Birth to Reunion : The Pieces of Mind Story

By John 'Ducksy' Reardon

The Pieces of Mind were a popular group, from Newport, South Wales in the 1960s. This book looks at my early life; how I started playing guitars in groups, in the early 60s and went on to form the Pieces of Mind, in 1963, with a childhood friend.
50 years later, in 2013, I organised a reunion of most of the group members who played in the different versions of the group. The trials and tribulations I faced, in the months leading up to the gig, were outweighed by the extreme pleasure I got in seeing all my old friends playing on stage to numerous other old friends in the packed audience.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jan 2, 2015
• ISBN: 9781326143435

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Birth to Reunion : The Pieces of Mind Story

Copyright © 2013 by John ‘Ducksy’ Reardon

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

The right of John ‘Ducksy’ Reardon to be identified as the author has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Condition of Sale

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent publisher.

eBook design

John ‘Ducksy’ Reardon with photography from John Beardmore & Sam Gummer

eBook Edition: January 2015

ISBN: 978-1-326-14343-5

John ‘Ducksy’ Reardon

Visit our website at:

www.thepiecesofmind.com

Acknowledgements

This book would not have been possible without the understanding of my wife and family. I am a grouchy person at the best of times, however I am sure their patience has been tested to the limit whilst organising the reunion and writing this book.

Thanks to all my band friends for their help in making the reunion happen; John Beardmore and Glyn Williams for their recollections as our manager and roadie as well as taking numerous photographs and videos throughout the reunion. To all those who have ever been involved with the Pieces of Mind, whether in a playing or other role, I loved being with you all.

Many thanks to Johnnie Walker and his wife for taking the time to come to a gig in a small Welsh town and both introduce the band and offer moving words on cancer.

To Franca Nigro and the other ladies from St David’s Hospice Care, I cannot thank you enough for the fantastic work you are all doing.

Thanks to those who donated prizes for the raffle and Jayne Gibbon, Jill Lawton and Kim Teague; the wives who helped cajole the audience to buy tickets. I especially like to thank Jayne for the hospitality she has shown me every time I visited Wales.

A special note of thanks to Steve Leman, who spent time and money in ensuring the Reunion, was a success. Despite never being a member of the Pieces of Mind, every request I made, from design of artwork, such as the POM logo, to a loan of a drum-set, was met with the words ‘No problem’.

Thanks to those in the wonderful audience, without whom; the reunion gig would not have been possible. There are too many names to list; however, you know who you are.

Several band members sadly could not make the reunion.   Dave Martin and Dave Sargent - we all fondly remember you and may you both rest in peace.  Garnett ‘Chippy’ Chapman and Dave ‘Kubie’ Kubinec, I hope your health improves and you are able to attend a future gig.  Lastly, we mourn the sudden passing of Phil Edwards in February 2014.  He will always be fondly remembered

Preface

1963. The Beatles had recently achieved their first number one record with ‘Please, Please Me’ and I left grammar school with what must have been to my parents a disappointing number of GCE ‘O’ Levels. They had worked hard to find the money to provide me with private tuition after I had lost nearly two years of schooling in the mid to late 50s due to illness. The extra tuition paid off by me passing the 11 plus and going to a grammar school. Then in 1961 my parents bought me a guitar for Christmas.

Within 2 years, along with a good friend, I formed the Pieces of Mind. We were a Rhythm and Blues group that became extremely popular over a period of 4-5 years playing the clubs, pubs, schools and ballrooms, mainly in South Wales. During that time we supported many well-known groups including Gene Vincent, Johnny Kidd and the Pirates, Manfred Man, The Moody Blues and The Who.

2013. I am standing on a stage in Cwmbran Working Men’s Club Band Club and Institute Pontypool South Wales with most of my band mates from the 60s celebrating a 50th anniversary reunion and about to play the first few notes of the opening number in the first set to a packed hall of well over 250 people.

Am I dreaming?

Introduction

The Pieces of Mind were a popular group from Newport South Wales in the 1960s. Like many in the early 60's I wanted to join in the 'new' music emerging at the time. Some friends from near where I lived and I decided we would form a pop group. We begged our parents to get us some electric guitars and my brother Terry wanted to be the drummer.

