My Generation Wales in the Sixties

They say, if you can remember the '60s, you weren't really there.

But in this series,

we meet Welsh people who definitely were there,

and remember it all - vividly.

I remember buying With The Beatles and thinking,

I will never be unhappy again...

because I have this!

I get to my O-levels, and I haven't done anything.

They were teaching me about 1066 and I wanted to know about Route 66.

Seeing all these people dancing around with flowers,

at first I was thinking, "What's going on? That's very odd!"

But it was fantastic.

Spit-and-paste mascara - it did make your eyelashes look really good.

The family, they hadn't seen anything like this before,

because we were the new generation.

We didn't want our mothers to tell us what to wear -

I certainly didn't!

This is the extraordinary story

of the rebellion by the younger generation

that grew up in Wales in the 1960s.

The '60s generation was born into a Wales little changed in decades.

Its old institutions and industries seemed

more and more out of touch to many children.

Their parents and grandparents belonged to generations

brought up in the old chapel way of life.

But now, children struggled to connect with the religious passion

that had helped build the chapels in Victorian times.

Joy King remembers Sundays growing up in Morriston.

It was a bit boring, because the minister,

when you thought that he'd finished his sermon,

he'd shut the bible

and you'd think, "Oh, good, he's finished now."

He was only getting second wind then, you know!

He was just into his stride then, really. And he'd start up again.

'And as a child, I actually thought that God

'WAS Mr Evans, the chapel minister.'

Entire families went to three services

held at their local chapel each Sunday.

In between, there were meals to be eaten.

The finery was changed - Sunday lunch.

A big thing, Sunday lunch.

It seemed it was meat and 17 veg.

And then there was a big Sunday afternoon tea -

the big, white lace cloth,

and the tinned fruit and the tinned cream,

and all the cakes

that your grandmother had been busy baking on Saturday.

Observing Sunday as a day of rest

conformed to the pious expectations of the chapel community.

Yet within families,

children learnt that rules could be broken where necessary.

There was a Bracchi cafe in front of us where I lived, an Italian cafe.

And in the morning, the lady in the cafe, she'd go to Mass.

And my grandmother would say, "Well, well, look at her now.

"She's going to Mass, see?" But when they come back from Mass, she'd say,

"That cafe is going to be open on the Sabbath,

"it can't be right, see, it's not right."

But when we would have the apple tart and the cream she'd say to me,

"Go down now, go to the back door of the cafe

"with a glass dish

"and ask for six blobs of ice cream

"to go with the tart." Well, that was all right, then,

that the Bracchi cafe was open, nothing wrong with that then at all.

But she'd send me, a child,

so that nobody would really see me go in, you see.

But in the early '60s, the power of the chapel was in steep decline,

its rigid conformity no longer in tune with the people.

Nowhere in Wales were the old chapel values defied more openly

than in Tiger Bay.

# It was St David's Day

# When we got in Tiger Bay... #

Cardiff's first mixed-race community

captured the new spirit of freedom that was in the air.

Writer Neil Sinclair remembers growing up in Frances Street.

You'd go out into the street

and every street

had its own gang of kids.

And I was part of the Frances Street kids

and Terry, Anthony, Johnny Lima,

we'd always play together.

And then we might be playing rounders in the street,

bat and the ball,

and then we could hear the thud of feet coming down Canal Parade,

and they were singing from the top of their voices,

"Ooh-ah, ooh-ah-eh, we are the boys from Tiger Bay...!"

# We know our manners

# We spent our tanners

# We are respected wherever we go... #

And you'd say, "Oh, this is the Nelson Street kids!"

So we'd run down to the corner and they'd be marching

and we got behind them and we would march and we would sing along

and end up in Loudoun Square - and it was like that!

As children grew up, few escaped the 11+ exam.

If you passed, you went to grammar school,

but if you failed, it would be a secondary modern.

The gulf between the two was enormous.

Annie Haden grew up on the Portmead Estate in Swansea.

In fairness, the one lovely memory of that exam

is that it was Mr Jones the Welsh teacher

plodding up and down.

And he was looking at our papers,

he was obviously looking to make sure we weren't cheating.

But he looked at mine and he said,

"Read that again."

And just carried on plodding.

So I did read it again, and I did answer it differently,

so maybe it's Mr Jones that I should thank

for getting me through to grammar school.

In Wales, grammar schools were seen as a passport

to a successful future - but end up in a secondary modern,

and there would be little hope for you.

Guitarist Andy Fairweather Low grew up in Llanrumney, near Cardiff.

I remember walking to the 11+. I knew it was coming,

didn't really understand what it was. The great thing about me,

even to this day, is, I'm not bright...at those kind of things.

