January
1976
Around this time, I feel like a ‘car project’ will be quite
fun and I have always liked the Austin-Healey ‘frog-eye’ Sprite, probably
because it was my brother’s first sports car back in 1966. But I don’t just buy
one ‘frog-eye’ Sprite, I buy a whole family – 3 of them!!
'Frog-eye' Sprite and donor car |
The next Sprite I buy is a test of my trust in someone who
has started restoring it but has got tired of it. The car is literally in bits
– engine and chassis in one piece, but interior trim, gauges, bonnet and doors
all in bits and about 10 boxes of parts that all fit somewhere on the car! But
I can tell the car is in absolute mint condition with no rust on it, due to it always
having lived in the Transvaal where it is warm and dry (mostly) and never on
the coast. And it has a very rare hardtop (as well as a soft-top). So I put
down R450 and the car is mine (I still have the receipts which show what I paid
for the car, including a towing charge to get the chassis and bits back to
Tyrone – R25).
I soon realise that some parts are missing, so I also buy a
‘donor’ car – basically a wreck – for some parts, and I start rebuilding the
car. Luckily the courtyard in front of the house is huge and can accommodate at
least 10 cars, so my 3 cars (the Mini + 2 Sprites) don’t take up too much
space! The car is a glorious cream 1958 Mk.I ‘frog-eye’ Sprite and after many
hours and weeks of sweat and toil, the car is almost ready for its first
outing. One thing is missing that I have not been able to find anywhere in the
car scrapyards around Joburg – the 4 original hubcaps for the car; the previous
owner never had them and they are the only item that is missing, so I have to
be thankful. One day after another fruitless search, Bryan says to me “howzit
yo, why don’t you try the factory man, they built them in Cape Town man”! This
is like a lightbulb moment, but I think to myself surely they won’t have any
items left in stock, they stopped making the car 15 years ago.
So I call them on the phone and get through to the spares
department and tell them what I want. “Well
….”, someone says on the other end,” it
so happens we do have 4 brand new hubcaps….and they are the last ones in the factory!!!” Well, you could have
knocked me down with a feather. I tell him “put them in a parcel and I will post
you a cheque for the parts and rail freight, thanks” – the cost, R40. I am so
excited, the car is finished. The first drive in the car is great – hood down,
wind in the hair, a ‘good as new’ red leather interior and new cream duco
exterior – the car looks perfect, and in fact later in the year, it gets a
second place in the Austin-Healey Concours (the winner had his car towed to the
event which is a bit like cheating at cards, but I’m not bitter….I hold no
grudges!). I keep the car in the garage at Roman next door, as Richard is using
the big garage at Tyrone to build his racing car, and the Sprite is a treasured
possession for sunny days and Sundays for the next 2 years.
The military situation in Angola and Rhodesia at this time
is deteriorating and I hear more young South Africans are being conscripted
into the South African Defence Force (SADF). The draft is for all white males over
the age of 18, mostly young men who have just finished school, and is for 12
months service. The SADF are regularly launching cross-border raids on militant
ANC bases in neighbouring countries, and it also supports guerrilla groups in Angola
(UNITA), Mozambique (RENAMO) and Namibia, in an attempt to bring down the Marxist
governments in those countries.
Angola and Mozambique have only recently gained
independence (in 1975) and the South African government views the Marxist
governments there as a threat. Mozambique has also allowed ‘Umkhonto we Sizwe’ (the
militant wing of the ANC) to establish military bases there and SADF troops are
being sent to the borders to fight against the insurgency. The SADF is also getting
more active alongside the Security Forces in Rhodesia (Zimbabwe) during their
liberation war, and fighting a counter-insurgency against SWAPO rebels in
South-West Africa (Namibia).
We have 2 or 3 guys in the OK Stores computer department
that are drafted this month and we are all sad to see them go, so young, about
21. And there are reports in the paper this month that the South African Army,
in support of the UNITA and FNLA alliance, is defeated by the Angolan People’s
Army which is bad news. Militant ANC guerrilla movements are also becoming more
common within South Africa, so the situation is definitely getting more
dangerous both within and outside South Africa’s borders.
We are only getting snippets in the Rand Daily Mail of the worsening situation around South Africa’s
borders, but we feel the noose is tightening against apartheid. We wish them good
luck, and expect to see them fit and well in 12 months’ time.
Johnno, Rosie and I go to a party at Cyril’s Six in
Highlands North where we meet Gayle and her friend Julia, who are from
Bristol in England. They are both dressed in tight fitting black and white luminous-painted
skeleton outfits, so that the strobe lighting makes them appear ghost-like,
moving in rhythm with the music. Apart from Rosie (of course), Gayle and Julia
are the most attractive girls at the party and everyone wants to dance with
them. Johnno tells me “I’m going to ask
Julia to dance”. I wish him luck! The girls, both attractive blondes, share
a room in the house and I expect there is a queue of guys knocking down their
door! We don’t see him for the rest of the night. We know what he got up to!
Camping - St Lucia |
After a drive of about 7 hours, we reach our destination
and drive a short way up the coast to an isolated part of the beach where we
find a perfect spot to erect the tent. There is a flat area of elevated sand
dune for the tent, and we lug all the equipment up to it for 180 degree views
up and down the coast. As the sun disappears behind us, the beer and wine come
out and someone gets a campfire started for dinner. It’s another perfect
setting, looking over the Indian Ocean at dusk, alone on an isolated beach in
KwaZulu-Natal. Intoxicating.
Julia has some sort of wide-eyed innocence which is divine,
and is so perfectly dressed that some of us are wondering how she will get on
‘rough camping’, on a remote beach beside the ocean. As the beer and wine flow,
it seems her innocence is growing and her beautiful blond hair is even more
luminous in the light of the fire. At some point in the evening, she declares she’s
going to change for bed and re-appears around the campfire a minute later wearing
a slinky lingerie number! Everyone is transfixed by this and Julia doesn’t seem
to realise the effect she is having, dressed in a skimpy wisp of silk while
everyone else are still in their dirty jeans and T-shirts!
As the fire dies down, we all decide to call it a night and
head for the sleeping bags. Although it’s a large tent, it is still small
enough to touch the couple next to you and as the bedtime talk dies away, we
are left with the sound of the ocean outside and pitch blackness inside the
tent. But wait, there is movement in the tent, and two of our number are
enjoying each other’s company in a double sleeping bag! It’s clear that we are
all awake at this point, while Johnno and his new friend entertain all of us in
the tent with a kind of horizontal dance-song!! In the pitch black, our
imaginations are running in overdrive!! In the morning, Julia is still looking
perfect with not a hair out of place! How does she do it?
We spend 2 nights on the coast, and by Sunday morning on
the second day we all feel we know each other a whole lot better! Well done
Julia; camping with style!!