My parents bought me an electric guitar on hire purchase and Terry got a snare drum. We started practicing and before long it became obvious that my brother was not really interested and also suffered from a complete absence of rhythm, so he gave up.

We found a replacement drummer from the school I attended and my first memories of playing live for money were at a local Youth Club playing Shadows tunes. The club let us practice and allowed us to play regularly at dances. I was about 15 and a half.

I spent some time in various groups and show bands formed with friends in School and from where I lived. Eventually I got sick of just messing about so formed the Pieces of Mind.

In 1963 I was working in an office of a local steel company and persuaded a 'good looking' colleague that he should join the group as vocalist. This he did and we spent the next 4-5 years having an amazing time playing the clubs, pubs, schools and ballrooms in South Wales and surrounding areas. We played various types of music, such as Blues, Soul and R&B. We also had many formations ranging from just bass, drums, lead guitar and vocals to having approximately 10-12 in the lineup including organ, trombone, trumpet, and harmonica.

We got on well with a local promoter called Maurice (Mo) Wight who owned a music shop in Newport. Mo, now sadly passed away, used the Pieces of Mind as support act for the many well-known groups he brought to South Wales. These included: Billy Fury, Chicken Shack, Stu James & the Mojos, Georgie Fame & the Blue Flames, David Bowie, Gene Vincent, Johnny Kidd and the Pirates, Manfred Man, Marty Wilde, The Applejacks, The Hollies, The Merseybeats, The Moody Blues, The Nashville Teens, The Pretty Things, The Searchers and The Who.

Eventually many in the group wanted to try for the 'big time' so they decided they would turn professional and go to London. As I was due to get married later on that year I decided to stay at home. The bass player had also decided to quit as he was already married.

The group recruited replacements for both of us and went to Germany where they became very popular throughout the seedy bars and nightclubs in Hamburg. They would appear at venues like the Star Club and the Top Ten on the infamous Reeperbahn in Hamburg where a few years earlier The Beatles had cut their musical teeth.

This book looks at my early life; how I started playing guitars in groups in the early 60s and went on to form the Pieces of Mind in 1963 with a childhood friend.

50 years later in 2013 I organised a reunion of most of the group members who played in the different versions of the group. This ended up with 13 group members playing a sell-out gig to nearly 300 people in a club in South Wales. The trials and tribulations I faced in the months leading up to the reunion gig were outweighed by the extreme pleasure I got in seeing all my old friends playing on stage to numerous other old friends in the packed audience.

Chapter 1: Birth

I was born in Newport South Wales on the 21st March 1946, which apparently was a Thursday. I was the second of three children my parents had and was one of those born in the baby boom after the Second World War. My older sister Judy would have just been old enough to understand she now had a baby brother to play with and look after.

I was given the forenames of John William Patrick, which was and still is a bit of a mouthful however it could have been much worse. In spite of it not being shown on the marriage certificate my father had an additional middle name of Aloysius, which was apparently a traditional name along with Patrick for males in his family. I was supposed to have been given that name as well but my mother intervened and I was given a middle name of William instead. I thank her for her saving me from years of embarrassment.

My father’s family originally came from Southern Ireland; however I cannot confirm when they moved to Wales. The whole family was of the Catholic religion however I think my father must have fallen out with the Church as I was christened as Church of England.

The surname ‘Reardon’ according to the Internet is an interesting name of Medieval Irish origin and is an alternative form of Riordan, which in Irish Gaelic is O'Riordain. The earlier form O'Rioghbhardain reveals its derivation from 'Rioghbhard' meaning Royal bard with the 'O' denoting 'descendant of'. Perhaps my love of music originated from my family roots.

Because early scribes and church officials often spelled names as they sounded a person could have many various spellings of his name. Many variations of the surname can be found in archives. These include O’Riordan, Riordan, O’Rearden, Rearden and others. The name was first found in County Cork.

Newport is a city just over 12 miles east of Cardiff, which is the capital of Wales. In my childhood Cardiff was 16 miles away so either a mile has shrunk or more likely that roads have been re-routed. According to their official website the town of Newport was created after the Normans conquered Gwent in 1093. In the early 12th century they built a castle by a ford in the river Usk and soon a little town grew up by the castle.