I'm focused on what I do but outside of that...

So, it's 11+, it's a big deal. I remember sitting down

and I swear I remember that question that went,

"Which weighs more - a tonne of tar or a ton of feathers?"

And obviously it's a ton of tar, for god's sake!

It was just another moment, it came in a letter or something -

all I knew was, I'd failed.

I had a friend and we were both approaching the time now

when the 11+ was coming up.

We used to discuss together about being in

what we termed as the "snobby grammar school".

I think we thought we wouldn't be able

to live up to the expectations, really,

and our little lives would change a lot, you know.

"I tell you what we'll do now," I said.

"When they put the papers in front of us,"

I said, "all right, there'll be some questions we genuinely don't know,

"but to be on the safe side,"

I said, "we'll put wrong answers down for some of the questions."

And that was it.

They come and they call names out, those that have passed.

Well, my name wasn't called out and Chris' name wasn't called out.

Now my grandmother has high hopes.

They wanted you to have this,

because they wanted you to have a better life than what they had had.

"Well," she said, "what did they say?"

"'Wi wedi ffaelu", I said. I failed!

She must have just stood there in slow motion.

She couldn't move,

I said, "I failed!"

Well, the house was in mourning.

Education in Wales had long been seen as the ladder to a better life

and the language of education was English.

Sit down, my boys.

Ar y ddesg...

'In the early 1960s, though,

'there was a movement in schools

'to develop the teaching of the Welsh language.'

'This was despite the fact

'that many people regarded Welsh as a dying language

'that would not be needed by children in the future.'

Actor Sharon Morgan grew up in Glanamman, Carmarthenshire.

I felt that Welsh was a really old-fashioned language

that was irrelevant to me -

I suppose all the books that I was reading,

like Little Women and Jane Eyre

and all these things that I was reading, were in English,

and yet everybody in the village could speak Welsh.

In many parts of north and west Wales,

the older generation were totally Welsh-speaking.

However, children in these rural communities

were only allowed to speak English at school.

Sharon Morgan went to the English-speaking

Queen Elizabeth Grammar School For Girls in Carmarthen.

We discovered in the school I suppose that 90% of the girls

could speak Welsh,

and most of the teachers spoke Welsh,

but nobody knew - it was like a hidden secret thing.

It was dreadful, it was a terrible ignorance about who you were.

My mother and lots of my friends,

we began to speak Welsh,

it became the norm to speak Welsh to each other

and it was just a huge, huge turning point.

Singer Heather Jones grew up in the Heath in North Cardiff.

Well, I first heard the Welsh language

I suppose not in the home, because Mum and Dad didn't speak Welsh

and my brothers weren't very good at it...

Was in the local school.

We had a lovely new teacher and she used to give me a line to read,

sort of... "Mae'r haul yn tywynnu."

The sun is shining, or something.

And that's when I started to really mix with the girls in my class,

who spoke Welsh, and there were some girls who were interested

in singing and playing the guitar,

and we formed a group called Y Cyfeillion - The Friends.

The Beatles were starting to come into popularity in the early '60s,

and we all had guitars for birthday presents, you know.

The balls had gone out the window.

Jokari had gone out the window.

Pretty dresses had gone out the window,

it was all guitars, guitars, guitars.

CROWD SCREAMS

# She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah

# She loves you Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah... #

Cardiff got a rare chance to see The Beatles live

when they performed at the Capitol on the 7th November 1964.

The Beatles were at the forefront

of a rebellion driven by pop music.

It encouraged the younger generation to have fun and live for the moment.

I remember buying With The Beatles, that first LP,

and I remember clutching it

and walking down the hill home

with sort of The Fab Four, as they were called afterwards,

with their fringes and their polo necks and thinking,

"I will never be unhappy again."

Because I have this!

Ah, you know, it was just amazing.

# And then while I'm away

# I'll write home every day

# And I'll send all my lovin' to you

# All my lovin'... #

The Fab Four from Liverpool

had the most profound effect on the nation's youth.

But they were not the only group to rock the foundations of Wales.

# I wanna tell you how it's gonna be

# You're gonna give your love to me... #

I get persuaded to go and see The Rolling Stones

on a package bill at Sophia Gardens.

Erm, and that was it, I was done.

It was new and it was exciting, and it wasn't about being clever.

SCREAMING AS MUSIC PLAYS

# And they never stopped rockin'

# Till the moon went down... #

SCREAMING CONTINUES

You fell into two camps -

you either liked the Stones or the Beatles.

Well, I liked the Beatles, until one day my da said,

"Well, I don't know, mind," he said,

"they look clean-cut, they wear collar and ties."