Alec Spiller (Gasworks), who works with John S. at A.C.Nielsen and is often to be found at Tyrone, has untamed desires on someone he
has met at work who is living alone in a cottage in Parktown, and decides to introduce
her to Milner Loo as a new recruit to the communal house scene. Her name is Pat
Myhill and she will become a leading light in the communal scene, editing the
communal ‘Houseletter’ and living in a number of houses including Tyrone (from July
1977), and breaking numerous hearts along the way!! Pat is lonely in her cottage,
and she only has an ‘ugly little
charismatic bastard’ for company (Pat’s words!), and she needs to
appreciate what life has to offer. However, Alec has designs of his own with
Pat, and believes he can most easily achieve his plan by having Pat join Milner
Loo, where Alec is also going out with one of the house members (no names!). Alec
figures he can “kill two birds with one
stone” if he has both his ‘objects of desire’ in the same place – good plan
Alec, everyone is impressed by that one! Needless to say, Pat is accepted by Milner
Loo and it doesn’t take long for Alec to achieve his objective!!
February
1976
Johnno sometimes plays tennis at Jubilee Road in Parktown, with
Peter and Tony, and he hears they are having a mega-party on the weekend. Jubilee
Road is a lovely single-storey home, set in large treed surroundings with
tennis court and pool. Rosie and I pick up Freks from Parktown (Gail Road), and
we meet Johnno at the party with Julia by his side. There are masses of people
and everyone is having a good time in the house and gardens, which are decked
out with lanterns.
As the party gets into full swing, we notice groups of
individuals slipping away into the darkness and someone says there are people
on the tennis court enjoying a puff, so the 5 of us go off to investigate. We
manage to lose Johnno and Julia on the way, but when we get down to the tennis
court a group of about 15 people have congregated in the middle and someone has
a joint. Rosie rolls a ‘5-stacker’ (5 rollie papers stuck together to form a
long thick joint, about 5 times the size of a normal cigarette) and we join the
happy throng. This is massive, as we have 2 joints circulating the group, and
the atmosphere is laid back. Someone sits down, and we all sit down in a
circle. On the tennis court, the mood is relaxed, the lighting is benign and
the music thump, thumps in the background.
To give the joint lasting effect, we notice that couples
are inhaling the smoke from their partners by locking their lips on their
partner as they exhale, thus creating a sort of longer lasting effect as the
joint is inhaled and exhaled a number of times before the smoke is finally
dispersed completely. It must substantially increase the effects of the joint,
because after a couple of tokes we are all smashed, and the tennis court begins
to move ever so slowly! I am sharing my smoke, and my lips, with Rosie, which
is more pleasant than I care to admit, and Freks is on the opposite side with a
friend.
Someone shows me how to create a roach clip out of 2
matches, to hold the final burning embers of the joint without burning your lips
(or fingers) – take 2 matches from your matchbox which have already been used
(obviously!) and hold them together like a pair of tweezers with the end of the
joint between them, and make a sucking motion about 1 or 2 mm from the tip to
draw the smoke across the gap without actually touching it; brilliantly simple
and effective, no burnt lips and no wastage!
After what seems like an age, but is probably only 15
minutes, the circle breaks up and slowly moves off into the darkness, led back
to the house and the music by the lanterns on the path. On the way back to the
party, we notice Freks has fallen into a flower bed behind the house, enjoying
the moment with someone she has met and having her our own private party!
When we leave, around 2am, I am still pleasantly stoned –
good enough to drive, but maybe at only 10mph, so we drop off Freks and make
our way back to Tyrone, but slowly!
John and Michele wedding |
That leaves them just over a week to find a priest who will
marry them without the usual palaver which accompanies Catholic weddings (in
those days, reading the banes and undertaking religious instruction etc), and
to find a dress, ring, etc. They find a
gorgeous Irish priest who agrees to officiate the ceremony in the garden at Tyrone. It is the first time he has married anyone
outside a church, and although there is much that isn’t ‘usual’ about their
wedding, he agrees to do it. The only
complication is that as Michele is under 21, she is still considered a minor in
South Africa and needs her parent’s written permission to marry. He gives them the paperwork and explains that
both parents have to complete the form – in less than a week!!
John is at work the next day explaining his dilemma to his
work colleagues, that it will take about 5 weeks to get a letter to NZ, for Michele’s
parents to complete the documentation and then to post it back. At this point, Pat Myhill says “here, give it to me”. She promptly fills
in the form on behalf of Michele’s mother and another guy fills it in as proxy
for her Dad. On the day of the wedding
Father Leatham arrives at Tyrone early for the ceremony. He requests to see the bride and groom and
then asks if their parents have filled in the forms. Michele doesn’t want to lie to a member of
the clergy, so just hesitates a moment and doesn’t say anything, and the priest
thinks he smells a rat! The lovely man
then says in his delightful Irish lilt, “don’t
worry now, your Mum has spelt your name incorrectly and your father has put
down the wrong birth date……but I have fixed it up”! So not only does he agree to marry a
non-catholic and a catholic together, outside of a consecrated church and
without reading the banes or making them undertake the usual religious
instruction, but he also helps them correct their paperwork!! Are they properly
married we all wonder? We still have no idea!!
Postscript: They
never did have a honeymoon, as Michele had to work the following day. But when they did decide to take a
‘honeymoon’ trip to Swaziland some months later, John was speeding en route and
went over a speed trap. An Afrikaans cop
jumped up out of a ditch some distance down the road and flagged them
down……issuing them with a R350 speeding ticket – a sizeable fine in those days –
so they just did a U-turn and spent the next few hours driving at the legal
limit back to Tyrone, as they couldn’t afford a huge speeding fine and a
holiday – their honeymoon was over!
The bride - Michele |
Bryan setting up Roulette |
The final week of the month brings news that Richard is
moving out and vacating his room. I think we all breathe a sigh of relief, as
Richard has not been an active member of the household – in fact, in the 6
months I have been in the house, I think I have seen him twice, once on the way
back from the bathroom and once when he showed me the racing car that he is
building in the garage! To say he is a recluse, is an understatement.
Notoriously private, he keeps the garage doors locked. He has been building an
open-wheel racing car for the past 2 years and he machines most of the parts
himself – even down to the nuts and bolts. He tells me he hopes to race it one
day in a ‘Specials’ category, and I think to myself that by the time it is
completed, regulations will have changed and the world will have moved on to something
different – he will just miss the boat as far as racing it is concerned (we
never do hear what happened to his racing dreams after he left, as he never
spoke to his housemates again!).
On the news the garage is being vacated, Bryan W. immediately tells everyone that he has big
plans for the garage as an entertainment area with bar and darts, music and regular Bar Nights etc, and
everyone agrees that the garage should be converted into something BIG, as it
is huge – at least 6 cars worth!
Paul Overton |
March
1976
Shortly afterwards, Bryan W. returns from a holiday in Rhodesia with 2 English
hitchhikers, Keith and Julie, who are apparently travelling through Africa,
hitch-hiking their way to the southern tip of Cape Town. They tell us they have
an aunt who lives in Durban, and they are making for there as soon as they have
spent a few days in Joburg. We welcome them in – they are actually quite fun, with
their stories of Big Game hunting and meeting rebels in the Rhodesian conflict.
Their personalities are larger than life, and match Bryan in a way, and I can
see why he likes them so much. However, they always complain of having no
money, and the idea of asking them to pay some rent for using the lounge, or to
pay for food, is left unsaid; and certainly isn’t volunteered by them!
