Chapter 10 (1957 – 1960) – (Pgs 95 – 103) - No’ Awa’ Tae Bide Awa’
“Take it a bit easier,” his doctor kept on telling him.
He had meant to follow that advice, but in the long run he hadn’t.
The beginning of March, 1957. Jimmy, evening dress under his overcoat sat in a chair at home, all dressed up and ready to go.
Only, his doctor was more or less barring his way ; was in actual fact standing right over hum, shaking his head at protestations of “I’ll be a’ richt.”
“I’ll do a deal with you, Jimmy. Temperature below 100 off you go. Over 100 off you go – to bed!”
Bronchitis, threatening pneumonia……It was three weeks before he was up again.
Though as soon as he could get about again he was right back to the long hauls with the band, yet this was only to honour very long-standing commitments, and he was in fact refusing any further work.
This got to the ears of the Press.
“Retiring? Jimmy’s far to young,” proclaimed the Daily Mail, quoting Anne “Jimmy retiring? Goodness me, no! But he is gie’n up his playing for an indefinite period on medical advice.”
By the end of April the Dundee Courier let its readers into “the best-kept secret of the year……packing up at the peak of his career –“
His last public appearance is tonight when he plays at the semi-annual ball of Manchester Caledonian Society.
Jimmy’s announcement puts an end to weeks of speculation. He told me “I’ve heard that I’m supposed tae be dyin’, that I’m gaein’ intae hospital an’ that I’m retirin’ for good. I’m even suppose tae have collapsed behind the scenes when we played at the Palace Theatre recently.
“The truth is I’ve been workin’ too hard. I may be back ; I dinna ken.”
But the BBC have been in on the secret since the beginning. Jimmy and his world-famous band have been pre-recording broadcasts at Dundee’s Coldside studio so that his regular broadcasts can be tapered off. “What’s going to happen to the band, Jimmy?”
“I want them tae carry on without me ; they can use my bus if they like. I’ll supply letters o’ introduction tae organizers.
“A’body will say I should be awa’ on a cruise an’ a’ that nonsense, but I’ll enjoy myself just as much potterin’ aboot. It’ll be fine no’ haein’ tae hurry anywhere. It’ll be a great relief tae ken I’m free.”
“Jimmy Shand’s Last Dance” mourned the Daily Record ; “Scotland’s number one ambassador of music has quit.” (On the eve of his retirement he received many messages ; protests, condolences ; and one message over the radio which touched him most of all – “We have elected you and your band Musicians of the Year,” from the staff of the Australian Station – Mawson in the Antarctic!)
The People’s Journal not only announced “Jimmy Shand Gives Up” but also “And so do two of his band” and went on –
What of the band that has served him faithfully through the years?
It has experienced shows without Punch before. The Shand Band went on its merry music-making way while the maestro was in hospital for his stomach operation.
It was the same when Jimmy toured America and Canada. The knights of King Jimmy absorbed so much of his rhythm that sometimes the dancers scarcely missed the king himself.
But this time the outlook is not so bright. For the Jimmy Sand Band is not only losing Jimmy Shand. It is in fact being split in half.
When the boss announced his decision, Sid Chalmers, violinist and one of the band’s most skilled musicians, decided that he, too, would retire for the present.
So did accordionist George McKelvey.
July brought further news which was to some of his fans even more of a shock – he was quitting Dundee for good! The Sutherland Street semi was already advertised for sale. The Shands were moving to a substantial villa on a hill a mile from Auchtermuchty in Fife.
“We’ll be sorry tae leave,” Anne told a reporter, “We’ve made a lot of friends ; on the other hand it will be a lot easier for oor friends in Leven and Buckhaven tae visit us.”
And Jimmy admitted that he’s always wanted to live in the country “and we’ll be very pleased tae get back tae the quiet life.”
He was described as being very bronzed and fit-looking.
The only times he had played since his last official appearance on April 26th was for the children at Baldovan Institution, and with the band at the wedding of Ronald, son of Norrie Whitelaw the pianist.
There had been many requests for him to make a comeback, not the least the impassioned pleas from London agencies. “But I’m still under medical supervision ; and I could never gae back intae the game as deep as before. If I’m ever tae gae back it’ll hae tae be on a casual basis.
“The new hoose? A braw situation ; ye can see for twenty miles tae the sooth. A healthy place – ‘Muchty’s aye been celebrated for its air.”
