Our hero skips onward from a skiffle group to cricket to race horses.
Greetings! It’s me again—dauntless Davy Jones—taking up where I left off last month in the exciting (and seemingly unending) story of my life in pix. So heigh ho—let’s get on with it! Here we are—back at school again. Still at Varna Street School in Manchester. I was 12 when this picture was taken and I am at the far left in the bottom row. On the far upper right is one of my best friends back home—Eric Kay. He now works for the British Railway, as my dad used to. Also at 12 (that’s me with the banjo on the left) I attended the Congregational School. I had a skiffle group (so we called ourselves the Congo Boys—get it?). When this was taken, we were playing at a party after Whitsun Walk. Our most requested number was Does Your Chewing Gum Lose Its Flavor on the Bedpost Overnight? At 13, this is how I got all dressed up for my elder sister Hazel’s wedding. I hated short pants and this was the last time I wore them. How do you like my nifty corsage? Well, I did wear short pants when we played cricket. Here I am, front and center (and captain of the team, I might add), with the Higher Openshaw Secondary Modern team. Ah, here we are! Another typical school picture of dashing Davy Jones. (At least, I don’t have chocolate smeared all over my face in this one.) I was 14 years old when this was taken. At 15, I began hanging out at the Newmarket racing stable, which was 50 miles from London. This horse’s name was “Orlater” (like in “Sooner—“?). Here I am again at Newmarket. In this picture, I was learning how to ride. After this, I became an apprentice jockey.
But fate was about to change all that, and little did I know that right there at the racing stable one day I would meet the man who would start me on my acting career. More about that in the next issue. See you then.
The May issue of 16 Magazine goes on sale at your newsstand March 21st. Reserve your copy now.
And now—turn the page and
find out how you can spend a whole day with me!