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Northerners ! Here are the final batch of photos from the Great Wallasey Wallow This is the Leasowe Castle Hotel where many of the party-animals stopped over. The view is across Liverpool Bay and the Mersey Estuary - Liverpool can be just seen across the water. Photos from Pat & Barrie Braidford This is the moment I met my sister after nearly eighteen years - thanks to you all again who connived and schemed to make this possible. Photos from Fi Gayther The Party I have not "named names" on the image files - sadly my blonde assistant is no longer in the UK. All the names are on the previous posting Heather made a week or two back. Credits for the above photos go to Glenda and Moo Moo Fenwick, Ian & Lorriane Forbes, Jacqui Milward, Graham and Debs Nelson. Thanks again to everyone on behalf of The Great North Road. Now for the next Bash - Gary - where are you ! Arthur Steevens — Click here to contact me Romiley Stockport Cheshire UK Saturday, May 25, 2002 at 15:41:13 (PDT)

Alix, Charlie Charles - if you used the bison a little more when you were younger you would easily recognise the smell of blue soap. You cannot wash your hands in a buffalo. Thank you both for the information anyway - I saw on TV the International Wildlife Expo in Pretoria and the sale of the animals, mostly to game reserves. Glad to hear at least something is being done to keep these animals a step away from extinction. Diane, Chris, Guy - My pleasure Gill - welcome back ! - as your kitty will be having his whatsits removed, how about calling it after Elias. Arthur I have posted below another article from the Rhokana Reviews currently being scanned by myself. Some of these articles are maybe a little controversial these days, but I have decided to continue as they show how things and attitudes were from times long gone by. There are many articles on all aspects of life from these days and I will continue to post them over time. Hope you all find them interesting. ON THE TRACKS of big game By Steve Herman Who blames his hunting urge upon the life he led as a boy on a lonely farm in Southern Rhodesia. He now lives at 156 Kantanta Street Kitwe A man, a gun, a star - how simple and clean is the hunter's world away from the perplexities of modern life. Whoever has been touched by the magic of the hunt, with its long treks through the bush by day and the peace of a crackling camp-fire at night will enjoy reading this article. The writer believes, and there are many who will agree with him, that there is nothing cruel about hunting if you use the right weapon and stalk close to your prey. One of the deepest pleasures in life for me is to study the habits of wild animals and birds. But I also delight in shooting game. Do not misunderstand me. I'm no biltong hunter or bulala-lamp destroyer - I believe that a hunter should have set principles. For example, I despise telescopic sights, heavy rifles and night shooting. For heaven's sake, don't imagine that hunting is merely pressing the trigger at a long-range target! The true meaning is using a high-powered rifle, not larger than a 375 Magnum, and stalking close to your prey. In this way the animal has the same chance. Hunting, in my opinion, is not cruel if you use the correct weapon. Many years ago I was accidentally wounded by my younger brother. Pain only came hours afterwards and I am sure that the same applies to shooting game. The initial shock paralyses the nervous system and the animal is barely aware of what is happening. The Luangwa Valley is hot and full of tsetse fly. My first night there recently was spent some 500 yards from the Luangwa River near a lagoon, which, incidentally, was teeming with crocodiles. That night, as I lay on my bed idly flashing my torch and counting the reflections from the unwinking crocodile eyes, I realised how indebted I was to the Game Control officials who had granted me a permit to hunt in that area. The next day I visited Chief Nsefu's village, and there I was called upon to conduct the funeral service of a young native woman. It was the Christian thing to do and I was glad to help. But that was not the end of it. Next I had people filing in front of me suffering with all kinds of ailments. An old woman leaped with the joy of relief after I had dropped some eye ointment in her eyes. Another vowed her chest was cured after sucking the remainder of my "Vicks Drops". Stomach troubles, cuts and burns - they were all in the order of the day, but the help I was able to give, paid dividends. Chief Nsefu did me the very special honour of providing me with six headmen to be my bearers, and his own son as the commander of the bearers. My objective was "Big Game," but I also wanted to fill the village larder with meat. At the time of my arrival the whole area was in uproar about a man-eating lion, which had mauled a villager. One of the game officials had told me about it previously. I was determined to get this lion, and put an end to the fear of the villagers. The lion prowled around the camp at night, keeping the boys busy with their fires. There was