Some memories of my time with Ken by Ron Ward

Previously published in the Ken Colyer Trust Newsletter of March 1993

Looking back on my eight years in Ken's Band (1956-64) I suppose my most poignant memory, is of a one-night-stand in Berlin. The previous evening we had played 'The Star' in Croydon, finishing at midnight; and we were not looking forward to an 8am call for Heathrow! We flew via Hamburg and Frankfurt, for in those days it was not possible to fly direct to Templehof.

Having lots of time before the concert, I took a stroll, and on the Kurfurstendam, saw advertised a 2-hour bus tour to East Berlin; literally behind the Iron Curtain! Never shall I forget the utter desolation, hardly any attempt had been made to rebuild the city, and all one could see were acres of rubble. The tour included the Unterderlinden and we saw Hitler's air-raid shelter, but most impressive of all, was the Russian Military Cemetery and war Memorial. The contrast with West Berlin with its wonderful shops, abundance of food and fine cars; was quite incredible.

The Concert took place in a huge hall, seating about 2,000 and our reception was quite overwhelming. Actually we were on the same stage used by Hitler when addressing mass meetings of the Nazi Party.

After the concert, a great and loyal friend of the Band (Winfried Maier) took two or three of us to supper and, about midnight, drove us in his car for a look at the Berlin wall which, at that time was fairly new.

Never shall I forget the utter grimness of it all; with armed forces from both sides with machine guns at the ready; watching each other through binoculars. We saw many wreaths of flowers on the pavement, placed there in tribute to those attempting to defect to the West.

We made several tours in Germany, taking in all the major cities and always our reception was tremendous, as it was also in Nottingham where it was quite fantastic. A regular venue there was 'The Dancing Slipper'.

At about lam one winters night, we left for London, and on a narrow twisty ice-covered B -road, somewhere between Nottingham and the A1, our bus went into a slide and, in what seemed to be slow motion, turned right over on its roof! In total disbelief we crawled out onto the side of the road to find no one was injured and no instruments damaged. Ken's brother Bob, who was our driver, strode off in to the night to find help, whilst the rest of us gathered wood from the hedgerows and started a fire; for it was well below freezing point and, of course, we had no idea as to how long we should be there!

Eventually Bob returned with a van and driver, so we loaded up and were driven back to Nottingham main line station, by which time it was about 4am - Oh, but what would I have given for a cup of tea and a bacon sandwich. No such luck - and there we waited for the first train to London, eventually arriving there about mid morning. Everyone made his own way home, meeting again that evening to play as though nothing had happened. Bob, who had remained in Nottingham, arrived back the next day with our repaired van.

At one point in my association with Ken, we played for six weeks, i.e. 42 consecutive nights, and I remember well, Sammy Rimington thinking aloud "where can we play the NEXT night?" He was so enthusiastic.

Then there was the time all of us were up for over 48 hours! On the Saturday we had an 8am call to drive to Harwich to catch the afternoon ferry to the Hook of Holland, playing on the way over! In the evening we were to drive to The Hague for a midnight concert with the band of the Dutch Swing College. Sunday morning we were taken on a tour of the city; Sunday afternoon sailed back to Harwich! On the way back to London we pulled up to a pub at about 8pm, and it turned out to be the local jazz club! Ken sat in with the band until about 10.30pm. Then it was 'drinks with the Guv'nor until about 12 midnight. So we arrived home about 4am, and then, played somewhere on the Monday evening, (48 hours from the commencement!).

Another time, in Leicester we played for a Students, Rag Ball. Towards the end of the session we realised that Dizzy Gillespie was across the hall listening to us! He had been playing a concert the same evening, just up the road at the De Montfort Hall. He stayed listening to us for half an hour or so and at the end of the set, he spoke to Ken and told him he had liked what he had heard.

In 1960, we undertook a three-week tour of Denmark, which included a Sunday afternoon broadcast from Radio Copenhagen on the east side of Denmark. We had flown to Copenhagen by the Comet, a remarkable aircraft that seem to take off at an angle of 45 degrees, and it felt like the thrust of a rocket!

On the previous Saturday we had been playing in a town on the extreme western side; and it was a late finish and we were due to catch an early morning train for Copenhagen. Everyone overslept and by the time we awoke, the train was long gone. The road manager, a Dane, feeling himself responsible, dashed from the hotel and soon returned with a minibus he had hired. Without any breakfast, we piled into the bus and started the long drive to Copenhagen. The only refreshment available was on a ferry. We arrived there with only about half an hour to spare, and did the broadcast, before flying in a Dakota, back to the town where we had played on the Saturday night, and there, we played again on the Sunday evening.

Every year we took part in a River Boat Shuffle from Tower Bridge Pier to Margate. These were arranged by George Webb of 'Jazzshow'. Two boats were hired; the Royal Sovereign and Daffodil, each carrying approximately 2,000 jazz fans; some of whom had travelled from as far away as Scotland just to attend. I think I took part in seven of these and every time we had perfect weather -quite a miracle! With six or seven bands on each boat, it was a wonderful experience.

On one occasion two characters, somewhat the worse for drink, dived fully clothed into the water at Margate, before the boat had docked, much to the amusement of the spectators.

And so it went on memories, and more memories. Wonderful years.

Ron Ward

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