Other records including ‘An Outline History of Medieval Newport’, (Trett, Bob¹) state that Newport goes back even further to the 5th or 6th Century. Tradition states that Saint Gwynllyw established a wooden Church on the top of Stow Hill, which in Saxon times was rebuilt in stone and became to be known as St Woolos.

The Newport of 2013 has changed a lot from the Newport I left in 1971. The Newport City Council web site states that Newport is undergoing major changes with many parts of the city being redeveloped to create a better environment for people to live, work and visit. The Newport I visited in March and April 2013 did not give me the impression of a better environment.

Driving through the city the first time for well over 30 years it looked more like a bombsite. There is a lot of work left to turn what was once a great town-centre back to something better or at least similar.

My parents got married on the 7th of February 1944 at St Patrick’s Church in Cromwell Road Newport. The hall adjacent to this Church was to be a pivotal point in my musical career some 19 years later. My father’s profession on the certificate is listed as a motor van driver for a laundry and my mother was a packer at the same laundry. Their forenames as shown on their marriage certificate were Joseph and Doris however for some unknown reason my father was always called Dennis and my mother went under the name of Flo.

I have no idea what laundry my parents worked for or where it was. I guess it would have been in the Corporation Road area of Newport as my father lived in Vivian Road and my mother in Cromwell Road.

My father joined the Army as a volunteer 3 months after getting married. His Soldiers Service and Pay book shows him as enlisting at 52 Primary Training Wing Bury St Edmunds on the 4th May 1944. He was barely 18. He had to travel over 200 miles to join his first unit but apparently this was quite a common occurrence in the war.

My father in 1943

Not sure where this was taken but it might have been just before he joined the Army.

His trade on enlistment was that of a Driver and he received specialist employment whilst serving stating his nature of employment was ‘Batman, DVR I/C 10.4.P’. I am not sure what that meant but I have a couple of photographs showing him riding a motorcycle and in motorcycle gear so assume he was some sort of dispatch rider.

My father on his motorbike

I am not sure where this was taken or what year but he does look young so guess it was 1944.

His Soldier’s Release Book shows him as disembarking from the British Army of the Rhine (BAOR) on the 9th November 1947. He was given 56 days release leave expiring on the 5th January 1948. He was last serving with 950 Company the Royal Army Service Corps (RASC); his military conduct was ‘Very Good’ and he was awarded the 1939-45 Medal and Star together with the France Germany Star.

I received the contents of my father’s service record from the Army Personnel Centre which confirms that he spent 3 years and 5 months in the Army, of which all but 3 months was spent in North West Europe, mainly Germany. His notification of Impending Release Testimonial states:

‘A keen efficient 3-ton vehicle driver who works well and is respected as a dependable man by superiors and his comrades. He is honest, trustworthy and of very sober habits. Recommended to any employers requiring a sensible trustworthy man’.

Some facts emerged from the records that I was not aware of. On 27th June 1944 he was awarded 14 days ‘Confined to Barracks’ and forfeited 1 days pay for being Absent Whilst on Leave.  As the date was around the time my sister was born I assume he must have been on leave in Newport. He was due back by midnight of the 24th June 1944 and didn’t get in until 0900 on the 25th June 1944, a mere 9 hours and he received 14 days punishment.

My Father in Antwerp

I am not sure where this was taken however the original photograph has Antwerp written on the back and so I guess it was the same as the earlier photograph

On 23rd July 1945 he sustained injuries of a trivial nature to his arm, right leg and knee.  He was on duty and not to blame; but there was no mention of what caused the injuries.

Finally I noticed on his Record of Service Paper that when answering the question ‘Are you a British Subject’ he had first written ‘English’ and then crossed it out and replaced it with ‘Welsh’. Interestingly he had written that both his parents were English. I knew his mother was borne in Calne Wiltshire but I always thought his father was Irish.