always someone on guard every night. One day, in the early hours of the morning when I was dreaming about the joys of the hunt, the watchman jerked my arm, and said: Listen to the Nkalamo Bwana!" Sure enough, only a mile or so away, there was a terrific fight taking place between the King of the Jungle and a buffalo. The bellowing and roaring continued undiminished for half an hour; then all was quiet again. At sunrise, I quickly drained two delicious large mugs of coffee and set off in the direction of the fight by compass, only to come to a halt after covering about eight miles of hard going in dense grass. It seemed hopeless. On our way back my boy and I took a break for a smoke and I kept an eye open for vultures. To my relief I saw them circling about 600 yards away to the left. We immediately made for the spot. When we were close enough to see the remains of the buffalo, instinct warned me to half circle the spot. It was just as well otherwise we would have blundered right onto a huge black-maned lion. He was laying peacefully in the shade of a tree ten paces from his kill, watching the hungry vultures devouring the remains. I took careful aim, with the sun white and hot above me. The bullet slapped home. It was a well-placed shoulder shot. With a great bellow, the lion sprang high into the air, clawing and roaring in his fierce rage, taking cover near a palm tree. It doesn't give you a very comfortable feeling when you have to go after a lion, and as I circled closer to him I was ready for anything to happen. But the 300-grain bullet, which I had used, was too much for him and as he rose towards me he gave one hard cough, and, to my relief, dropped dead. A hunter's day begins at dawn, with the morning star still close above the trees, and the soft smell of dew in the air. Every day I saw masses of game. There were numerous buffalo, impala, waterbuck, kudu, puku, wildpig and guineafowl by the thousands. Of course these were not all on my schedule. One morning while I was enjoying that first delicious mug of coffee, an impala ram came walking daintily into the camp. The Boy looked at me and said: "Bwana lo nyama ena buya lapa wena". Well, what could I do? I had to take careful aim and squeeze the trigger. After all, the people with me were concerned with only one thing - fresh meat for the camp. During the two weeks I hunted in that area I shot four big buffalo bulls. Two of them gave me no trouble whatsoever, but it was a different story with the remaining two. The first buffalo I shot was one of four bulls grazing in a small dambo surrounded by thick buffalo grass. I selected the best specimen and waited for him to turn so that I could get my favourite shoulder shot. I squeezed the trigger and the buffalo fell on his knees. Within seconds he was up and disappeared with the others into the long grass. Those of you who have been after a wounded buffalo will know how I felt. With his massive roll of horns and his determination to get even with you, he can be a very dangerous and nasty customer. I warned my Boys to look for safety and I followed very carefully the blood spoors. A little burnt patch in the grass gave me a clear view of the buffalo standing sniffing the air, waiting for me. I do not know who got the biggest fright but I suspect it was myself! As he lowered his head for the death charge, I fired. The bullet got in first and he dropped in his tracks. Another morning, we set out very early and had covered about five miles with hundreds of tsetse flies buzzing about us, stinging and getting their share of our blood. Suddenly, one of my Boys shouted: "Look, Bwana!" Just in front of us was the huge spoor and fresh dung of a buffalo bull. We had only weaved our way a few more paces when the bull went crashing through the long grass, running in half circles. The only sign of him was the grass swaying as his heavy body pounded through it. Then, he halted sharply, looking towards us, for the tips of his horns were visible. I guessed that he was standing broadside on, and my best chance seemed a neck shot. I aimed as best I could, squeezed the trigger, and there was a most frightful bellow as the horns disappeared - an almost certain indication that death was near. I closed in on him, and when I was almost on top of him, he tried to bite at me. But he was dead a couple of seconds later. Extracted from the Rhokana Review - May 1958 This is an occasion when some females decided that I would look a little more attractive to them wearing a wig, my latest one is blonde and flowing I dont wear it lot as It has a devastating effect on women and even with my viagra I have a hard time keeping up with all the demands on me, Love and Regards to all Johnny. Arthur Steevens — Click here to contact me Romiley Stockport Cheshire UK Monday, May 20, 2002 at 14:18:01 (PDT)