This last feature had weighed considerably in the new home’s favour. David had been showing disturbing signs of increasing chestiness and the move might well be to his advantage.
Jimmy had had a casual relationship with Braidleys, as the house was called, many years before.
“Little did I think,” he told me, when I used tae come ower here for Forbes in the ‘thirties that this place would ever be my ain.
“I sellt an accordion tae Chae Nicoll, a farm worker bidin’ in ane o’ the cottages attached tae the hoose.”
On the date that it was announced that he was flitting to Fife he flew from Prestwick to Germany, and this proved to be an encouraging sign that he might very well make a comeback. He was going at the invitation of the Hohner company at Trossingen to be a guest at their centenary celebrations of the world-famous accordion makers ; and they were to have a new accordion ready for him.
He appeared on TV while in Germany, so ‘maybe’ the Daily Herald commented ‘he hasn’t hung up his accordion for good after all.’
In September several papers carried pictures of his digging on what was more or less an estate. Braidleys consisted of a villa, three cottages, and two semi-detached bungalows, set in two acres of mostly wilderness.
Andy Gow, who had driven the Bonnie Dundee wee broon bus more than 150,000 miles lent a hand clearing land and laying paths. He had also moved to Auchtermuchty to one of Jimmy cottages.
In October a more familiar Jimmy was seen in news pictures, complete with new box.
On Monday the 21st Peter Brough stepped onto the stage of the Edinburgh Empire at 7.30pm and announced to a packed house – “It is my great privilege and pleasure to present the one and only Jimmy Shand” and the audience swamped the band’s signature tune Bonnie Dundee.
A new box, a re-constituted band, but still the old magic.
At twenty-to-nine when the second house should have been in they were still playing.
Having conquered the Edinburgh Empire that week they went on to conquer the Glasgow Empire the following week, travelling back to their homes every night as always, for as Jimmy said “There’s nothing like getting’ back tae ye rain bed.”
How was living at Auchtermuchty working out?
“The main reason for moving there was David’s health. The fresh clean air has done him the world o’ guid. The bad cough he had in Dundee has gone, and he’s as happy a lauddie as ye could meet. And Auchtermuchty is central tae many areas o’ Scotland ; and that’s handy for a traivellin’ musician.”
Well, he was back with a bang, but also with a determination no to overdo things in the future. Hmmmmm…..Here’s how Jim Ritchie the fiddler remembers those years –
In 1956 Jim Ritchie was in his fifth year playing with Bobby MacLeod. The band was touring with Robert Wilson’s White Heather Group ; their contract with the group was nearing its end.
“How about staying with the group as soloist” Robert asked him.
Ritchie had in fact already decided to rest for a while ; had in fact given Bobby MacLeod a month’s notice ; but this was a tempting offer.
They had been appearing in London, where they now met the Shand Band, down to make records.
“An’ are ye gaein’ wi’ Robert?” asked Jimmy.
“Haven’t really decided. Felt like layin’ aff fur a while ; been pretty busy these past few years”.
“Aye..Well..pity ; I could’ve done wi’ ye…..”
“And for the next five years I was to be busier than I had ever been before. As a matter of fact the first job wi’ Shand was wi’ Robert Wilson in his White Heather Club TV Show. We appeared on it every twa or three weeks, oh, for years.
“There were plenty ither jobs in between, by heavens there were! “Talk about farm-workers days aince bein’ fae dawn tae dusk – my hours were not likelier tae be dawn tae dawn awa’ fae the ferm.
“For ins’nce, I’d hae tae be awa’ fae Wester Bleaton in Glenshee by 6 a.m. tae meet the band bus at Perth at seven, tae get tae the BBC at Glasgow by half-past nine. We’d rehearse a’ day for the show gaein oot at around half-past six that nicht. Ah but we were only startin’ ! We’d be awa’ then tae play at a dance, maybe Lanark, until aboot twa in the mornin’. It’d be six or seven a.m. when I got back tae the glen. Except of course if we’d been playin’ doon sooth, then it weel micht be eleven next forenoon before I’d see the farm again. I’ve seen me getting hame fae, say, London ; gaein’ tae bed at midday, tae be up and awa’ again three oors later.