They sleep in the lounge and consequently we are always
stepping over their stuff or simply unable to use the lounge because they are
sleeping in it (the term 'couch-surfing' must have been invented by these 2 travellers!). But it’s OK, as we assume they will be leaving in a couple of
days. Well, the days turn into weeks, and there is no mention of their aunt in
Durban or when they may move on. I don’t think they want to leave, and perhaps
the lounge will become a permanent bedroom making 9 bedrooms in all – there are
already 10 of us in the house, and 12 makes eating around the dining table a
bit of a squeeze. However, we are planning a big party in a couple of weeks and
Keith assures us they will leave after that.
Janus and Michele behind the Bar |
After about 2 weeks of feverish labour, the Bar is ready
for unveiling at a huge mega-party that we want to have to celebrate its
opening. Bryan announces the idea over dinner, “yessus man, it’s going to be one crazy party, man, the likes of which
you okes have never seen!” Everyone likes the idea and we get into serious
planning mode.
100 dozen beers for the Party! |
The night of the party is an absolute blast. There are so
many people that we start to run out of tickets by about 11pm and we have to do
a mad scramble to rescue used tickets from the Bar, and the 500 cups are
exhausted by mid-night so we tell people to find a used cup and wash it out!
Luckily, the beer and alcohol is keeping pace and the only problem is keeping
the beers cold (there’s a big bath beside the bar, full of ice, that’s
continually being restocked from our supplies). Someone tells me that the
parked cars extend all the way down the lane to the main road – approx. 500
yards!
The music pumps out of the lounge and everyone is spilling
onto the lawns outside – it’s simply the biggest party I’ve ever seen. We are
all racing around making sure the party goes smoothly – with 3 of us at all
times behind the bar on shifts, maybe another 3 going around selling tickets
and the others re-stocking and banking cash! So, we are all exhausted by the
end of the night, which is nearly 4am, but everyone has had a good time. It is
simply awesome!
Estimates put the number of people at around 1,000. It
seems the word has got around that Tyrone has the best Bar in Joburg, and
everyone wants to see it. Somehow, everyone at the party appears to be from the
communal house scene and it shows how well the ‘grapevine’ is working –
everyone seems to know someone else at the party and it’s a great success.
Tyrone’s bar is on the map, and we announce that we’ll be having weekly Bar
Nights in the garage from now on.
The next day is a huge clean-up, and we collect 2 large
containers of rubbish that a haulage contractor will eventually take away. We
calculate the finances and logistics – at least 700 soft drinks and spirits
consumed, and about 1,000 beers (there is only a small quantity to return). We
are making about 60-70 cents on each drink, so that’s about R1200 profit;
deduct R200 for the DJ and we have about R1000 profit. We are about to crack
out the champagne before Bryan reminds us he has not been paid for the bar
facilities and to stock the bar, which will take another R500. A groan goes up,
and we realise we have made about R50 per housemate – maybe just one month’s rent –
not bad, but not a goldmine!
Two days later, while we are all still struggling with
hangovers, Keith and Julie finally tell us they are packing their things in the
lounge and leaving for Cape Town (their aunt in Durban never did materialise). As well, David Forrest tells us he is moving out to go back to the UK.
Crikey, that means another round of interviews and new faces,
our third new housemate in 6 months. However, within a week we have found a
lovely English girl called Maggie who wants to move in. She is a delight to be
with - whimsical, a lovely sense of humour and a Manchester accent that is
endearing.
Bryan and Maggie |
Mike Sterne takes over as Treasurer from David Forrest, one
of the most important jobs in the house. The Treasurer has to ensure the rent
is collected and paid, pay the bills and the servants, and ensure there is a small
profit at the end of the month. Mike starts his new role by asking us all for
an increase in the ‘float’ since the kitty is empty. “The profit from the party has gone on essential repairs to the plumbing,
and I want everyone to put in R5 to top-up the kitty” Mike says confidently,
and since we all believe in Mike’s financial whiz, the money is paid over
without complaint. However, we are spending far more on things like repairs and
food than we realise, and this becomes Mike’s plea at the end of most months,
that the kitty is empty and the larder is bare!
April
1976
A few days after the party, we lose all electricity to the
house for almost a week. Some of us suspect the party has finally caused the
system to collapse. The house is slowly crumbling around us – the tennis court
is full of rubbish, mainly beer cans, the roof has holes so that when it rains
we have to run around with buckets and the guttering on one wall has fallen
off. So the idea that the electricity has finally given up, comes as no
surprise to many of us. The problem is traced to a breakdown in the wiring
outside the house, inside a maintenance pit (about 200 yards from the house) mid-way
between the house and the main road. On inspection of our rental agreement,
Mike informs us that we are responsible for all maintenance of the property and
we will have to pay for the repairs, which will cost up to R500-R600.
Fortunately, Bryan W. has trained as an electrical
technician in Rhodesia and he swears he can repair the problem himself, so
everyone else takes a step back and says “OK, there’s enough electricity going
through that pit to fry your little ass, so good luck, we’re right behind you …
at 20 paces!” No one is sure where the transformers are located, but we all
suspect that the power coming into the property from the street is at least
12,000volts! Bryan is not worried!
Bryan makes a call and gets the power disconnected and then
he starts digging around the pit. After about 30 mins, he has unearthed a whole
bunch of wires and says with some satisfaction “yessus, there it is…see there, the wires are broken, man”. Everyone
is sceptical, but keen for him to proceed. We have to fix the problem if we are
to continue living in Tyrone.
Bryan gets some wire cutters to repair the broken
connections, and prepares to cut the wires while Paul holds them steady for him.
Everyone draws a deep breath as he cuts, hoping that the energy company has
done as instructed. The cut is clean, and to our amazement, Bryan and Paul are
still with us! Bryan welds the loose connections together, and places the wires
back inside the pit and we walk back to the house to phone the energy company
to turn the power back on. This they do within about 1 hour, and hey presto,
the lights and power come back on. Rosie screams with delight “now I can wash and dry my hair” and
disappears for a long shower. Well done Bryan and Paul, we are all in awe of
your skill and bravery!
Whatever Bryan has achieved fixing the electricity, we are
still constantly reminded of the growing maintenance problems at Tyrone. We
can’t afford to fix the holes in the roof and every time it rains we run around
with buckets upstairs to catch the drips – fortunately, the water is only
coming in along the long passage that connects all the bedrooms – none in the
bedrooms themselves. We can’t afford to fix the problem, and the owner doesn’t
want to get involved – he is only waiting until he can re-finance the property
and develop it for new housing. The tennis court is full of rubbish. There’s no net or equipment, so all we can do is watch it
gather weeds. We know within our hearts, that time at Tyrone is limited –
either the weather will get to us first or the owner will sell up and evict us.
Never mind, we press on and enjoy ourselves.