Well, that was it. I thought, "Right, I'm right off them,"

and I decided I liked the Stones better.

# Well, if you ever plan to motor west

# Just take my way That's the highway, that's the best

# Get your kicks

# On route 66... #

The music had a powerful influence on many school children.

Some boys in Cardiff trapped in secondary moderns

even felt it offered a future career.

My mother had ushered us out,

and the other two would go to school,

my older brother and my younger brother.

And I'd hang around the corner, wait till my mother had gone -

see that she's gone, I had my key, I'd go back in.

We had a little Dansette record player,

and I would put on a Rolling Stones album,

and then I'd try and learn and I'd practise.

And I'd watch the time and then I'd get out

before my mother come back home.

While still at school,

Andy Fairweather Low formed a group with some of his mates.

A really important year, and I'm playing working men's clubs

and church halls

at least four nights a week.

And on the other nights, I'm playing guitar in the bedroom.

So, I get to my O-levels, I'll never forget it -

it's a big moment -

erm, and I haven't done anything.

It was hopeless. But you know, I wasn't there.

I didn't want to be there.

You know, they were teaching me about 1066

and I wanted to know about Route 66 - there's the difference.

# ..get your kicks

# On Route 66. #

The revolution in music

was matched by an explosion in fashion.

For young teenage girls, it was an irresistible attraction.

I would leave home with the right length skirt, down to your knee -

just above it. But on the way to school,

it would start being rolled up until, in the end,

I'd have a big wodge of roll around my middle,

the tie would be shortened to look a little bit...

you know?

But keeping pace with fast-changing fashions

often got them into trouble

for breaking strict rules on school uniform.

I remember wearing tights,

strange, very thick sort of ballet tights

and being called up in front of the headmistress

and saying, "How dare you wear...?"

You're supposed to wear little white socks, of course,

very particular little white socks. "You can't wear these."

They seemed to be the work of the devil, tights.

I was in the school choir, and in we'd troop onto the stage

and as I walked in,

with my miniskirt rolled up

and looking pretty hip, I thought,

the deputy head decided to pick me out

and started to pull my skirt down

to its regulation length.

But as she did it, the zip broke,

so what happened was

I was standing in front of this honoured guest list in my knickers -

and they were not regulation navy-blue knickers either.

# I used to get mad at my school

# Teachers that taught me weren't cool

# I can't complain

# They're holding me down Turning me round

# Filling me up with your rules

# I've got to admit It's getting better... #

It was very important to have the right make-up,

but at school, make-up was also strictly forbidden.

So, girls ignored this rule, too.

With make-up, we were all dark-eyed. Yeah, dark-eyed.

Very Biba, very Mary Quant,

and pale lips.

but you could get around it by using things that your mother used,

actually, in the war.

And that was the old...

spit-and-paste mascara -

MaxFactor's spit-and-paste mascara.

Which was actually brilliant,

because even though it was a brush,

it did make your eyelashes look really good,

but you could cover it by making it look really natural as well,

so we all ended up dark-eyelashed.

# I never met a girl who makes me feel the way that you do...

# You're all right... #

London's clothes shops in Carnaby Street and Kensington

dominated the fashion scene of the Swinging '60s.

The huge metropolis was another world

compared to the small communities of Wales.

For the fashion-hungry teenagers of Swansea,

the contrast with London could not have been greater.

When people think of the '60s,

they think of Mary Quant and Biba,

but that didn't filter down for a long time

to small little valley towns and villages.

We didn't have the money. So you went to buy your clothes at C,

and you'd buy a dress for 19 and 11.

And I bought this dress -

it was navy paisley,

and it had an Empire line and the frilly sleeves

and the frilly collars like we'd seen Cilla Black and Sandy Shaw wearing.

Now, that was great, and you went out in this dress -

it was up here and up here.

And when you came home in the night, you took it off,

and of course they were cheap clothes,

and the lining of the dress was navy.

And, of course, every time you wore this dress

the dye came off on your underwear -

but you didn't care, because you looked good!

The crocheted dress came in -

well, you couldn't afford to buy them, so we all made our own.

And looking back, they were really indecent when you think of it.

They were very short, they were down here,

you could see through them,

but we thought we looked absolutely fantastic.

I mitched off school, got up there,

and I would go into Carnaby Street

just trying clothes on -

I had a wonderful time.

Didn't buy anything because I couldn't afford it,

but I WAS it in the moment,

and I loved it, because I became a different person with every outfit.

We'd go down there - there's Lord John...

There's everything was going on -

crazy colours, crazy shirts,

you'd see someone and you'd go, "Right, where'd you get it?"