The Nkana Kitwe Little Theatre THE story of the Little Theatre is a fascinating one, because it is, at present, quite unique in Northern Rhodesia, and because it represents the culmination of a long struggle on the part of a comparatively small group of people in Nkana-Kitwe. There are, and there will continue to be, those people living here who used to enjoy either making or watching live theatre in their countries of origin, or singing in choirs or attending concerts. These people feel these things are worth doing because they satisfy something deep in us which can not really be explained: They are part of a somehow finer degree of living, and in these days of everything potted and canned, it is becoming more and more apparent that they are a necessity to the 'good life'. In Nkana-Kitwe that other necessary ingredient of the 'good life', sport, is well catered for, and as highly organised as anywhere in the world. This is as it should be, but 'culture', if we must use the word, has always been rather a 'Cinderella' because, with a transient floating population, there has been the feeling that this was a mining camp from which one had 'leave' to visit the civilised parts of the world. Note that the word is 'leave'- not 'holiday', which one uses in Europe or South Africa. In the last few years, however, there have been signs of more stability. People still talk of 'leave', but because it is a habit. There are permanent settlers here, and there is no surer sign of this than the Little Theatre. We are now concerned to see if we can sprout our own 'culture'. The Little Theatre is a theatre in miniature. It is perfectly equipped, and is designed so that everyone in it can see and hear perfectly. It is more than a theatre; it will be a miniature concert hall too. The acoustic properties of the auditorium are adjustable. The seating capacity is 246, which ensures absolute intimacy. For certain types of concert it will be possible, as is customary in the large concert halls, to seat people in cheaper seats behind the artist on the stage. The architects considered the number as the maximum which could be seated in the auditorium with the financial resources of the owners. Any increase over this number would mean a different type of auditorium design with a big increase in cost. The stage is very large indeed, being 45 foot square with a 30 foot high grid in a stage tower for two-thirds of this space. The proscenium is 24 foot 8 inches wide-slightly smaller than the old Rhokana Cinema before it was altered. Opening off it are two dressing rooms, a workshop, a wardrobe and a concert piano store. The area in front of the main curtain is flexible: it can be orchestra pit, flat apron or stepped apron, according to what is going to take place. There are proscenium doors giving access to the apron stage or orchestra pit. The agitation for a Little Theatre first started some three years ago when Arthur Lewis suggested to the Repertory Society that it was time that a Little Theatre project was started. Everyone thought how marvelous it would be but nothing was done until the N.R.D.A. drama festivals began to take shape, and other centres began to think along similar lines. The Roan were the first in the field, and Charles Thomas, of the British Drama League, who was here adjudicating at the Festival, heaped more coal on the fire. The old Repertory Society then called a meeting with other societies in the town who needed a home of their own, and out of that was born the Arts Association, an association of these groups to sponsor a Little Theatre project. The Operatic Society supported this very strongly, as did the splinter group, now the established choir. The Music Club, one of the oldest societies in the town, going back to 1936, also threw in its lot, as members were finding it increasingly difficult to hold recorded music concerts in their own homes, and in addition this Society felt it should encourage more live concerts than it could do at that time. All were keen to preserve their identity, and it was not until recently that it became obvious that to amalgamate into one strong body was really in the interests of all. The big problem (as it always is) was to find money ... big money. All sorts of schemes were explored to find either an old building to convert, or a prefab. A site was a big headache, as the Kitwe Municipal Council were unable to make one available in the near future, and even if they could, it would have made the scheme financially unworkable, with the high cost of land, and high rates. The Rhokana Corporation was approached, at first unsuccessfully, but eventually the present site in Kantanta Street was donated. This was a big step forward, and with large amounts of equipment and prefabricated buildings going at low prices in the Bulawayo Exhibition sale, the idea of buying the old Carousel nightclub was put up by the Arts Association. Quite where the money was coming from they didn't know, but Harry Lonsdale and others found enough guarantors to make the scheme worth investigating. Rhokana Corporation engineers looked at the Carousel and decided it wasn't a proposition to move it, so the Arts Association made up its mind to build a new building. Horace Williams and Partners undertook the design in an honorary capacity, and a scheme was evolved. The committee decided to build as much as it could with available funds, and then add as