Mike, Johnno, Michele, Nick, Me and Rosie |
The house also has a weekly Bar Night in the garage to
organise– the first one since the party. From the first night, these Bar Nights
are raucous affairs with everyone getting fairly pissed and 30 or 40 people
regularly turning up each week. All the housemates take turns behind the bar,
and its great fun serving drinks and taking the cash. Johnno provides most of
the music (recorded on Dolby TDK90
audio cassette tapes) and its popular stuff like Donna Summer & Giorgio
Moroder “I Feel Love” and Steve Miller
Band “Take the Money and Run”. It’s
not unusual for the housemates behind the bar to get pissed and as the evening
wears on, the drinks seem to flow ever faster (with consequent more spillage as
everyone starts dancing to the music!). Rosie likes to make a striking pose and
will sometimes prop up the bar on a stool and light a Dunhill cigarette in the
style of a great movie star, blowing the smoke over the gathered throng. Rosie
loves a bit of theatre! Bryan is definitely the ‘ringmaster’, giving instructions
and calling out prices of the drinks, and encouraging everyone to drink more
beer. These are great evenings, and regularly go on into the small hours. All
the single ladies want to meet the single guys, and occasionally we find
someone who’s got lost getting home who appears the next morning at breakfast!
Blacks queue for a bus |
I want to see the central railway station in Joburg as it
is quite a landmark – large, Dutch style architecture and granite stone façade.
Imposing. It’s in the middle of town and I can walk there from Commissioner St.
in my lunch hour. It takes about 15 minutes. It occupies several blocks of land,
and is bounded by 4 main streets. The approach on Wanderers St on the eastern
side is full of small stalls selling their wares, and there is lots of activity
as people make their way either to or from the station. It serves both black
and white commuters, and hence it is always busy with people coming and going.
It also serves as a bus station and is the largest railway station in Africa. I
wander up to the entrance. It’s big; it’s imposing. It’s a massive stone
complex and the dramatic station Concourse is restricted to 'Whites only' (the Concourse
was redeveloped in the mid-90’s when it was made open to whites and blacks for
the first time). I wander through it and out towards the platforms. Here, it
becomes quite confusing and I make for a flight of steps to take me to the
platforms. I find some stairs and descend to the next level. When I reach the
platforms, I don’t notice for a moment but everyone here is black; somehow I have
found my way onto one of the platforms for Soweto. The place is a mass of black
faces; I feel suddenly confused and a bit stupid; I am the only white person.
Everyone is looking at me as if I am an alien, and indeed I am to these people
because I shouldn’t be here. It is very confronting. Someone points to a sign
at the stairs “Nie Blankes; Non Whites
only”. The impression is obvious; I am not welcome here and I must leave
immediately. I turn and make for the stairs, aware of all the black faces
looking and staring. I make it to the top of the stairs and the safety of the
Concourse, and have to catch my breath. That wasn’t very pleasant at all. I
felt as if I was an alien in someone else’s world. And then I realise – this
must be how the blacks must feel every day. It is not a pleasant experience!
May
1976
One evening, Bryan comes to the dinner table more excited
than usual. He knows a ‘friend of a friend’ that has secured the first illegal
copy of the film “Emmanuelle 2” to
enter South Africa, starring the beautiful Sylvia Kristel in the nude (of
course) with several explicit sex scenes. The word ‘porn movie’ hasn’t entered
the modern lexicon at this point yet, and we call it a ‘blue movie’, but the
inference is obvious. This will be a huge hit for young people in the communal
house scene and the first ‘blue movie’ for many people – what better for a
future classic of the genre to be shown at Tyrone first – in all of South
Africa!. We also realise, this will be strictly illegal, and if we receive a
visit from the police it will mean confiscation of the movie and financial penalties
and possible criminal conviction. Anything deemed sexually permissive is banned
in this country. We need to be very discreet.
But Bryan reckons we go for something much bigger still. His
earlier roulette evenings for just a few friends have gone well. He knows where
he can get a professional roulette wheel and baize cloth, professional chips
and all the paraphernalia that goes with gambling, and suggests that while we
have maybe 100 or 200 people here for the movie that we also have a roulette
night. Operating a casino in South Africa is also illegal but by this time we
have thrown caution to the wind and we are all behind Bryan – it will be great
fun and make the house a lot of money.
Rosie at a Movie Night |
In the event, we sell over 200 tickets for the movie, and
we plan to have 3 showings during the course of the evening and people will
also be playing roulette both before and after the movie, so there will be potentially
a huge profit for the house after paying for the movie and the chairs.
There is one more surprise that is kept secret. Paul
confides in me that he has arranged for 3 strippers to come along on the night
and do private shows in his room upstairs for anyone that wants to pay for it.
This all sounds a bit over the top to me and Rosie, but we don’t get involved –
if he wants girls in his room and have some private fun, then that’s up to him.
No one is any the wiser!!
On the night of the movie, there is a great air of
excitement – everyone there knows that what is happening is highly illegal, but
that seems to lend the occasion with greater excitement. We have 200 people at
the house, maybe slightly more as some people have just come for the roulette
and the bar is doing a roaring trade (we temporarily set up the bar in the
lounge, as it’s impossible to get in the garage while the movie is showing). I
remember that Sylvia Kristel is the most beautiful actress that I have ever
seen on screen, and the sex scenes (set in Hong Kong, Macao and Bali) are
tasteful and erotic. We all agree that the movie is simply the best film anyone
has ever seen.
Meanwhile, I look around for any girls who may be strippers
and don’t see any and I wander over to Paul and ask him what is going on. “Well Davey boy…they turned up an hour ago,
had one look at the illegal setup we had happening and the number of people,
and got cold feet and left immediately!!” Ha, ha, I laughed like a drain.
“It was a bit over the top”, I say to him. “If
we are raided by the police and they find out we have girls upstairs doing
private shows, then we are all for the high-jump!!” Paul actually agrees
and tells me he is kind of glad because the house is pumping as it is. Paul has
a cheeky grin and likes to be a bit on the naughty side when it comes to the
ladies. He is always up for anything that is fun or fabulous.
The night is a great success and Tyrone is now firmly on
the communal house ‘map’ for parties, Bar Nights and blue movies!
The story about roulette doesn’t quite end there however.
Bryan builds a professional roulette table in the garage, complete with all
fixtures and fittings and we decide to hold weekly roulette nights on a Friday
night which Bryan will finance, and the house will take whatever it makes on
the Bar. This is in addition to Tuesday nights, which alternate each week
between a Movie night in the lounge and Bar Night in the garage. So Tyrone is
almost becoming a little money machine, with all the social events happening in
this sleepy part of Linksfield Ridge! Maybe it’s time for a visit from the
police!
This duly happens one Friday evening while there is a rowdy
roulette session happening in the garage (behind the closed doors fortunately –
but the cars down the lane will have given the game away).
Two uniformed SAP officers from the Parkview police station
knock on the front door and come into the lounge area and start asking
questions. The noise from the garage can plainly be heard in the background.
This doesn’t look good for Bryan, for the housemates or for Tyrone. However, perhaps
because Bryan and Mike had recent military service (in Rhodesia and SA
respectively), and the 2 uniformed guys are police reservists, they develop a
spirit of empathy towards us, which is helped along by Bryan and Mike giving
them a few drinks. After about 30 minutes, they say to Mike “well Meneer, there’s nothing much happening
here, totsiens man” and leave by the front door! Phew, that is a close
shave. For the next few weeks we cancel a couple of the roulette nights, but
after about 2 months we are suffering from some serious ‘party’ overload (and
Bryan has some financial losses on the table) that the Friday night roulette
evenings are quietly dropped.
Rosie astride my bike |
This month we are having yet another housemate leave us.
