used to tear over to pick up Rev Selwyn-Smith Senior from his vicarage in his wheelchair. I would then wheel him the half mile to the vestry, which was just across the road from the Church, dress him in his robes and help him up to the church for him to conduct the service on crutches. What a marvellous man!
After the service we did the same in reverse and had no problem until one Sunday, Mr Benjamin, the verger, was in hospital and so I had to clear up after the service. Rev Selwyn-Smith Senior intimated that he would get back home on his own but I said that he was definitely not to try it. When I got back to the vestry he had gone, so I ran down the road and found him tipped up across the road, on a blind bend, still sitting in his chair, unhurt luckily. I picked them both up together and scolded him all the way back home.
I would then get on my motor bike and ride around to Box Vicarage and have breakfast with Tom Selwyn-Smith and serve for him in the 9.30 Sung Eucharist, be in the Choir for the 11am service, teach Sunday School in the afternoon and choir again in the evening.
Another thing Tom did was to start a boxing club in the upper rooms of the vicarage. He used to put on the gloves and want us to box him, you've got to be joking! He was a truly lovely man.
Christine Helps, as she was, used to play the organ when I took Sunday School and I am sure that she still lives in Box. Her parents, Charlie and Betty, also used to have a lot to do with the church. Her Mother used to arrange the flowers and her father was a Server at Communion, like me, but he was more involved than that, and they were all close to Tom.
I remember that when Tom came to the village he stuck a load of candles on the altar to have a higher service but was immediately told by the Shaw Mellors and the rest of the ruling class about what was, and what was not, acceptable in Box.
When I was young and in the choir we used to ring the bells at Box Church but they were deemed to be unsafe and so an electric system was put in which I assume is still in place today. This meant that just the clapper moved a short distance to the bell instead of the whole bell swinging. It was made possible for just one person to ring the changes by just plucking the strings, ending with the five minute bell. That done you had to rush down to proceed into the church with the choir for the service; so it tended to be us younger ones that did it. I look back with nostalgia to the bell ringing period with the dolly rising up and down, making sure that you kept hold of the tail.