“Oh, aye, since the band was in great demand a’ place there were local jobs now an’ then…………Kirkmichael Boolin’ Club. They wanted us for their annual dance, but it would hae tae be on a Friday tae ensure a guid turnout. Well, Jimmy couldna’ gie them a Friday an’ my, ye’ve nae idea how dubious the Committee was aboot advisability o’ bookin’ any other nicht!
“Speak aboot a prophet haein’ nae honour in his ain country! Whit a job I had persuadin’ them they could hardly lose wi’ Shand’s Band on whatever nicht. Finally they kind o’ reluctantly agreed tae a Tuesday nicht – then nae sooner wis this settled than we learned that another organisation had booked anither band for their dance on the Friday!
“Of course, the Boolin’ Committee need never have worried – a sell-oot ; they were turnin’ fowk awa’, had tae shut the doors.
“A somewhat different local jobbie was the Gillies Ball at Balmoral. They got a fell guid crowd there an’ a’, incidentally.
“A right swell affair. The band were up on a balcony at one end o’ the ballroom ; at the ither end anither balcony where the Royal party would appear.
“Did they dance? Aye. The Queen Mother requested the Dashing White Sergeant and went through it gracefully wi’ her twa dochters. The same thing happened at Windsor Castle later on”.
Jimmy Ritchie will always remember a particular one of the many sessions of record-making he had with Jimmy Shand. In 1958 Parlophone wanted their services but the band had too many commitments to be able to get to London at a suitable time. So, Parlophone came to them – at Leeds where they were to play at a University dance. The recordings were actually made during the dance, which might suggest a better-than-no-recordings-at-all result at best.
Yet this produced a best seller. And in 1976 O’er the Border is still selling. (The first of his L.P’s giving the correct number of bars for each dance was an innovation).
A pal of Jim Ritchie’s who thought he knew something about the brief commercial life of most records found this hard to believe –
“Well just you ask at any record shop”.
“I’ll take you up on that Jim. Sixteen years and still going strong? Hard to credit”.
Eventually he did go into a little shop that sold records –
“Don’t suppose you’ve heard of the record O’er the Border -?
“Yes sir; Jimmy Shand’s Band……………Here we are sir!”
Nor will Jim readily forget another event in ’58, the Royal Command Scottish Variety Performance at the Glasgow Alhambra, for the tremendous reception the band got.
Obviously, the bill was a compilation of outstanding acts, but next day at an outside broadcast they were doing from Dalbeattie, BBC Producer Iain McFadyen, who had been recording the Command Performance, told them that the instruments had registered the greatest audience applause for their turn.
By 1961 the farm-lad fiddler from Glenshee was finding it a wearingly hectic life. His car would break down in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere. In winter Glenshee was likely to become inaccessible under heavy falls of snow – on one occasion he had to lodge with the Shand’s for a week. He left the band and Sid Chalmers took his place again.
Jim free-lanced after that, which left him more time to learn the bagpipes, fish, throw the hammer, put the shot, compose – and sleep! And, of course, to listen to Jimmy Shand records.
In December, 1958, the band again had the honour of playing at Windsor Castle. The following year Jimmy was voted the Most Popular Accordionist in Great Britain in the poll of the British Accordion Federation.
And in January, 1960 got off to a good start with Anne and Jimmy’s Silver Wedding. Alan Dunsmore wrote a very fine piece about the celebration –
It’s 25 years since a music salesman from East Wemyss married Annie Anderson, a Colinsburgh waitress.
And what a time they had when they started to organize their silver wedding party.
The music salesman was Jimmy Shand, now a national celebrity and still unaware of the fact.
He thought he could get all his friends and relatives into the Queen’s Hotel, down the road from his home in Auchtermuchty.
But the hotel proprietrix told him that the reception room could take only 100.
So when the invitations went out, the venue was given as the Auchtermuchty Victoria Hall.
But 48 hours before the big day, Jimmy and his wife – with acceptances from 240 guests – decided to plan the seating.
And they found that the squeeze-box king’s party was still to be too much of a squeeze.
FORESTALLED
Jimmy drove off in haste to the neighbouring village of Strathmiglo – a small place with a fine big Public Hall.
And with the schoolmaster Mr Ian Inglis, Hall Committee Chairman, he pleaded “Can I have the Hall for Wednesday night?”
It looked as if ‘Shand’s party’ was doomed. The Strathmiglo hall was already booked.