This time it’s Maggie, who says she is moving in with her new boyfriend
Fairfax, who is a stockbroker in the city. Rosie will miss Maggie, because they
are always smoking on the outside porch together, and borrowing each other’s
cigarettes. After the usual few evenings seeing people who want to move in, we
decide someone called Marlene Blomerus is perfect for the house. She is bright,
good fun and slightly reserved with a lovely nature. She moves into Maggie’s
old room upstairs at the far end of the house, next to Bryan.
June
1976
By June, we are still having Bar Nights in the garage on
alternate weeks, on a Tuesday night. They are always chaotic affairs – loud
music, everyone enjoying themselves and all the housemates having a good time
behind the bar. I get to know all the drinks, like the ever popular Bacardi and
coke, and Castle beer and Lion Lager. The darts board always gets a workout and
the piano in the corner is more for show than go. It’s always fun, but often I
wonder how some of the people get home on the roads – maybe because the roads
are so quiet at 2am when it seems most nights finish up. However, there is
chaos of another kind one Tuesday night when one of the 'patrons’ gets decidedly
drunk, pulls out his gun and fires off a few rounds into the air in the garden. Mike immediately
swings into action with his military training and disarms the guy – firmly but
politely – and puts him and his gun in his car where he is seen sleeping it off
a few hours later! No harm done, and the neighbours are far enough away not to
be alarmed by the shots (our nearest neighbour, apart from the communal house
Roman, being about 200 yards away). At the next night’s dinner table, Mike S.
is the voice of reason and suggests we cancel a couple of weeks of Bar Nights
to let the situation cool down. This appears sensible, as we don’t want another
visit from the police. Mike is like a wise ‘sage’, having been in the military
and one of the long-standing members of the house, and we all listen to his
wise counsel with reverence and respect!
Rosie and I reading about the student protests |
The unrest quickly spreads to other townships, such as
Alexandra, where 19 people are killed. Many Soweto student leaders are
influenced by the ideas of black consciousness at this time. Some small groups
of student activists are linked to old ANC members and the militant wing of the
ANC ‘Umkhonto we Sizwe’. ANC underground organisations issue pamphlets calling on
the community to support students and link the student struggle to the
struggle for national liberation. We realise that South Africa is changing in
front of our eyes, and the privileged white society that we are used to is
changing forever.
House Olympics - Greasy Pole over the pool |
The work situation at OK Stores hasn’t changed since I
started. I am still responsible for their stock control and order processing
systems, but the company has recently introduced new computer systems
for their upcoming Hypermarket opening. These stores will be the ‘killer-category’
stores in South Africa, which will allow you to buy almost anything you want;
not just TV’s and whitegoods but also new cars (they have an arrangement with
Ford). Occasionally, I get called in when something doesn’t work in the
overnight computer program, and I have to go into work to
fix the problem, usually around 4am. This involves a phone call to the house which one of the
servants will pick up, and then to wake me with groans from Rosie, to get down
there as quick as I can. I’ll drive through the empty streets of Joburg and
park in Commissioner St, outside the front entrance of the DP Centre. There are
no concerns for safety at this time, even after Soweto a few weeks ago, and no
one locks their car doors while driving, even at night. Usually, the problem is
quickly traced by finding the instruction that has caused the problem, using a
computer dump of machine code and some address calculations as to where the
program has crashed, I’ll get the program tray from the library (computer
programs were stored on punchcards, in metal trays, at this time) correct the
offending punchcard, recompile the program and get it running again. Then it’s
back to bed as the sun is coming up, say 6am, with more groans from Rosie. And I
will usually be back at my desk by 10am again – all in a normal day’s work!
Taffy Hewson (IT Director) wanted to ensure the Regions had a computer presence, so he arranged for each of them to have Burroughs machines with 9.6K of memory to handle MICR encoded documents and punched cards!!
July
1976
A memorable party that Rosie and I go to is held one
Saturday night at Jalis Inn in Highlands North. It’s a small communal house with
only 4 guys sharing it but they create a great atmosphere with coloured lights
against the white walls and convert the main lounge into a club vibe complete with
a Jimi Hendrix movie projected diagonally onto the walls and ceiling playing
his biggest hits like “Purple Haze” at full volume, to great effect. Rosie is
in her element as she dances to the music, her long hair cascading over her
shoulders as she weaves and turns to the beat. She loves to be the centre of
attention, and her good looks get her plenty of admiring glances. She reminds
me of a Kate Bush, with the way she rocks with the music. Outside is a small
pool enclosed by a courtyard, and everyone is feeling the love and jumping in
and out of the pool and dancing to the beat from inside, while in a corner there’s
half a lamb turning slowly on a spit. The sight of the lamb, and the smoke from
the fire, and the sights and sounds of Jimi Hendrix wafting outside, make for a
great memory; it’s a small bunch of revellers, maybe 80 or so, all enjoying the
moment in time.
Mine dump at Diepkloof |
After about an hour, we have travelled over half a dozen
mine dumps at least, and have become a little disoriented, and decide to head
back to the city along the edge of a poor residential area. We drop down into
what is obviously a township for blacks. There are no whites here, and it is
made up of hundreds of black faces, looking at us as we slowly ride past them.
Bryan calls over to Nick and I, “we must
be in Soweto and this isn’t the best place to be right now, so just keep riding
and don’t stop”. It’s good advice indeed, as the black faces show us they
don’t like this intrusion into their lives. As long as we stick together, we
feel we will be alright. After about 10 minutes we emerge onto Main Reef road
at Riverlea, about 5 miles south-west of the city. “Phew, that was a bit crazy” I shout over to Bryan and Nick, “but you have to admit it was great fun”.
The other 2 just look relieved! When we
get back to Tyrone, everyone else just thinks we were mad to go down there. “But we got lost…” says Nick helplessly!
Although we have had our own security issues in South
Africa, with more reports of rioting and protests since Soweto last month, I am
reminded that England has its own security issues with the Irish problem, known
as the ‘troubles’ – on 21 July it is reported that the British Ambassador to
Ireland, and his secretary, are both assassinated by a car bomb in Dublin. It
seems that the Irish ‘troubles’ are getting worse, and even at home in England
you may not be safe (the Irish IRA ‘guerrilla war’ against England does
escalate through the 70’s and 80’s with bombings of the Old Bailey in London,
the Horse Guards in Hyde Park and of course the bombing of a hotel in Brighton
aimed at Margaret Thatcher. Lord Mountbatten, while on holiday in Ireland, was killed
by a bomb planted on board his boat. And on the same day, eighteen British
soldiers were killed by two roadside bombs in Ireland).
Mike and the repossessed Cadillac |
Mid-way there he stays overnight at a motel in the tiny
town of Russell, in Kansas, and next morning he goes into town to buy breakfast.
The town is a buzz of excitement, because US President Gerald Ford is in town
that morning to announce his ’76 campaign running mate for VP, Senator Robert
Dole, who grew up in Russell. The Republican National Convention is to be held
next month in Kansas City. Amazingly, Mike gets to shake hands with the
President and his running mate, and when he comes home 2 weeks later he is
still telling the story (and his right hand is sort of blessed because it’s
been touched by the president of the United States!)
