WALLY REMEMBERS episode #2

For details of my 50 year association with, and my tribute and thanks to, WALLY HOUSER - astute West End solicitor, Ronnie Scott’s lawyer, be-bop alto saxophonist, and all-round splendid fellow (as Ken Baldock would have said), please refer to my introduction to WALLY REMEMBERS episode #1 a few Musings back..

Here’s my good friend Wally again with some more salty reminiscences. Over to you, Wal……………………

Hands up who went to the CLUB 11. If you put your hand up, it’s a lie. Even I who am so old that I was in the first batch of Covid Vaccineers never went there.

It was the first British be-bop club and was so called I believe because there were ten musicians and HARRY MORRIS. Harry was a lovely guy, a great pal of Ronnie’s, who died suddenly in about 1963 while sitting in his car outside Ronnie Scott’s club in Gerrard St.

Then there was DENNIS ROSE, the godfather of British be-bop. Dennis had played in the Johhny Claes band with a very youthful Ronnie Scott. He was a fair pianist and trumpet player.

He was the first to grasp the intricate rhythms and complex harmonies of Diz and Bird. He also dodged the army during the war. In 1962, Dennis found himself in prison. In those days, if you failed to pay alimony to your ex-wife, it was treated as contempt of court and you were banged up until you purged your contempt by paying.

Harry Morris decided that I, as a solicitor, should visit Dennis in Brixton prison to explain that the old Club 11 members had had a whip round and would pay the outstanding money.. He came into the visitors’ room where I was waiting. He was a tall saturnine rather intimidating figure.. His first words to me were “Who the fuck are you?” I explained about Harry Morris and the whip round. Dennis said “Well tell Harry Morris to fuck off and you can fuck off and all”. From this, I deduced that he was feeling grumpy so I did as bidden.

Later I discovered that he did not wish to pay his wife any maintenance as, in his view, she was the guilty party. In due course he was released, as he would have to have been eventually, and after that I met him at Ronnie’s where he was apologetic. Dennis proved to be as funny as or funnier than Ronnie himself. There was a very handsome black guy who worked at Ronnie’s. Dennis asked “Who’s Dark Gable over there?”

While in Soho, let me mention the Downbeat club, a hangout for musicians run by Jackie Sharpe and Mike Senn, themselves good saxophone players. For a time the pianist there was the incomparable Alan Clare, friend of Ronnie and Spike Milligan. When Alan left, JOE BURNS took over. He was hilarious. He had a business card which read

Joe Burns,

Pianist, Teacher, Arranger

- “A fucking good pianist pissed or sober” (Evening Standard)”

I would like to move on to BEN WEBSTER and I have a guilty secret to reveal - I had never been a fan of Ben or Duke Ellington. This was largely because I was (a) an idiot and (b) a tool of be-bop orthodoxy.

Once I had met Ben I became a new man and he was my friend. When he was in London we would meet after my office hours on a Friday for a drink.

One time we were in a pub and Ben had gone to the Gents. While he was out of the room, a man with tattoos and lank blonde hair started beating up his girl friend. The rest of us were embarrassed but before our cowardice was put to the test Ben reappeared. He told Blondie to stop it. In reply, Ben was told to mind his own business and the N word was used. Ben was a large man both height- and weight-wise

but he nimbly leapt across the room and seized this man by the soft flesh on the inside of his thigh in what I could see was a vice-like grip. Ben led him oohing and yelping out of the door. When he returned, we all applauded.

I have many more Ben Webster stories for the future. If requested.

[Yes please, Wally! We’ll hold you to that- Editor]