When John was 3, I took him to see the Al Jolson movie. He sat up in the seat singing away with Al Jolson. I tried to shush him up, the man at the back said: “Let him sing, Mrs. he sings better than Al Jolson.”
The same weekend we went to the club, John did his usual standing on the table singing. We left about 11 p.m., waiting by the bus stop, John let go of my hand and ran off round the corner, just as I was tearing off after him, he appeared dragging a black man (in those days you didn’t see many coloured people). John was shouting to me, “Mum, Mum I have found Al Jolson” I apologized to the gentleman who was dressed in a business suit, the man did not mind at all.
A few weeks later in the club, John was standing on the table singing Mammy, he fell off the table, cut his head open. We took him to hospital they put a stitch in, and he pleaded to go back to the club. We took him back to the club, he climbed back up on the same table singing Mammy.