Drakensburg Mountains |
Relaxing at the resort pool |
On Saturday we visit all the best spots like Horseshoe
Falls, God’s Window, and Bourke’s Luck Potholes. Nick wants to swim in the icy
waters of Horseshoe Falls and everyone tells him he’s crazy, but he does it
anyway – brrr. On Sunday, Rosie and I head off on a horse trail ride, down a
steep trail into the Canyon that leads to a magnificent gorge and waterfall. Beautiful.
Rosie is a much better rider than me, and she looks quite regal on the horse;
head held high and hair flowing behind her – no hard hats here!
August
1976
The Mini Clubman in the Drakensburg |
There is a minor hitch when we can’t get the Beetle
started, and while the salesman convinces me that it is a minor fuel issue, I
negotiate a hefty discount on the price and we push the car out onto the
street. Whatever the problem, I know I can get it started if I can get it to a
garage, so I call the AA and ask for assistance with a car that’s broken down.
When the AA turn up a short time later, the mechanic turns to me after looking
over the motor and says without a hint of surprise “how was it going this morning?” “Oh, just fine” I reply with a straight face. “Amazing…” is his only reply. Nevertheless, he manages to get it
running after about 10 minutes, and tells me it was a blocked fuel filter. “Looks like the fuel hasn’t been used for
months” he says with a straight face, and our eyes meet and we sort of
understand each other without any more being said.
I drive the Beetle home a happy owner, and in the remaining
18 months that I am in South Africa, it costs me ‘not a cent’ in maintenance.
What reliability! What German engineering!!
Only a couple of months after Soweto, we hear of a
three-day strike in Soweto by between 150,000 and 200,000 black workers. The Rand Daily Mail only reports it in
general terms, as there is a ban on writing anything that is happening in the
country that is against the Afrikaner-backed National
Party, so most of the time we are not hearing about what is going on. The violence
even spreads to Cape Town, to the black townships of Langa, Nyanga and Guguletu
and then, for the first time, to Coloured townships. 33 people are shot dead in
looting related incidents. The noose is slowly tightening around the neck of
apartheid, as a tidal wave of protest and opposition slowly but surely starts
to make an impression on the country (South Africa had economic and political
sanctions imposed on it by the international community at this time, to slowly
build pressure to break down the barriers of apartheid, but it took almost 15
years until South African President, F.W. de Klerk, announced the end of
apartheid in his 1990 address to Parliament).
September
1976
The big event this month is Michele’s 21st birthday party. We are all so young, but Michele is the youngest of all of us. Obviously, John S. is a lucky man, and don't the other guys in the house know it!
Deere cooks a special dinner, and Mike S. oversees the
preparations in the kitchen. A giant Pavlova cake has been made by Deere to
instructions from John S. All the housemates are there – Marlene, Bryan, Mike,
Paul, Nick, Johnno, John and Michele S, Rosie and me. Also a couple of friends
from A.C.Nielson - Mike and Yvonne Hoy, and Lynn Cormack. And Johnno’s gf Sarah Evans and Bryan’s brother Tony. Tony is
a cameraman with the South African Broadcasting Corporation and he suggests we
make a film and call it “The Rocky Horror
Show”. Johnno and I also decide we should introduce Michele to a
‘5-stacker’ (5 rollie papers stuck together to form a long thick joint, about 5
times the size of a normal cigarette) at dinner, and plan some extra
festivities during the evening.
After the main course, Johnno brings out the ‘5-stacker’
and we light up and pass it around. Most of us draw a deep breath on it before
passing it on, and it is so large, the joint is going around the table for
about 30 minutes. Everyone is in party mood by now, either from alcohol or
dope, and we get Michele up the front. Johnno makes a speech and then someone
else – Nick or Paul – runs outside and jumps in the pool, fully clothed, and
comes back into dinner dripping wet. This is a sign for most of the rest of us
to strip off and dash for the pool for a dip in the freezing water (its winter)
– Michele leads the charge to the pool, followed by the two Johns, me and
several others. It’s an immediate rush and a real zinger – this must be how Nordic
people feel when they dash out of their saunas and roll in the snow!
When everyone has dried off and got dressed again, still
very inebriated or on a high, we sit down again for the Pavlova. It is brought
in with great ceremony by Joe, lights dimmed and everyone singing Happy
Birthday. It is lowered carefully onto the table in front of Michele, who
stands and shovels great spoonfuls of the soft white gooey mixture onto plates.
There is an air of expectation as everyone waits to get their plate. Then, as
if by some hidden signal, the idea of a food fight comes to all of us at the
same time. Soft, white blobs of Pav are hurtling across the room and in all
directions, and we are all covered in the gooey mixture – no one is spared! At
the end, everyone dives in the pool again to clean off. Oh wow, what a dinner
party.
Tony did make the movie “The Rocky Horror Show” that night, but the copy goes missing and no
one gets to see it. That would have been a good memento!
Michele, Johnno and Me relaxing with a puff ! |
Mike knows of a new private game reserve – Londolozi Game
Reserve, adjacent to the Kruger Game Park with special opening rates – and he
has a cunning plan to impress Belinda. He went there recently with a friend
from Barclays who had the use of a company vehicle. It’s an ‘all inclusive’
experience with full accommodation, meals, game tours, and guides armed with
rifles so they can drive off the beaten track and get out of the LandRovers.
All for R35/night each.
So Mike books a long weekend at Londolozi and disappears
with Belinda for a spectacular wildlife experience. When they are there, they
meet Lex Hess, who started the previous week as a guide (Lex spends 16 years at
Londolozi and goes onto become a famous naturalist and wildlife photographer and
runs a school for safari guides. Londolozi is now one of South Africa’s top
private game reserves with rates starting around USD 1,000/night).
Towards the end of the month, Rosie tells me that she wants
to leave the house and take a break in our relationship. It’s a sad day for
both of us. It’s an amicable break; we’ve both felt the pressures of communal
living with the socialising and drinking and dope and so forth. We have also
been attracted to other people we have met, and this has become unbearable to
ignore at times, and we both feel the time is right to experience what else
life has to offer. We are both young, and we need to test our love in other
directions. We feel that we could both keep going as we are, but it certainly
isn’t leading to a long term commitment and the thought of marriage is not on
either of our minds. Is that a good enough reason to have a break? I’m not sure,
even after a long passage of time, whether that alone is a good enough reason
to break up, but we have been a couple for 2 years (including 6 months in
England) and the spark has waned a little, you could say, and therefore we both
need to freshen our outlook and seek romance elsewhere. Two years is a test of
any relationship, when exposed to the hard partying and socialising of the
communal house scene, and the substance abuse such as alcohol and the ‘mary
jane’, and the temptations they can lead a young person to. We agree to see
each other occasionally and remain friends, and see how we feel about each
other in 6 months’ time. Rosie leaves to join Kiwi Estate in Bryanston.
October
1976
Shortly after Rosie moves out, I am loading a film reel on
the projector on a Movie Night when someone comes up to watch how it is done. “Isn’t it a bit fiddly”, she says, making
conversation idly. “Not when you’ve done
it a hundred times” I say, trying to impress her. We drift off to separate
areas during the movie, but I’m intrigued by this woman who has been chatting
to me. She isn’t the normal communal house type. For one thing, she’s much
older than anyone else. And another thing, she doesn’t live in a communal
house. She has her own house in Rosebank, about 5 miles away. There is no doubt
she is very attractive and looks probably early 30’s, and I’m intrigued to find
out more.