But Jimmy Shand and his music have raised hundreds of pounds for the hall fund, for old folk, for Strathmiglo’s opening-shortly meals-on-wheels service.
So this corner of Fife put Jimmy first – his party went on in the main village hall while a public meeting took place in the annex.
Jimmy had spent the previous two days driving and phoning all over three counties to warn his guests of a change of plan.
The guests arrived in 90 cars.
The 35 lb. three-tier cake with tartan ribbon and white heather decorations was baked by Mr Alex Fraser, Coaltown of Wenyss, the baker who had provided the wedding cake of a quarter of a century back.
“ON THE HOOSE”
Nine busy waitresses rushed about the packed hall with the steak pie and boiled ham. Jimmy announced that the bar was open ; “Drink what ye like – it’s a’ on the hoose the nicht!”
The congratulatory telegrams were read. There was one from ventriloquist Peter Brough and another from his assistant ; “Lang may yer lum reek – Woodenhead Andrews.”
Dancer Bobby Watson and his wife , Mavis, wired from Aberdeen ; “You have pedaled up hill for 25 years – may you reach the 50 without changing gear.”
Andy Gow, Jimmy’s chauffeur, handed the band’s drummer, Owney McCabe, a large box which Owney carried coolie-like on his head to the top table. The box contained a silver tea and coffee service with the greetings : “From the bandie and Andy to Shandy.”
Local minister, the Rev. Thomas Lithgow, said, “It is a very big occasion in two lives when two people undertake a very solemn promise, and it is gratifying to see two people who have kept that promise and kept it so well.”
Jimmy, in brown suit and green shirt, led off with his wife in the old-fashioned waltz. She wore a silk costume in two shades of blue.
And it was dancing for most of the evening – to Ian Arnott’s music – for the man who must normally sit and play.
OLD FRIENDS
In between dances he cracked with old friends :-
Mrs Margaret McNab, from Leven, who played the piano when he made his first recording in 1934.
Dr Sandy Tulloch, from Dundee – who first met him 30 years ago as a medical student seeking accordion lessons.
Ex-Dundee policemen Big Jock Tosh, who used to play duets with Jimmy sitting on the garden wall in Sutherland Street.
Tom Elliot, former Dundee Gymnast, who, at the age of 71, still leads off the dancing in all Shand’s ‘Heather Mixture’ broadcasts.
Mrs Denham, Jimmy’s landlady in Hilltown when he first moved to Dundee.
And, of course, the best man and bridesmaid – brother John Shand, now a patternmaker in Leven, and Mrs Shand’s niece, Joan McKay, now Mrs Annan.
Jimmy smiled more on Wednesday night than he’s done for many a day. He was happy among his ain folk, listening for a change to his own kind of music.
“Next time it’ll have to be Kirkcaldy Ice Rink,” he said.
Not long afterwards he gained a Carl Alan Award, a statuette finished in gold, as the Most Outstanding Old-Time Band Leader, an honour repeated in ’61 and ’62. The award is names after Carl L. Heimann and Alan B. Fairley, joint chairman of Mecca Ltd, and the first presentation was in 1953.
It originated from a suggestion that the Dancing Industry should have an Award for outstanding achievement similar to the Oscars for the Film Industry.
The ‘On Tour’ shows the band, with other artistes, had been putting on all over the country for BBC Radio were originally broadcast live, and went on for years, as enjoyable to the party as the audiences.
Tenor Jimmy Urquhart recalled a visit to Barra, when, after the show Jimmy had a sit-in with the local band at Castle Bay at their Sunday night hop. Then they went to the headmaster’s house for a private showing of ‘Whisky Galore,’ and then to the hotel for a ceilidh - which expanded out into the bracken at 3am and on to a lonely cottage lit by paraffin lamp, where they were delightedly welcomed by a granny in a shawl by a peat fire.
It was 6am before the night’s entertainment was over.
George McKelvey remembers there used to be a tune specially composed by Jimmy for every district they visited. Fine : only on many, many an occasion the first the band heard of such a tune would be Jimmy diddling it to them as he made it up while they sped towards the place it was to be dedicated to!
Another accordionist joined the band, Bert Shorthouse. On April 2nd 1961 he and McKelvey went off to tour Australia and New Zealand with Jimmy and Kenneth McKellar, comedian Alec Finlay, Soprano Lucille Graham, dancer Bobby Watson, accompanist Denis Woolford.
He had meant to follow that advice, but in the long run he hadn’t.
The beginning of March, 1957. Jimmy, evening dress under his overcoat sat in a chair at home, all dressed up and ready to go.
Only, his doctor was more or less barring his way ; was in actual fact standing right over hum, shaking his head at protestations of “I’ll be a’ richt.”
“I’ll do a deal with you, Jimmy. Temperature below 100 off you go. Over 100 off you go – to bed!”
Bronchitis, threatening pneumonia……It was three weeks before he was up again.
Though as soon as he could get about again he was right back to the long hauls with the band, yet this was only to honour very long-standing commitments, and he was in fact refusing any further work.
This got to the ears of the Press.
“Retiring? Jimmy’s far to young,” proclaimed the Daily Mail, quoting Anne “Jimmy retiring? Goodness me, no! But he is gie’n up his playing for an indefinite period on medical advice.”
By the end of April the Dundee Courier let its readers into “the best-kept secret of the year……packing up at the peak of his career –“
His last public appearance is tonight when he plays at the semi-annual ball of Manchester Caledonian Society.
Jimmy’s announcement puts an end to weeks of speculation. He told me “I’ve heard that I’m supposed tae be dyin’, that I’m gaein’ intae hospital an’ that I’m retirin’ for good. I’m even suppose tae have collapsed behind the scenes when we played at the Palace Theatre recently.
“The truth is I’ve been workin’ too hard. I may be back ; I dinna ken.”
But the BBC have been in on the secret since the beginning. Jimmy and his world-famous band have been pre-recording broadcasts at Dundee’s Coldside studio so that his regular broadcasts can be tapered off. “What’s going to happen to the band, Jimmy?”
“I want them tae carry on without me ; they can use my bus if they like. I’ll supply letters o’ introduction tae organizers.
“A’body will say I should be awa’ on a cruise an’ a’ that nonsense, but I’ll enjoy myself just as much potterin’ aboot. It’ll be fine no’ haein’ tae hurry anywhere. It’ll be a great relief tae ken I’m free.”
“Jimmy Shand’s Last Dance” mourned the Daily Record ; “Scotland’s number one ambassador of music has quit.” (On the eve of his retirement he received many messages ; protests, condolences ; and one message over the radio which touched him most of all – “We have elected you and your band Musicians of the Year,” from the staff of the Australian Station – Mawson in the Antarctic!)
The People’s Journal not only announced “Jimmy Shand Gives Up” but also “And so do two of his band” and went on –
What of the band that has served him faithfully through the years?
It has experienced shows without Punch before. The Shand Band went on its merry music-making way while the maestro was in hospital for his stomach operation.
It was the same when Jimmy toured America and Canada. The knights of King Jimmy absorbed so much of his rhythm that sometimes the dancers scarcely missed the king himself.
But this time the outlook is not so bright. For the Jimmy Sand Band is not only losing Jimmy Shand. It is in fact being split in half.
When the boss announced his decision, Sid Chalmers, violinist and one of the band’s most skilled musicians, decided that he, too, would retire for the present.
So did accordionist George McKelvey.
July brought further news which was to some of his fans even more of a shock – he was quitting Dundee for good! The Sutherland Street semi was already advertised for sale. The Shands were moving to a substantial villa on a hill a mile from Auchtermuchty in Fife.
“We’ll be sorry tae leave,” Anne told a reporter, “We’ve made a lot of friends ; on the other hand it will be a lot easier for oor friends in Leven and Buckhaven tae visit us.”
And Jimmy admitted that he’s always wanted to live in the country “and we’ll be very pleased tae get back tae the quiet life.”
He was described as being very bronzed and fit-looking.
The only times he had played since his last official appearance on April 26th was for the children at Baldovan Institution, and with the band at the wedding of Ronald, son of Norrie Whitelaw the pianist.
There had been many requests for him to make a comeback, not the least the impassioned pleas from London agencies. “But I’m still under medical supervision ; and I could never gae back intae the game as deep as before. If I’m ever tae gae back it’ll hae tae be on a casual basis.
“The new hoose? A braw situation ; ye can see for twenty miles tae the sooth. A healthy place – ‘Muchty’s aye been celebrated for its air.”
