Arrival

By: Elaine Lutton

We would sit around discussing Religion, does God exist? Civil Rights and Apartheid, Politics, Unions and more. I vividly remember the afternoon when the entire University shut down so we students could debate the Cuban Missile Crisis (October 62) when the whole world teetered on the edge of yet another World War. I marched through Sheffield for CND, I was with a West Indian friend from the University Newspaper when he took on Oswald Mosley, and I refuse to give him his title when he campaigned on an antiimmigration platform calling for forced repatriation of Caribbean immigrants as well as the prohibition of mixed marriages. I became involved with Student Union Politics, not standing for office myself but being good friends with those who did. A peculiarity of the time was that the President of the Union had to be male whilst the Vice-president was female. My friend, one Audrey Jay, was horrified to walk into the Union

Bar and discover the Committee for her Election had put up posters everywhere declaring “All the way with Audrey Jay”, echoing the well-known phrase about the USA president of the time. It had alternative connotations in our day, definitely not politically correct, but she did get voted into the position. Whilst the UK itself managed to stay out of the Vietnam War we had Canadians, Americans and others who came over to study in the UK to avoid being drafted into a war with which they disagreed. The advent of The Pill put a whole new slant on relations between the sexes. It was still advisable though, to wear a curtain ring from Woolworths when attempting to persuade one's doctor to prescribe this. It was either celibacy or a quick trip down the backstreets to find “help” from someone who had “practised” on the local Derbyshire sheep. Horrific as this sounds I know it really did occur, with foreseeable consequences. On the brighter side, there were more cheerful things that the Sixties were remembered for: Music, fashion, coffee bars, curries, even the Magic Round-about shown on TV just before the News. There were The Beatles and The Rolling Stones. I was definitely a Beatles fan, I saw the film "A Hard Day's Night", I cannot say heard, far too much screaming. A confession: I visited a close girlfriend in London and after supper, she put on some Beatles records to which we danced enthusiastically. It put us in the mood for more dancing and she suggested that we go out for the evening and find one of the many nightclubs around and so we did. We had nowhere particularly in mind but came across a club which gave a price for gentlemen clients but said that ladies were free. A trifle misleading, as we were later to find out. Anyway, we did not lack for partners and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. We attracted the notice of a particularly nice Frenchman, who bought us both a drink and then explained his dilemma. He was unable to decide between us. He asked each of us our going rate; perhaps he was wondering if he could afford us both. I don't know. The penny belatedly dropped and we gently explained that we were not “that kind of girl”. All three of us burst into uncontrollable laughter. The Frenchman then said that he would look elsewhere, and suggested that for the sake of our Virtue, perhaps we should head for home, which we did. But what a gentleman he was! Fashion was Mary Quant, Biba, miniskirts, I had the legs for them then, and false eyelashes. All of which I embraced. Once I had married and was working, my husband and I could afford to go to our favourite pub and have a few modest drinks. When the pubs closed, 10:30 pm, "Time gentlemen please!” we might treat ourselves to a curry at a local Pakistani restaurant. They did not usually open until just before the pubs shut when they would do most of their business. Those curries were the genuine article, one ordered them by number as the waiters and kitchen staff usually spoke little English, but they could cook! The staff had to sign up at the police station and we once heard the owner of a restaurant introducing his new employees and asking them to sign in, whereupon the Sheffield sergeant sighed heavily on looking at the autographs and said, “That 'ud be right, upside-down and back'ards way around!”. A phrase we used throughout our married life! Yes, indeed, we were fortunate to be young in those glorious times, and how thankful do I feel for the receipt of that email, that blast from the past that brought back all those precious memories.

As I do every morning, a few days ago, I opened the Inbox of my Gmail and there, waiting for me, was the most delightful surprise. A real echo from the past, way back to my student days, a friend I had known during my time at University in the Sixties had obtained my email address and was getting in contact. I replied to his email immediately exchanging news of life post-University, marriage, and grandchildren etc. His email took me back to my youth and so many memories came flooding back. Those of you who remember the Sixties will appreciate what a vibrant and exciting time it was. I will ignore the standard joke, “If you remember the Sixties, you were not there!” As students, as well as being expected to take our academic work seriously, we were encouraged to take part in Student Life.