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Box Church Choir, 1948: Little Angels - or Not? Les Dancey August 2018 I have been misjudged all my life both now and as a little boy. I was constantly being thrown out of the choir by the choirmaster. I couldn't go home so would sit in the front of the church so that, when the Rev Lendon Bell came to sort the places in the bible for the scripture readings for that day, he would see me there and ask why I was there. |
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Thomas à Becket choir, 1948 - 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.
Mr Wright Front row: Richard Ball, Philip Cotterell, David Collett, Roy Collett, Les Dancey, Philip Martin, Terry Swan, Michael Gover, Ernie King.
I was Rev Lendon Bell's blue eyed boy and so he would tell me to go back in the choir. I used to sit the opposite side to the organ and the choirmaster would be idly looking in the mirror and then notice me grinning back up to him and the reaction was so, so good! I would have great difficulty in not sniggering out loud.
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We boys, besides crossing our eyes at one another across the aisle, would catch someone's eye and quickly look away. Little things please little minds but it helped us struggle through a twenty minute sermon. Occasionally we had the pastor from the RAF camp take the service and it was of great amusement to us boys because he whistled every time he said an 'S'. I remember, one time in particular, when we took our surplices home to be washed, Mike Cotterell and I got up on the wall at the top of the slip which joins the Market Place with the Ley. We were sweet on a couple of the choir girls who lived at Boxfields and knew they would be walking up this unlit path. With our surplices on, we jumped down from the wall as they came up. Not a very nice thing to do, but we thought it was funny at the time. We ended up walking the girls home, as we usually did and they forgave us. I have lost contact with Mike now but he was living down Fuengirola way in Spain, with his beloved cats, about ten years ago. He worked for Austin Reed the clothiers in Bath and I always used to buy my suits through him. Left: Les in chorister vestments |
I still vividly remember when we performed John Stainer's oratorio, The Crucifixion. I sang the part of Mary when she was approached by Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane (this was before my voice broke) and I often sing it to myself in my mind.
Out of all the solos that I sang, this one will stay with me until I die. It was such an ambitious work for the choir to take on and was a resounding success.
One thing we liked to do as children was to go to The Pavillion at Bath on a Friday evening for the roller skating. I was the only member of the gang that went to church, but they accepted this and I chose whether to go along with them or not. One problem
I had was that Friday evening was Choir practice night. Unfortunately, my mother worked in Bence’s shop in the Market Place and she would soon find out that I had bunked off choir practice. Mrs Bunting announce as soon as she went into the shop that Leslie was not at choir practice last Friday evening. My parents were Victorian and my mother certainly did not spare the rod if I stepped out of line. I remember, at one time I was having a cup of tea with the guys in Boulton's Cafe in The Parade when one of the lads came rushing in, saying my mother was on the warpath looking for me with her boiler stick. This was the implement she used to get the washing out of the boiler to put into the mangle, a stick about 18 inches long and 1½ inches thick. I made a rapid exit and ran around the long way home and was sat down all innocence like when she got back.
Out of all the solos that I sang, this one will stay with me until I die. It was such an ambitious work for the choir to take on and was a resounding success.
One thing we liked to do as children was to go to The Pavillion at Bath on a Friday evening for the roller skating. I was the only member of the gang that went to church, but they accepted this and I chose whether to go along with them or not. One problem
I had was that Friday evening was Choir practice night. Unfortunately, my mother worked in Bence’s shop in the Market Place and she would soon find out that I had bunked off choir practice. Mrs Bunting announce as soon as she went into the shop that Leslie was not at choir practice last Friday evening. My parents were Victorian and my mother certainly did not spare the rod if I stepped out of line. I remember, at one time I was having a cup of tea with the guys in Boulton's Cafe in The Parade when one of the lads came rushing in, saying my mother was on the warpath looking for me with her boiler stick. This was the implement she used to get the washing out of the boiler to put into the mangle, a stick about 18 inches long and 1½ inches thick. I made a rapid exit and ran around the long way home and was sat down all innocence like when she got back.