Well, there's only one place you could get it - it's Carnaby Street.

# I've got to find that girl

# If I have to hitch-hike around the world... #

But some who got the opportunity to travel to London

were able to buy the real thing,

and bring it back to Wales.

Politician Kim Howells grew up in Penywaun near Aberdare.

I remember going down to Carnaby Street,

and I got myself an elephant-cord suit,

and I hitchhiked back to Penywaun.

And I had a lift at the top of Penywaun Hill,

and as I walked down through Penywaun,

all the kids started coming out - "Oh...!" You know,

and reaching out and touching me, you know.

"Oh, look at that, it's fabulous."

I got to the front door of our house in Penywaun and I knocked the door

and my mother opened the door and she said, "Oh, you look fantastic!"

Many young people from Wales

sampled the new ideas and ways of living being explored in the '60s.

The love-in at Woburn Abbey in 1967

was one of the first pop festivals in Britain.

For teenagers like Clive Sweet from Llandudno,

the event opened up a whole new world.

Seeing all these people dancing around with flowers,

at first I was thinking, "What's going on? It's very odd!"

You know!

People dancing around with flowers in their hair

and all this kind of stuff, and somebody said, "Love and peace,"

and I thought, "What the heck is he talking about, love and peace?"

But it was fantastic, it was something that

I hadn't seen before, and it made me think another way, another approach.

We made our own kaftans out of curtains!

And we had a bell round our neck,

you know, kind of, ding-ding-ding!

Eventually, as we were walking up the street,

only took us about half an hour

before we just got fed up with this ding-ding-ding,

and threw it on the ground, got rid of it. "Oh, man!"

Music and dance were integral to the way of life of Tiger Bay.

But in the '60s,

teenagers from this mixed-race community

found themselves at the forefront of changes to the old order.

Nights out in Tiger Bay

were now part of a new and exciting culture emerging.

Musically, Tiger Bay had a very eclectic taste,

so if you went to The Annex on a Friday night,

you're likely to get up and dance to Fats Domino's My Blue Heaven,

and immediately afterwards, West African High Life.

And so when you went out,

you danced to everything before the night was over.

# I'm gonna wait till the midnight hour

# That's when my love comes tumbling down

# I'm gonna wait till the midnight hour

# That's when my love begins to shine... #

While the impact of music from outside Wales

fired the passions of a generation of schoolchildren,

a vibrant scene emerged

around performances of old and new songs in the Welsh language.

Welsh pop was born.

There'd be these things called pinnacles of pop,

noson lawen - "happy evening" is the direct translation of noson lawen.

And you'd go and there'd be all these groups and individuals singing

and we'd go on a bus then to those.

And the first group was called yBlew, which means "The Hair,"

which was the first electric Welsh group.

And they'd have dances -

for the first time you could dance to Welsh music.

Until the '60s, going out for the evening in west Wales

was often the preserve of adult men.

But now, even pubs were no longer off limits to teenage schoolgirls.

Sharon Morgan remembers nights out in Carmarthen.

We'd go out to local dances in Carmarthen, in St Peter's Hall,

but there was also the twmpath, which was the Welsh folk dancing -

we'd just grab any sort of social occasion really, and join in.

And we didn't have cars but we had friends who did,

and so we used to drink underage.

We'd sit in the back drinking cider or we'd actually go to pubs -

landlords didn't seem to mind in those days

and we used to drink what we used to call the poor girl's black velvet,

which was Guinness with cider on top, you know - pints.

MUSIC: Y Brawd Houdini by Meic Stevens

During the 1960s, the impact of pop music and fashion

on the generation of children growing into adults was profound.

No longer did you remain a child whilst still at school.

Now, they were a part of the new sexual revolution -

Wales would never be the same again.

# Better try, try, try Oh, my

# Let's spend the night together

# Now I need you more than ever... #

You had things like the Rolling Stones -

Let's Spend The Night Together.

Ye gods - the chapels were up in arms.

And even we said to each other,

"Does he really sing that?"

Because even we couldn't believe that there was somebody up there

saying to you now, it's all right, guys and gals,

if you want to spend the night together.

We couldn't imagine it, we girls had to be home on the 10 o'clock bus,

never mind spending the night with anybody.

But the family, they hadn't seen anything like this before,

because we were the new generation.

We thought it was a whole new world, we wanted to be part of it,

we wanted to dress the way WE wanted to dress,

we wanted to do the things WE wanted to do,

we wanted OUR music, OUR culture.

And next time on Wales In The Sixties

we see how this new generation broke all the old rules

on sex before marriage.

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd