Simon McDermott - The Songaminute Man - How music brought my father home again

But it wasn’t just Ted’s dress sense that made him stand out. As soon as Mr Turner brought out that record player, Ted would be singing along. Like his father he appeared to have very little fear of getting up onstage. After a while Ted acquired a name for having a voice like velvet and the young audience couldn’t get enough of him. They shouted and clapped encouragement and sang along approvingly as he got going. Being onstage and singing in front of a crowd was the most freeing feeling he’d ever experienced and he soon became addicted.

One Saturday, after Ted and his friends had become regulars at the club, Mr Turner announced that they’d booked a professional singer for the following week, which meant that it was going to cost everyone an extra sixpence to get in. There was much talk about who’d be coming and if there would still be the usual routine of tea, buns and dancing. It was a big deal and, the next week, the crowd was full of teenagers all dressed up, waiting to hear the mystery performer. There were also an unusual number of couples swaying in corners. It was clear that the smart-thinking boys had asked the girls they liked on a date that night – keen to impress with a booked performer and lively crowd.

Eventually the singer arrived, dressed up to the nines in a tuxedo – you could have heard a pin drop as he handed his pianist the music. Then he started singing. It took the crowd a while to register what was happening – there were no romantic crooning or show-stopping tunes; it was straight-down-the-line opera and it went down like a lead balloon. Ted’s brother-in-law Tony reminisces: ‘The room was full of teenagers used to Dickie Valentine and Jimmy Young and here was this guy singing arias. You can imagine the crowd’s reaction.’

A voice from the audience bellowed: ‘What the bloody hell is this?’ and suddenly everyone else joined in, making it clear this was not the night they had expected. After his third song, the singer announced that he’d be back after a break.

‘Dow bother!’ someone shouted from the crowd. ‘We dow want you back!’

By this time the whole room was booing and a near-riot was brewing. Mr Turner was trying his best to calm everything down, when suddenly someone shouted out: ‘Ted! Give us a song!’ Soon the whole crowd was chanting: ‘Teddy Mac! Teddy Mac! Teddy Mac!’

The opera singer walked off the stage in disgust.

‘And take your piano player with ya!’ shouted one of the boys.

Everyone jeered.

The pianist and the opera singer stormed out, with Mr Turner running after them apologizing. There was a huge cheer as Ted took the microphone and started to sing. He was up there for over an hour and he felt as if he was on top of the world, watching the crowd going wild, cheering him on and clapping loudly. Ted had saved the day but, more importantly, in that moment he realized that this was exactly what he wanted to do with his life.

Obviously his moment of fame meant that Ted became a Saturday-night regular, and he was soon packing out the little club whenever he got up and sang. But it didn’t take his brothers and friends long to work out that part of his attachment to the club was because someone had caught his eye – and they weren’t wrong. Ted was bowled over the minute he spotted a girl named Iris across the crowded room. Iris had an abundance of dark brown hair, she was beautiful and stylish and a couple of years younger than Ted, and he soon forgot about the group he had arrived with. He plucked up the courage to go over and introduce himself.

At 17 years old there was no doubt that Ted was a charmer (Hilda always used to say that he’d definitely inherited Maurice’s gift of the gab). He held out his hand and asked Iris for a dance. From that moment, Ted began to court Iris with a winning mixture of innocence and determination.

Ted’s brother Maurice says: ‘Things settled into a romantic pattern quite quickly – they would meet at the club, dance and laugh and then Ted would walk Iris home and wait until she got safely into her house. After a few weeks of the same routine they had slipped into officially being a couple without anyone noticing – except for Mom, who noticed everything.’

There was no denying the mutual feelings – Ted was attentive, gentle and caring, making sure that Iris knew he liked her. Despite not having much money he always saw to it that he gave her a little gift at the end of each date night, even if it was just a slab of chocolate that cost him a shilling. But what Ted hadn’t bargained for was the merciless teasing from his mates once they found out Iris’s age!

It was around this time that The Carroll Levis Discovery Show turned up in Birmingham searching for new talent. Carroll Levis was a Godlike figure in the entertainment industry during the Fifties, a talent scout, impresario and radio personality – he knew what it took to be a star and could spot that quality a mile away. Ted heard on the grapevine that his talent show was touring the country looking for someone with ‘it’ and he was determined to try out, taking the morning off work to go along to the audition. He took the bus from Wednesbury into the centre of Birmingham and made his way to the auditions alone. Although just 17, he was far from worried about having to get up and sing. Out of everything in his life, he knew that was the one thing he was good at. Ted knocked them out by singing ‘Sweet Sixteen’ and got through to the next round, which was a recording of the radio programme in London. But sadly it was not to be. As Jane, his sister, adds: ‘No one really knows the full story as it’s lost in time. It could have changed his life if he went. Someone once said that it was because the contestants had to pay insurance to appear on the show – something our Ted couldn’t afford – and he didn’t end up going.’

For now, singing professionally remained a dream that he couldn’t afford to pursue, in more ways than one.

Ted bringing in a wage (along with the eldest of his younger brothers) did take the pressure off Hilda and Maurice and the younger boys as it allowed them to enjoy their childhoods in a relaxed way – they all loved football and they played for the local team. They devoted themselves to football in the same way Ted committed to his music; the big problem was that the older brothers only had one pair of football boots between them, which often led to a big showdown.

Hilda soon cottoned on to this – but rather than keeping them under lock and key so that everyone got a turn, she thought this could be a valuable lesson for the boys: ‘If you make the effort and get up early then you’ll reap the reward.’ The only thing she was adamant about was that all of them made sure the boots were clean and ready for the next person to use.

While the younger lads were bickering over boots and who scored the most goals, Maurice loved working with his eldest son and felt a huge sense of pride watching him learn the ropes. But despite the happy routine they had, which included Hilda making them both a full breakfast in the morning and putting out their work clothes all freshly pressed, they both knew that National Service was looming when Ted turned 18. He was a man now but that didn’t stop the whole family dreading his departure – in many ways he was a big part of the glue that held the household together and a great support to Hilda, who wondered what would happen to her son when he was away from her watchful eye.

In the meantime, Ted and Iris’s innocent and charming courtship continued. Ted would take Iris to the bandstand to listen to music and sit on the bus holding her hand, telling her how beautiful she was.

‘Yam [you are] the air I breathe,’ Ted would tell her constantly.

‘Come on now, Ted, you’re embarrassing me,’ she’d reply.