Newport was subjected to numerous air raids during the war as the German planes were searching for the industrial areas and docks of South Wales. My mother told me once how she was supposed to stay one night with a friend in her house but she didn’t for some reason. That night several German mines were dropped on Newport and one hit her friend’s house killing her and others. I think she said the house was in Archibald Street but it may have been Eveswell Street, which was adjacent. Parachute mines were dropped on both streets on the 1st July 1941, which co-incidentally was the same day that St Julian’s High School was opened. This incident was just one of many lucky escapes from the stretching arms of death that had a large presence in my childhood.

My first real memories were living in one of the pre-fabricated buildings that were built after the war as temporary accommodation to house people affected by the bombing in the war. Our prefab in Bishpool Lane was still standing over 60 years later before being demolished in the last few years to make room for modern bungalows. Coincidentally I only found out whilst writing this book that John Beardmore lived a few doors away from us at that time.

I think our prefab had a coal fire as I have faint memories of having a weekly all over wash in a large tin bath in front of the fire. The water, which was heated up on the fire in a large cast iron kettle had to be shared amongst those washing. It’s a lot different to the daily showers I take now.

A couple of years after I was born my mother gave birth to a younger brother for me. I have always considered myself lucky in that I never really experienced the issues that most middle children seem to suffer from. I didn’t have to wear many hand-me-downs having a sister Judy as the older sibling certainly not as many as my younger brother did. I certainly never felt as if I was neglected in favour of my sister or brother.

Perhaps the only trait of the so-called middle child syndrome I think I have is that of being a bit of a loner. However I put this more down to having spent a large portion of my early childhood in hospitals rather than being a middle child.

Sometime before March 1952 my parents moved from our prefab in Bishpool Lane to a more modern terraced house in Elgar Avenue, Alway Estate. I am not sure of the exact date however the Record of Service for my father has the Elgar Avenue address shown against his release from the Army with a date of 18th March 1952 against it. The move meant I was a lot nearer to Alway Junior School and could easily walk to and from school.

Not long after moving my mother had a tracheotomy operation. I don’t know the exact reason why she needed the operation but I know she was told she might die if she didn’t. A tracheotomy is an operation that opens up the trachea or windpipe and is performed when a person has difficulty in breathing. After the operation she had a tube in her throat for a few weeks before it was removed and the hole was sewn back up.

She was fine for a few years but eventually she had to go back into hospital to have the tube put back in permanently. My parents told us that she had to have this done because the original operation was not quite a success. They both believed it was due to the fact she was one of the first to have this operation in Newport and perhaps the surgeons had not quite perfected the technique. Whatever the reason my mother had a hole in her in throat that she inserted a tube daily until the day she died.

Living with the tracheotomy tube permanently inserted presented many challenges for my mother. Apart from the uncomfortable feeling, which she eventually got used to and having a quieter than normal voice, she was often embarrassed at having to explain what was wrong with her and tell people that it wasn’t a necklace. The worst time she had was when she caught a cold; at times she could hardly breathe through the tube, as it was full of mucus.

The real strong memories are that I appeared to have had almost every childhood illness spending a large proportion of my early life in and out of hospitals. Pneumonia was followed by scarlet fever, mumps, measles, tonsillitis, thyroid problems, Osgood-Schlatter disease, broken arms (four times) and then the big one Tuberculosis (TB).

I saw my medical files on one hospital visit and there were at least 3 folders each of which was nearly 2 inches thick. When we were young I cannot recall my brother having similar medical issues and I can only remember my sister having a problem with one of her kidneys.

Like many children I suffered from tonsillitis and I ended up going into St Woolos hospital to have my tonsils taken out. I think I spent 2-3 days in hospital and I can remember being pushed on a trolley down to the operating theatre before I succumbed to the anesthetic. After the operation the food I was given included ice cream and burnt toast. I can understand the ice cream as my throat was tender but not sure why the toast however it must have had an effect on me as I love burnt toast to this day.

I spent over 2 years in a couple of hospitals that were for some unknown reason at opposite sides of the country. When I was 7 years old in 1953 I was sent to a hospital run by nuns in Essex. I think it was in Woodford Green. I am not sure of the exact date I was admitted as both the Christmas 1953 and July 1954 school reports from class 1S at Alway Junior School have comments mentioning I have worked hard despite a long absence. The July 1953 report also from class 1S just has the comment ‘John has worked hard this term’ so I assume I must have been admitted sometime after the start of the autumn term.

