When rehearsing a 'three day play' in TC3 (1964?) I was having increasing difficulty tracking Julian Tolkien, (no small gentleman!) due to a soft tyre on the offside front of his Mole boom. Eventually I found time to ring Mechanical Maintenance and Norman duly arrived with the nitrogen cylinder that was used to gas Vinten camera peds. He quickly re-inflated the tyre and as I was holding the studio 'air lock' doors open for his departure I asked how he judged the correct pressure. He explained that you just looked vertically down over the wheel and 'pumped' until there was no bulge at the bottom. At that instant, (need I go on?)..............there was an enormous BANG and Julian was listing very much further to starboard than previously.

John Howell.





  Another Stewart Morris Story. Stewart said of another visiting cameraman on the Rolf Harris show " I didn't know the BBC employed paraplegic cameramen" . Name withheld to protect the guilty.

Doug Puddifoot





  The Story of "Oi!"

In the days when camera cables were as thick as a man's arm and it took two strong men to drag a cable-eight out of tech stores: two such cameramen were dragging such a eight out of stores, one morning, when a teddy truck ran straight over it - bumpity, bump. The two men stopped abruptly, the unexpected weight of the teddy truck coming as a shock to their spines. The Senior Cameraman, Paul Kay, observed this and called out, quite reasonably, "Oi!"
He didn't get a chance to say anything else.
The teddy truck stopped suddenly. The Driver dismounted. There was something about his beetroot coloured complexion, trembling jowls and savage snarl that suggested he was not in a good mood. He launched into a passionate diatribe: "Who are you calling "Oi!"? My name's not Oi! I've got a name, I have. I'm a human being, I am. Not just an Oi!" and similar sentiments, at great length, great volume and considerable venom. The Crew retreated before his onslaught. Paul Kay made consolatory gestures. The rest of us looked for somewhere to hide.
Eventually, our angry Driver ran out of breath and bile. A deathly silence descended across the studio floor. It was a tense and terrible silence that only a very brave man, or someone who didn't understand the situation, would have dared to break. It was broken by the Driver's mate. Having been out in the ring-road, he had missed all this. He now appeared in the dock doors and gave us a momentarily puzzled look, before calling out, "Oi! Are you coming?"
A dispirited and crestfallen Driver slunk back to his teddy truck. Recognising the sensitivity of the situation, the crew tried to restrain their laughter. We failed!

Roger Bunce





  When The Crazy World of Arthur Brown came in to TOTP to play “Fire”, it was done as a post recording, because Arthur wore a real fire crown. Someone had decided also that the studio would have smoke in the air (very unusual then), so they got a special effects fellow called Bertram in, who had probably been at Lime Grove in the Gaumont- Kalee days. He brought a large machine on fat wheels which was, in fact, labelled Gaumont-Kalee. It had a delivery tube a foot in diameter. Bertram tended this machine all day, to the amusement of the floor manager, who kept asking if he’d be ready. When the kids had all been chucked out, the moment came - the floor manager shouted “Now, Bertram” - and the tube belched an enormous amount of smoke, so much so that the Heron driver, me, couldn’t see the ground to see his marks, and neither could anyone else. Arthur’s crown was extinguished, and we all waited 20 minutes till we could see again. The clip that is still shown is take two, with much less smoke and a chastised Bertram.

Bernie



  Still on TOTP - one day during the live show, the Heron I was tracking, with Al Kerridge on the front, ground to a halt with 28 bars to get to the other end of the studio. I leapt off, and the crowd pushers helped me get the machine down the studio in time. Then we realised that the cable guard had jammed into the floor and taken a long gouge out of the lino. It stayed there for several weeks, and had a lead part in The Man in the Iron Mask, a Sunday afternoon serial. Eventually they re-laid the flooring, but not very well, and it bulged around the edges, making for some bumpy tracks. One night after the kids had gone, The Stones came in to play Jumping Jack Flash. During the recording the crew’s top Heron driver (me again!) spun the machine round, and completely ripped out the squares of badly laid lino. After that they had to take the studio out of service to do the job properly.

Bernie

PS Have you heard the one about Jim the crowd pusher? Actually, better not...