This last feature had weighed considerably in the new home’s favour. David had been showing disturbing signs of increasing chestiness and the move might well be to his advantage.
Jimmy had had a casual relationship with Braidleys, as the house was called, many years before.
“Little did I think,” he told me, when I used tae come ower here for Forbes in the ‘thirties that this place would ever be my ain.
“I sellt an accordion tae Chae Nicoll, a farm worker bidin’ in ane o’ the cottages attached tae the hoose.”
On the date that it was announced that he was flitting to Fife he flew from Prestwick to Germany, and this proved to be an encouraging sign that he might very well make a comeback. He was going at the invitation of the Hohner company at Trossingen to be a guest at their centenary celebrations of the world-famous accordion makers ; and they were to have a new accordion ready for him.
He appeared on TV while in Germany, so ‘maybe’ the Daily Herald commented ‘he hasn’t hung up his accordion for good after all.’
In September several papers carried pictures of his digging on what was more or less an estate. Braidleys consisted of a villa, three cottages, and two semi-detached bungalows, set in two acres of mostly wilderness.
Andy Gow, who had driven the Bonnie Dundee wee broon bus more than 150,000 miles lent a hand clearing land and laying paths. He had also moved to Auchtermuchty to one of Jimmy cottages.
In October a more familiar Jimmy was seen in news pictures, complete with new box.
On Monday the 21st Peter Brough stepped onto the stage of the Edinburgh Empire at 7.30pm and announced to a packed house – “It is my great privilege and pleasure to present the one and only Jimmy Shand” and the audience swamped the band’s signature tune Bonnie Dundee.
A new box, a re-constituted band, but still the old magic.
At twenty-to-nine when the second house should have been in they were still playing.
Having conquered the Edinburgh Empire that week they went on to conquer the Glasgow Empire the following week, travelling back to their homes every night as always, for as Jimmy said “There’s nothing like getting’ back tae ye rain bed.”
How was living at Auchtermuchty working out?
“The main reason for moving there was David’s health. The fresh clean air has done him the world o’ guid. The bad cough he had in Dundee has gone, and he’s as happy a lauddie as ye could meet. And Auchtermuchty is central tae many areas o’ Scotland ; and that’s handy for a traivellin’ musician.”
Well, he was back with a bang, but also with a determination no to overdo things in the future. Hmmmmm…..Here’s how Jim Ritchie the fiddler remembers those years –
In 1956 Jim Ritchie was in his fifth year playing with Bobby MacLeod. The band was touring with Robert Wilson’s White Heather Group ; their contract with the group was nearing its end.
“How about staying with the group as soloist” Robert asked him.
Ritchie had in fact already decided to rest for a while ; had in fact given Bobby MacLeod a month’s notice ; but this was a tempting offer.
They had been appearing in London, where they now met the Shand Band, down to make records.
“An’ are ye gaein’ wi’ Robert?” asked Jimmy.
“Haven’t really decided. Felt like layin’ aff fur a while ; been pretty busy these past few years”.
“Aye..Well..pity ; I could’ve done wi’ ye…..”
“And for the next five years I was to be busier than I had ever been before. As a matter of fact the first job wi’ Shand was wi’ Robert Wilson in his White Heather Club TV Show. We appeared on it every twa or three weeks, oh, for years.
“There were plenty ither jobs in between, by heavens there were! “Talk about farm-workers days aince bein’ fae dawn tae dusk – my hours were not likelier tae be dawn tae dawn awa’ fae the ferm.
“For ins’nce, I’d hae tae be awa’ fae Wester Bleaton in Glenshee by 6 a.m. tae meet the band bus at Perth at seven, tae get tae the BBC at Glasgow by half-past nine. We’d rehearse a’ day for the show gaein oot at around half-past six that nicht. Ah but we were only startin’ ! We’d be awa’ then tae play at a dance, maybe Lanark, until aboot twa in the mornin’. It’d be six or seven a.m. when I got back tae the glen. Except of course if we’d been playin’ doon sooth, then it weel micht be eleven next forenoon before I’d see the farm again. I’ve seen me getting hame fae, say, London ; gaein’ tae bed at midday, tae be up and awa’ again three oors later.
“Oh, aye, since the band was in great demand a’ place there were local jobs now an’ then…………Kirkmichael Boolin’ Club. They wanted us for their annual dance, but it would hae tae be on a Friday tae ensure a guid turnout. Well, Jimmy couldna’ gie them a Friday an’ my, ye’ve nae idea how dubious the Committee was aboot advisability o’ bookin’ any other nicht!
“Speak aboot a prophet haein’ nae honour in his ain country! Whit a job I had persuadin’ them they could hardly lose wi’ Shand’s Band on whatever nicht. Finally they kind o’ reluctantly agreed tae a Tuesday nicht – then nae sooner wis this settled than we learned that another organisation had booked anither band for their dance on the Friday!
“Of course, the Boolin’ Committee need never have worried – a sell-oot ; they were turnin’ fowk awa’, had tae shut the doors.
“A somewhat different local jobbie was the Gillies Ball at Balmoral. They got a fell guid crowd there an’ a’, incidentally.
“A right swell affair. The band were up on a balcony at one end o’ the ballroom ; at the ither end anither balcony where the Royal party would appear.
“Did they dance? Aye. The Queen Mother requested the Dashing White Sergeant and went through it gracefully wi’ her twa dochters. The same thing happened at Windsor Castle later on”.
Jimmy Ritchie will always remember a particular one of the many sessions of record-making he had with Jimmy Shand. In 1958 Parlophone wanted their services but the band had too many commitments to be able to get to London at a suitable time. So, Parlophone came to them – at Leeds where they were to play at a University dance. The recordings were actually made during the dance, which might suggest a better-than-no-recordings-at-all result at best.
Yet this produced a best seller. And in 1976 O’er the Border is still selling. (The first of his L.P’s giving the correct number of bars for each dance was an innovation).
A pal of Jim Ritchie’s who thought he knew something about the brief commercial life of most records found this hard to believe –
“Well just you ask at any record shop”.
“I’ll take you up on that Jim. Sixteen years and still going strong? Hard to credit”.
Eventually he did go into a little shop that sold records –
“Don’t suppose you’ve heard of the record O’er the Border -?
“Yes sir; Jimmy Shand’s Band……………Here we are sir!”
Nor will Jim readily forget another event in ’58, the Royal Command Scottish Variety Performance at the Glasgow Alhambra, for the tremendous reception the band got.
Obviously, the bill was a compilation of outstanding acts, but next day at an outside broadcast they were doing from Dalbeattie, BBC Producer Iain McFadyen, who had been recording the Command Performance, told them that the instruments had registered the greatest audience applause for their turn.
By 1961 the farm-lad fiddler from Glenshee was finding it a wearingly hectic life. His car would break down in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere. In winter Glenshee was likely to become inaccessible under heavy falls of snow – on one occasion he had to lodge with the Shand’s for a week. He left the band and Sid Chalmers took his place again.
Jim free-lanced after that, which left him more time to learn the bagpipes, fish, throw the hammer, put the shot, compose – and sleep! And, of course, to listen to Jimmy Shand records.
In December, 1958, the band again had the honour of playing at Windsor Castle. The following year Jimmy was voted the Most Popular Accordionist in Great Britain in the poll of the British Accordion Federation.
And in January, 1960 got off to a good start with Anne and Jimmy’s Silver Wedding. Alan Dunsmore wrote a very fine piece about the celebration –
It’s 25 years since a music salesman from East Wemyss married Annie Anderson, a Colinsburgh waitress.
And what a time they had when they started to organize their silver wedding party.
The music salesman was Jimmy Shand, now a national celebrity and still unaware of the fact.
He thought he could get all his friends and relatives into the Queen’s Hotel, down the road from his home in Auchtermuchty.
But the hotel proprietrix told him that the reception room could take only 100.
So when the invitations went out, the venue was given as the Auchtermuchty Victoria Hall.
But 48 hours before the big day, Jimmy and his wife – with acceptances from 240 guests – decided to plan the seating.
And they found that the squeeze-box king’s party was still to be too much of a squeeze.
FORESTALLED
Jimmy drove off in haste to the neighbouring village of Strathmiglo – a small place with a fine big Public Hall.
And with the schoolmaster Mr Ian Inglis, Hall Committee Chairman, he pleaded “Can I have the Hall for Wednesday night?”
It looked as if ‘Shand’s party’ was doomed. The Strathmiglo hall was already booked.
But Jimmy Shand and his music have raised hundreds of pounds for the hall fund, for old folk, for Strathmiglo’s opening-shortly meals-on-wheels service.