My mother and children

She is holding my brother Terry and I am standing next to my older sister Judy. I think the photograph was taken near my grandparents’ house either in Cromwell Road or Oliver Road in about 1950. The shed on the right makes me think it was more likely to be Oliver Road as it looks like the lane at the back of their garden leading to a grassed play area.

Judy and Terry

My siblings Judy and Terry attend a Christmas party.  As I wasn’t in the photograph it must have been when I was in hospital. It could have been one of the Christmas parties held in the Lysaghts Institute as my uncle used to work for W.R. Lysaght. 

I also recall going round to my Great Nana Mitchell’s house in Magor Street to see the Coronation in June on her recently acquired television so I must have gone into hospital after then. I think she was one of the first in the street to get a television as most of the neighbours were sat around the living room. At the time the children wanted to watch the Cisco Kid or Hopalong Cassidy instead but the grown-ups all wanted to watch the Coronation.

I have very little recollections of my time at the hospital other than breaking my left arm on a climbing frame and the fact the nuns were very strict particularly when bathing the children. For some reason the one that bathed me insisted on scrubbing me with a hard bristle brush particularly around the really tender parts of my body.

My other memory is of my parents visiting me. I was let out of the hospital so they could take me on a trip into London and visit Trafalgar Square. I had a photograph taken feeding the pigeons and my mother cut a lock off my hair. I am not sure why she did this perhaps she thought I wasn’t going to get well and die in the hospital I really don’t know.

When I was young I had a mop of blond curly hair as you can just about see in the photograph of my mother holding Terry. My Nana Redmond was always telling me to eat my crusts on bread, as I wouldn’t get nice curly hair. To increase the chances of it being curly she often put those wavers that looked like massive bulldog clips into my hair after it had been washed. Everybody apart from me loved my blond curly hair. I just wanted it to be straight.

I cannot locate the Trafalgar Square photograph but I still have the lock of hair that was cut off that day. I regret not asking my mother before she died why she did this.

I can’t remember anyone ever mentioning to me what illness I had been suffering from. I assume my parents or at least the doctors knew but nobody told me. With hindsight it must have been the early onset of TB.

I then had a relatively illness free year apart from breaking my right arm when playing with a football in my Nana’s garden in Cromwell Road. I was trying to dribble the ball whilst holding a jam sandwich in my hand and somehow fell over. I felt a lot of pain and looked at my hand to see a bit of bone sticking out. I immediately bawled my eyes out and started screaming.

My Nana who was a nurse picked me up and took me into her house where she put my arm in a sling. She then put her coat on; placed my coat over my shoulders and took me to the bus stop, which was just outside where she lived. She was taking me to our doctor who was in a surgery on Corporation Road near where the Coliseum Cinema was at Clarence Place. I think she thought it would be quicker to take me there rather than go to a call box to ring for an ambulance.

We sat on one of the side seats at the back of the bus near where you got on. I was still crying my eyes out and other passengers were quite shocked to see bits of my bone and blood peering out of my sling. I think the conductor must have had some sympathy for me as he told the driver not to stop at the 2-3 bus stops until we got to the one near the doctors. He also didn’t take our fares.

At the surgery the receptionist took me straight in to see the doctor who took a look at my arm and said it was a bad greenstick fracture and I needed to go to the Royal Gwent Hospital to have it treated. Hours later, most of which was spent still crying we caught a bus back with my arm in Plaster of Paris.

Just over the road from the Coliseum cinema was the Odeon. This was a lovely Art Deco style of building, which opened just before the Second World War. This was my favourite cinema in Newport. I spent many a Saturday morning there singing ‘We are the Ovaltinies, Happy Girls’ and Boys’. I think those days are long gone.

The Odeon, which closed in 1981, has been given a council grant and is undergoing refurbishment. I am not sure when it is due to officially open or whether it will remain as a cinema but it is great that it hasn’t been demolished. John Beardmore spoke just before our reunion gig to one of the people working on the refurbishment and they said it’s going quite well.

In the autumn of I