Two years have now passed since the sad day we lost Commando Senior. Today it seems fitting that I should republish the last of his memoirs, the one he was working on in those last few days. It’s a terrible shame he didn’t have more time to write about his flying, his days running his engineering business or all the other wonderful things he did like flying on Concord or sailing on the QE2. Maybe it’s fitting that this last memoir should be about something happy and something that made him incredibly happy, his dancing.
The Dancing Years Part One; 1948 to 1951
As noted in previous ramblings, I suddenly found myself with much spare time and no social life, after studying for and subsequently passing, first class, an external examination which I should not have taken until three years later. After researching the appropriate pages of the Echo, I duly presented myself at the door of the “Star Studio” in Portswood and thus began, on May 4th, 1948, a lifelong association with ballroom dancing, from pupil, through medallist, amateur competitor, performer and eventually, qualified professional teacher of dancing.
At first, I found everything difficult, but, eventually progressed to a standard at which I could take my medals, bronze, silver and gold and it was then that the competitive bug bit. I competed at every level up to “County”, with a variety of partners, but my regular partner was Jeannne Willis, with whom I won my first ever success, a novice three dance competition. Jeanne and I also represented Bob Fagan’s dancing school in team matches against other schools.
However, with the King becoming increasingly insistent to have me come to play soldiers with him, I left behind all things dancing on joining the Royal Air Force, in January 1952
The Dancing Years Part Two; 1952 to 1954
On joining the RAF, I initially had no contact with the dancing world, but on being posted to a trade training establishment, it dawned on me that I could help others by teaching a class in the NAAFI canteen, although I soon found that teaching tango to airmen in “ammo boots” left much to be desired.
Since teaching dance was, at that time an act of professionalism, I had, of course, lost my amateur status and was left with only one path to follow. Things were better at RAF station Habbaniya, Iraq, where I was able to have a quite successful class and through which I learned much of use for the future.
The Dancing Years Part Three; 1954 to 2012
On return to civilian life I had intended to teach with two old colleagues, Les Wellfare and Harry Willcocks, only to find they had gone their separate ways; in the event, I decided to go with Les and taught for some years in the Rechabite hall, now part of the Itchen Bridge toll plaza.
It was at the start of this period that I met April and began teaching her to dance and, on June 11th 1957 I took her for her amateur bronze and silver medals and she danced with me for the demonstration part of my professional examination.
The ensuing years covered everything from cabaret demonstration, through medal work to adjudication. Although April’s active particitpation largely ceased, following accidents, circa 2000, I shall always treasure our dancing life over the many years.
Although I took ballroom dancing lessons as a child, I never danced with Albert. In fact I never even saw him dance, although it was a huge part of his life. What happens to us after we die is a mystery but I’d like to think that, somewhere, April and Albert are reunited and dancing together again.
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I have a friend who would love this post too – She loves to dance and likes vintage. I’ll have to send her the link.
Thank you. It seems like the day for remembe rib my Father in Law and his love of dance.
Love the picture of them dancing
It’s wonderful isn’t it?
One of the saddest things about losing your old blog was losing your posts about Commando Senior. It was great to read this. Funny how our lives take unexpected turns – becoming a dancing instructor was probably not something he’d have mapped out as an ambition when a child!
It think the photo of Commando Senior standing with his hand on his hip (2nd one down) is wonderful. He appears to be holding a handbag, while his whole body language says, ‘I’m a proper man and this handbag does NOT belong to me’! And I can really see a likeness to your Commando in that photo. Not the handbag-carrying bit, obviously, but the pose and features.
Sadly, this is the last of his memoirs. I really wish there had been more. There is a strong family resemblance, Commando looks very much like his dad and CJ looks like his.