I discover her name is Helena. She has been brought to the
Movie Night by someone she knows, and otherwise doesn’t know anyone else at the
house. She’s shown some interest in me, so at the end of the movie I wander
over and offer her a drink. Over a couple of drinks, I discover she is 40 years
old and there is obviously some sort of wild attraction between 2 people who
are 15 years apart in age. Her friend comes over later and says she is leaving
and asks Helena if she wants a lift home. Her eyes catch mine and her look says
it all. “No, look, I’ll be happy to run Helena home later” I say, and with
that, Helena is cast into my care!
After a number of drinks, Helena and I are getting on
famously. About midnight, the crowd is dispersing, so I tell her I will run her
home. Well, by the time we get to her house, we are all over each other and the
evening ends in intimate fashion at about 2am. Nice one Helena – I suspect she
likes the idea of a long-haired Brit half her age and I quite like the idea of
an older woman, thank you, especially one that is so fit!
Helena and I become a couple for about 4 weeks during which
we go to numerous parties, bar nights and house movies. It’s all so much fun,
but like all good things it comes to an end when Helena picks another young man
to conquer. She is voracious; a man-eater, and I have been spat out when she
has tired of me. It doesn’t worry me; she is still a gorgeous person –
vivacious, energetic, very fit and a lovely pair of black leather boots that
somehow makes it into my bed on one occasion!
Mike S. is officially going out with Belinda from Rachan.
We are all jealous as we find her very attractive. Initially we thought Mike wouldn't stand a chance with Belinda, against the pursuits of other men,
but to his credit he has come through with the goods. The relationship actually
looks serious, and Bryan wonders if it could lead to another wedding in the
house – he has already been ‘best man’ once already for John and Michele, and
maybe he expects a second round (Mike and Belinda do indeed get married in July
’79, but in Cape Town, and go on to work in San Francisco for a couple of
years). We all wonder what Mike’s secret weapon is. More than one wag suggests
it must be his water-bed! I remind everyone that his waterbed leaks most of the
time, so that can’t be pleasant, but Johnno remarks that someone should test it
and check it out.
Marlene is also going out with someone from Rachan, and
that is Dan Archer. Marlene is like a quiet achiever – very kind and sweet, and
you would think sugar wouldn’t melt in her mouth, but over the past couple of
months she has been working on Dan, and now they are a couple. She can also
surprise us out of nowhere, as on one occasion she saunters over to the pool
one day, strips off her bikini top and floats topless on the water while
enjoying the approving gaze of the other (male) housemates. Well done Marlene!
On the 17th October, the township of Soweto again flares
into violence, and these popular uprisings and protests are met with banning of
any opposition to the apartheid laws, and imprisoning of anti-apartheid leaders
by the National Party government. As unrest spreads, the security forces
respond with more repression and violence. It’s a vicious circle at the moment.
But we still don’t fear for our safety.
Meanwhile, Johnno has taken his own words to heart, and
invites a girlfriend up to Mike’s room while Mike and Belinda are away for the
weekend. Unfortunately for John, Mike arrives back early from his weekend away and
discovers him having a work-out on his waterbed! Mike shouts through the door “I’m giving you one minute and then I’m coming
in and kicking you out” to which John’s reply was inaudible, as he was somewhere
under the sheets at that moment. They appear with some clothes on, in under a
minute, and disappear to his room. The atmosphere is very cold at dinner for
some reason.
Freks and I have been close friends since I first met her
at Houghton last year, and we take my ‘single’ status as an opportunity to get
friendlier, She’s a lovely Irish girl, with a shock of reddish hair and face
freckles (hence her nickname) and a cheeky sense of humour. She doesn’t have a
car and I therefore pick her up from her house in Parktown (Gail Road) and
bring her over for Bar Nights and anything else that’s happening. Usually, by
the time I get to take her home we are under the influence of something
‘mind-altering’, with inevitable results at her place, and the number of times
I drive home as the sun is coming up are too numerous to mention (I have to be
at work by 9am, so it’s tough!). She’s a naughty girl, but I like it.
November
1976
Johnno is seeing Mary Lion regularly now, and she is a
nurse at the Florence Nightingale Hospital. She is a lovely Irish girl, with a
perfect complexion and natural blond hair. She lives in nurses quarters opposite
the hospital, with about 20 other nurses, and they become a rich source of
single ladies for the guys at our bar and movie nights. They all seem to be
Irish, and they love to have a good time, and can frequently drink the guys
under the table. They certainly liven up the Bar Nights in the garage and it isn’t
unheard of to discover 4 in a bed on some occasions at Tyrone (that’s 2
couples; not 4 ladies!).
Relaxing in the garden |
When the stones are super-hot, the food is placed in someone’s
white cotton bed sheets and soaked in water to prevent burning, and to provide
water for steaming the food, and placed in wire baskets before being placed on
top of the stones. Some old hessian sacks, also soaked in water, are laid on
top of the food as this helps to provide more steam. The whole thing is then
covered in earth so that the heat and steam cook the food slowly to a succulent
flavour – about 3 hours. When it’s done and cooked, the aroma's, scents, and flavours
hit you hard and the rest is just amazing. Everyone has a feast, and has to
admit they haven’t tasted anything like it. Nick remarks “I know the Maori’s
like their food, but is it always necessary to wait 5 or 6 hours to get it on
your plate”! Someone reminds him it wasn’t so long ago that they were cooking
the missionaries, and it probably took a lot longer to get them to the sweet
and succulent stage then!
On another weekend, I pick up Rosie from the Kiwi Estate and
we go over to Freks house for a spit-roast her house is having. I have seen
Rosie occasionally, since she moved out, and we remain friends although it’s
extremely difficult to see her with anyone else. Is that jealousy or what, I
don’t know? I know that our relationship wasn’t going anywhere so that a break
was for the good of both of us. But that doesn’t make it any easier when the 2
of us had been together for almost 2 years. Maybe I should stop seeing her
altogether, if the pain of it is too much, but I know that we are happier
apart. So sad.
The spit-roast is a great success. It’s a half lamb with
back and front legs, turning slowly on a spit. As the afternoon wears on, people
wonder over and carve slices off the lamb onto plates heaped full of salad or
vegetables. Yum.
While I am there, Freks introduces me to a guy who has just
come out from England and is staying at the same hotel where I stayed when I
first came out. We chat about events happening in England, and I fill him in on
the communal scene. He tells me what a huge news event that the Soweto uprising
was and how the international community is applying pressure for change in South
Africa, the details of which I was not aware of because there is so much
censorship here. It’s annoying really, and I have a feeling of hopelessness
with the situation as not only do we not know what is going on, there is
nothing that people can do about it from within the country. The opposition
party in Parliament, the Progressive Party, is really just a token effort on
the part of the mainly liberal-thinking, English-speaking classes. Up until
1974, Helen Suzman is the party’s sole representative in
Parliament, fighting alone against apartheid and the extension of South
Africa’s racial and security laws (in 1974, however, the Progressive Party won just
seven seats). It’s a hopeless situation.
