Extraordinary lives
MY FATHER ALF
DAD was born in the East End of London to a poor but loving Jewish family. His parents emigrated from Russia in 1911 and his father worked as a clothes-presser in a garment factory. There were ten children and they slept four to a bed, but Dad said there was always laughter at home. His closest childhood friend was Ronnie Scott, and even as kids they were passionate about jazz. Dad left school at 15 and followed his father into the clothing industry. But in 1943 he joined the Army and was sent to India, where he started an entertainment troupe which travelled around the country by bus, putting on variety shows for the Armed Forces. Also stationed in India was Jimmy Perry, who joined Dad’s group, and the pair of them liked to out-do each other with their comedy sketches. Jimmy later became the successful writer of TV sitcoms including It Ain’t Half Hot, Mum, based on the adventures of their wartime troupe in India. He based the character of Bombardier Solomons on my father. In 1949, Dad and Ronnie Scott opened one of London’s first jazz clubs, in Old Compton Street, Soho. They called it the Metropolitan
‘Bopera’ House, entry fee five shillings. Johnny Dankworth played the sax there in Ronnie’s jazz quartet. It was fairly shortlived, and afterwards Dad settled down to his day-job in the ‘schmutter trade’. Ronnie started his famous club a few years later. My parents met at the Linguists’ Club in London — Dad was learning Spanish and my mum, Sally, just came along to socialise. Her background was very different: her father owned a men’s clothing store and they lived in the middle-class suburb of Golders Green. They married in 1953 and had three daughters — me and my sisters, Sue and Debbie. In 1960 we moved to a house in Finchley. Dad lived there till the end of his life. He stayed in touch with Jimmy Perry, who wrote about my father in his book, A Stupid Boy: The Autobiography Of The Creator Of Dad’s Army. Dad loved to play the drums. He never owned a drum kit, but kept his old drumsticks from India and would pile up phone directories and drum on them instead. On his 90th birthday we borrowed a proper kit for him and watched as he drummed away happily. But Dad’s biggest love was his family — his wife of 66 years, daughters and two grandchildren. He truly was extraordinary to us. We played his favourite songs by Billie Holiday and Ella Fitzgerald at his cremation service and it had us all in tears.
ALFRED SUMMERS, born January 1, 1926; died august 2, 2020, aged 94.