So this corner of Fife put Jimmy first – his party went on in the main village hall while a public meeting took place in the annex.
Jimmy had spent the previous two days driving and phoning all over three counties to warn his guests of a change of plan.
The guests arrived in 90 cars.
The 35 lb. three-tier cake with tartan ribbon and white heather decorations was baked by Mr Alex Fraser, Coaltown of Wenyss, the baker who had provided the wedding cake of a quarter of a century back.
“ON THE HOOSE”
Nine busy waitresses rushed about the packed hall with the steak pie and boiled ham. Jimmy announced that the bar was open ; “Drink what ye like – it’s a’ on the hoose the nicht!”
The congratulatory telegrams were read. There was one from ventriloquist Peter Brough and another from his assistant ; “Lang may yer lum reek – Woodenhead Andrews.”
Dancer Bobby Watson and his wife , Mavis, wired from Aberdeen ; “You have pedaled up hill for 25 years – may you reach the 50 without changing gear.”
Andy Gow, Jimmy’s chauffeur, handed the band’s drummer, Owney McCabe, a large box which Owney carried coolie-like on his head to the top table. The box contained a silver tea and coffee service with the greetings : “From the bandie and Andy to Shandy.”
Local minister, the Rev. Thomas Lithgow, said, “It is a very big occasion in two lives when two people undertake a very solemn promise, and it is gratifying to see two people who have kept that promise and kept it so well.”
Jimmy, in brown suit and green shirt, led off with his wife in the old-fashioned waltz. She wore a silk costume in two shades of blue.
And it was dancing for most of the evening – to Ian Arnott’s music – for the man who must normally sit and play.
OLD FRIENDS
In between dances he cracked with old friends :-
Mrs Margaret McNab, from Leven, who played the piano when he made his first recording in 1934.
Dr Sandy Tulloch, from Dundee – who first met him 30 years ago as a medical student seeking accordion lessons.
Ex-Dundee policemen Big Jock Tosh, who used to play duets with Jimmy sitting on the garden wall in Sutherland Street.
Tom Elliot, former Dundee Gymnast, who, at the age of 71, still leads off the dancing in all Shand’s ‘Heather Mixture’ broadcasts.
Mrs Denham, Jimmy’s landlady in Hilltown when he first moved to Dundee.
And, of course, the best man and bridesmaid – brother John Shand, now a patternmaker in Leven, and Mrs Shand’s niece, Joan McKay, now Mrs Annan.
Jimmy smiled more on Wednesday night than he’s done for many a day. He was happy among his ain folk, listening for a change to his own kind of music.
“Next time it’ll have to be Kirkcaldy Ice Rink,” he said.
Not long afterwards he gained a Carl Alan Award, a statuette finished in gold, as the Most Outstanding Old-Time Band Leader, an honour repeated in ’61 and ’62. The award is names after Carl L. Heimann and Alan B. Fairley, joint chairman of Mecca Ltd, and the first presentation was in 1953.
It originated from a suggestion that the Dancing Industry should have an Award for outstanding achievement similar to the Oscars for the Film Industry.
The ‘On Tour’ shows the band, with other artistes, had been putting on all over the country for BBC Radio were originally broadcast live, and went on for years, as enjoyable to the party as the audiences.
Tenor Jimmy Urquhart recalled a visit to Barra, when, after the show Jimmy had a sit-in with the local band at Castle Bay at their Sunday night hop. Then they went to the headmaster’s house for a private showing of ‘Whisky Galore,’ and then to the hotel for a ceilidh - which expanded out into the bracken at 3am and on to a lonely cottage lit by paraffin lamp, where they were delightedly welcomed by a granny in a shawl by a peat fire.
It was 6am before the night’s entertainment was over.
George McKelvey remembers there used to be a tune specially composed by Jimmy for every district they visited. Fine : only on many, many an occasion the first the band heard of such a tune would be Jimmy diddling it to them as he made it up while they sped towards the place it was to be dedicated to!
Another accordionist joined the band, Bert Shorthouse. On April 2nd 1961 he and McKelvey went off to tour Australia and New Zealand with Jimmy and Kenneth McKellar, comedian Alec Finlay, Soprano Lucille Graham, dancer Bobby Watson, accompanist Denis Woolford.