At the end of the afternoon, Rosie leaves with someone
else, so I offer the English guy a lift back to his hotel. We jump in the
Beetle and set off for the Rand Inn hotel near Plein St. When we get there, I
pull over and wish my new friend well. As he gathers his stuff, he turns to me
and invites me upstairs to his room for a drink. Now, I had never been
propositioned by a guy before, but in a moment of sudden clarity, I sort of know
what is on offer. I am totally unprepared for it – he’s a good looking guy and
we had been getting on very well but I am sure I hadn’t put out any signals. I
blurted something like “I have to get
home” or something equally as stupid and I shut the door and sped off. I
felt totally stupid. Why should I assume he was propositioning me; it may have
really only been something innocent like a drink. (To this day, I shall never
know, but it was the first time I have received such an offer and I was a
little embarrassed to be honest! I was only 26, and I had obviously led a
rather sheltered life!)
December
1976
TV was introduced to South Africa in January this year, and in
December we decide to hire a colour TV set (a new TV set costs more than R750).
TV has taken a long time to come to this country, mainly due to opposition from
the National Party who see it as a threat to Afrikaans and the Afrikaner volk,
giving undue prominence to English, and creating unfair competition for the
Afrikaans press. By December, there is still only one channel with airtime
divided evenly between English and Afrikaans, alternating on different nights
between the two languages. The TV News comes on at 6pm for 30 minutes, and it
is the best program on TV, where we get most of our information of what is
happening in the rest of the world (the National Party controlled what is
broadcast on SABC-TV until the 1990’s when changes to the Constitution guaranteed
freedom of the press and other media). Glen Collyer, producer of a magazine program on SABC-TV called "PULSE" produced an episode that featured the commune scene in Joburg which was aired earlier in the year. The program was organised by the guys in Barge Inn and included a number of the best-known houses and personalities.
Barge Inn used to be the residence of the Commercial Attache of the American Embassy. When it started as a communal house in late-1974, Nic "The General" Iverson negotiated a lease that included most of the furniture and fittings and it was therefore one of the more luxurious houses on the scene with a flood-lit tennis court, pool, patio/deck and pond in the garden, with facilities in the house that included a button on the floor in the dining room that would summon the servants when you pressed it with your foot! 'JS', who was an earlier resident of the house during the American days, contacted me years later to explain a number of paranormal events that occurred at the residence during his stay including a 'flyover' of a UFO and the disappearance of a solid object into thin air that was also witnessed by two other people. 'JS' wrote to me about the UFO and its worth quoting as follows: "a large UFO flew over the house while I was there. It was large,
glowing brightly, round, slow, silent and low…it lit up the entire area... and
all the dogs in the neighborhood absolutely went crazy howling and barking.
When it reached a point in the sky of about 45 degrees, it shot off to the
north at an amazing speed. So fast was its' departure, that it left a momentary
tail of light, like a tracer round and made a slight arc as it flew over the
horizon. Its acceleration was in no way possible by any earth technology then
or now…it disappeared in less than half a second; almost instantly. No, they
didn’t come back for me, but later on, they would show up again and again, not
over Barge Inn…but other places along my journey. The “visits” actually began
several years before the 'flyover' in Linksfield, but I had not begun at that
time to connect any dots yet…of any kind..."!!!
Johnno knows all the good places to go around Hillbrow and
the nightlife scene. John and I sometimes head out to one of the clubs on a
Friday or Saturday night in search of the ladies. Our favorite dance club is Shiaparelli’s
in De Villiers St., south of the Hillbrow district. It’s trendy, it has queues,
it’s up some stairs in a darkened venue where all manner of things are
happening, and it’s pumping out the dance music – all the latest disco numbers
from Giorgio Moroder and others. There is a smoke-filled atmosphere, some of it
dope, and everyone is in party mode. There are 4 or 5 podiums where guys or
girls can get up and dance or sway to the beat – in today’s world you might call
it a gay club but this is before that term is popularised. It’s not a gay club,
strickly speaking, and it appears that everyone is friendly with everyone else,
but there are plenty of hetrosexuals to add to the mix. Even the toilets appear
to be mixed, or at least it appears that women are coming and going in the
Gents toilets! Shiaparelli’s is the hottest club in town at the moment, and
everyone wants to get in there. Needless to say, Johnno seems to have some
contacts and we only have to wait a short time on the stairs before we are let in.
We had some crazy boozy, smokey, weird times there dancing to the beat. And afterwards
(like about 4am) we stop by Fontana in Hillbrow for a toasted chicken sandwich,
or go to the Paradise Café for a cappuccino.
One afternoon, Bryan, Nick and I are cleaning our bikes on
the lawn after going out on a ride when we notice a car come up the drive and
its occupant disappear into the house. Nick seems to recognise her, a very
attractive 20-something who turned up with her husband for a party earlier in
the year. She must have enjoyed it, because we have seen the same car on a
number of afternoons and her disappear into the house to see someone. We have
no idea who it is, or why she comes over, but it’s all very clandestine and
secretive. The visits normally last a couple of hours and then she disappears
again. We decide to see nothing and say nothing – Mum’s the word on this one,
as we don’t want her husband coming around looking for her. We never do find
out who she is seeing or why, but the strange case of the afternoon visits goes
on for about a month and then we don’t see her again. Very strange!
The year draws to a close in usual fashion, with high
expectations for the New Year. The past year has gone in a ‘blink of an eye’
and everything has been a blur. It’s hard to believe that I’ve been in South
Africa for 2 years, 18 months of that time in Tyrone. We have a good bunch of
people still, and even though we have had the usual turnover of housemates, the
basic character of the place remains intact. It is in no short measure due to
the guiding hands of the long-standing members of the house like Bryan, Mike,
Nick and John and Michele. But everyone gets on really well too – no
personality clashes, just sweet times all round. Bryan is like the
‘ringmaster’, controlling his circus animals, Mike is the ‘wise one’ who we all
listen to, John and Michele are the loved-up married couple ‘steady as you go’,
Nick is the ‘funster’ always having a laugh, Paul the ‘naughty one’ always on
the lookout for a good time and Johnno is the ‘music man’ and philosopher, with
his collection of fine music and various smokers requisites like bongs, pipes
and gourds to help us find the inner meaning of life. Marlene, meanwhile, is
the ‘steady one’ but always ready to surprise us. And me..well, I’m just here
for a good time and happy to go with the ebb and flow of the social scene. A
butterfly, perhaps.
As 1976 finishes and the New Year commences, we wonder what
the next 12 months will bring.
Read on…
To continue with the story, scroll to the Blog Archive in
the right-hand panel and click on '1977: January to December - Tyrone'
David, once again an extraordinary feat of memory (or a prodigious diary) in evidence with this work of literature. No doubt this treatise will be of value to future generations of historians researching the decadence and depravity of pre-democratic white society in Jhb. Relevant reading since today is the 40th anniversary of the Soweto massacre!
ReplyDeleteIf I don't write it down now, the memories will be lost forever in a fog of 'old-age'! You're absolutely right about Soweto; I'm not sure we knew much of what went on in the townships and I've had to resort to Google and Wikipedia a few times to get the 'real' perspective!!
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