more money came in. The Lottery made a handsome gift of money to get the ball rolling, and much material was donated and scrounged-and so the building was taken up to slab level. It was at this stage that Rhokana Corporation decided to lend more help to move the building on to completion, and the Lottery again made a large donation. This, together with money given by Foundation Members and funds from many activities of the Arts Association member societies, made the present state of affairs possible. The last 'flap' to get the building open for the visit of His Excellency, Lord Llewellin, on August 2, is a dream now to those most intimately concerned with the building project and administration. The Executive Committee of the Arts Society Council found themselves caught up in a whirl of quick decisions and rapid meetings. Len Jackets and Barbara Moth, Charles Moth, Lawrie Atkins, Linda Lonsdale and Arthur Lewis are now wondering what they did with their time before it all started! The four committees responsible for planning the activities of the Society worked out what each would do at the opening performance, and the casts set to with a will. It should here be explained that about four months ago the four constituent Societies of the Arts Association decided to amalgamate into the Arts Society (Co-operative) Ltd. The Co-operative Ltd. merely means that the Society is registered as a limited company under the Co-operative Ordinance. It is the cheapest and simplest method of becoming a limited company. The Society is governed by an elected council of Officers and representatives of the committees responsible to the members for organising the four main activities of the Society, namely drama, musical plays, music and a choir. Any member of the Society can take part in any of the activities or others if more start. On August 2 at 4 p.m. Mr. 0.B. Bennett officially opened the foyer door with a copper key. In his speech Mr. Bennett paid tribute to the band of people who had pressed on with determination to this day. The large crowd then inspected the building and had tea outside. In the evening Lord Llewellin, accompanied by Miss Llewellin, unveiled a plaque in the foyer marking the opening ceremony in the afternoon, and His Excellency congratulated the town on its Theatre in a witty speech. The performance consisted of a one act play, 'Me and My George', a film 'Instruments of the Orchestra', some songs by the choir and 'Trial by Jury' by Gilbert and Sullivan. During the interval the audience patronised the open-air bar, which was complete with fairy lights and braziers. What of the future? The Society hopes to complete the building, and build its bar before the rains, though at present The Green Room or Club Room, will have to wait until finances are stronger. From the production side, the first full-length production will be a play, the comedy 'White Sheep of the Family', followed by 'Private Lives', the Society Festival entry. Then in October the Operetta "Patience" will be staged, followed by a play, a 'thriller'. There will be several concerts of different kinds arranged by Music Committee before the end of the year, and the Choir Committee announce that they are planning a series of Sunday evening concerts. At Christmas the Society is planning another Pantomime 'Cinderella', as a family show. This will be produced by Arthur Lewis and Stanley Edwards has again written some most attractive music. The Society still needs members. Have you anything to contribute to help make the Little Theatre a going concern? If you can act, sing, or like messing about with paint or making things, or just enjoy the theatre, get a form from the Society, Box 546, Kitwe. Article extracted from the Rhokana Review, September 1955. Driving 1,500 Miles in the Ndola Car Rally The Ndola Car Club was formed just over a year ago. Last year a 1,000 miles rally was held over Rhodes and Founders weekend. The rally was more of a family affair and involved overnight stops. This year an energetic committee ably organized a rally over 1,500 miles of Northern Rhodesian roads with no overnight stops. In organizing a tougher route, with a no-rest aspect, the N.C.C. produced something well worth driving in, and carrying real prestige for all drivers and cars. The rally attracted an entry of 41 cars. These were divided into capacity classes: - Class A (up to 1200 c.c.'s), Class B (1200 c.c.'s to 2000 c.c.'s), Class C (over 2000 c.c.'s). The outright winner was the entrant who obtained the highest aggregate marks irrespective of class. The award was the Frank Owen Cup and £200 cash. Class winners were awarded a tankard and £50 cash. In addition there were awards for team entries, ladies awards etc. In all, a glittering array of prizes totalling £600 cash, along with cups and tankards, served to attract entrants. The object of the rally was to test the reliability of the cars entered over 1,500 miles of Northern Rhodesian roads under strictly observed conditions and to test the skill of the drivers over these road sections and in specially designed tests. Our entry to the rally was a 1954 (new) Ford Prefect, the co-driver being Lou Harris. For two or three weeks beforehand we made preparations, trying to think of everything that we and the car would need. The car was fitted with a map board and lights, and provision was made for carrying a reserve stock of 18 gallons of petrol. We were told that petrol was available, but we were advised to take a spare supply, as no allowance would be given if petrol supplies were not available. Sixteen cars were entered for Class 'A' (under 1,200 c.c.'s). These consisted of two Prefects, two Anglias, eight Volkswagens, three Morris Minors and one D.K.W. One of the Morris Minors was scratched. The average speed over almost all road sections was 36 m.p.h. for 'A' class cars while the average speeds for classes 'B' and 'C' were approximately 40 and 44 m.p.h. respectively. Class 'A' started from the Municipal Offices, Ndola, at 1.30 p.m. on Saturday, July 9, leaving at 3 minute intervals. We were fourth off so that we started at 1.39 p.m. The first road section, for which we were allowed 12 hours, was to Mkushi River via Lusaka. With one minute's grace, this meant we had to arrive between 1.38 and 1.40 a.m. We soon found that we were going to have plenty of time in hand for any unforeseen trouble by cruising steadily at 40-50 m.p.h. In fact, after checking in at Lusaka, we were able to telephone home to tell our wives that we had at least travelled 215 miles safely! We then started travelling north, back to Kapiri, where we forked right along the Great North Road to Mkushi. We arrived one mile from the Control Point at just after midnight, which left us about an hour and a half to wait before checking in. One mile before each Control Point was a board stating the fact and this was most useful as the mileages given were certainly very approximate. During our one and a half hour's wait we thought we would brew up some tea on the Primus stove. This stove proved very easy to light before we left on our trip, but needless to say, it chose to be temperamental and after three quarters of an hour of battling our efforts proved vain and we had to be content with lukewarm coffee from a thermos. At 1.36 a.m. we moved off at 20 m.p.h. to check in at 1.39 a.m. After running a mile we could see no lights to indicate the control. I vaguely recalled a small turn-off about half a mile back, so turning the car around quickly we found the turn-off and careered madly along a lane which appeared to us to be about 6 ft. wide and lined with anthills and rocks. The control point was indeed along this turn-off, but we clocked in at 1.44 a.m.-four minutes late -40 points off. Our tempers by this time were not of the best and, in angrily jerking on the hand-brake, the cable parted and we were left with no hand-brake. Nevertheless, after a 15 minute break to fill up with petrol, at 4s. 5d. a gallon, we moved off at 1.59 a.m. vowing to lose no more marks! The next section was to Mpika, only 205 miles away, and we were due to clock in at 7.29 a.m. We arrived just outside Mpika at 6.30 a.m., where we were able to wash ourselves down and get some of the dust out of our clothes and hair. We checked in without loss of marks although here we were a minute early. We moved off on the 250 mile stretch to Tunduma, Tanganyika at 7.43 a.m. This road climbed through the hills just North of Mpika and in fact, the whole section was quite picturesque and we enjoyed watching the landscape forever changing as we travelled along. By this time we were getting well set into our routine of two hours driving apiece at an average speed of 43-45 m.p.h. Whoever was navigating at the time would warn the driver of what to expect in the next 90 miles and then doze off for an hour. In this way we managed to keep alert for our spells of driving. We had half an hour rest before checking in at 2.36 p.m. at the control point at the Custom's Barrier. We were permitted to pass through the barrier to Tunduma where we filled up with petrol and then went along to the rest house where we had tea and a very welcome wash. This was our first hot drink since leaving Ndola the previous day and as such was exceedingly welcome. After an hour's rest we moved off at 3.36 p.m. for the section to Kasama via Abercorn. The road to Abercorn was bad, by any standard, and really no wider than one car's width. Just after dusk we approached a long hill. The road surface at this point was corrugated with a loose sand covering. Unfortunately we had just stopped to change drivers and we were unable to get our speed above 30 m.p.h. By the time we checked in at the Abercorn Arms Hotel we were only just ahead of our target average speed. We had no time to stop at what looked like a very pleasant hotel, but had to take the road to Kasama (it was now about 7 p.m.) We left Kasama at 10.28 p.m. en route to Chembe Ferry. The road was fairly easy and we arrived at Fort Rosebery at 7 a.m., where the proprietor of Crystals Garage had volunteered to be open for petrol, coffee and sandwiches. From there we took it easy to Chembe Ferry arriving at 2.30 a.m. We crossed the river outside rally times and left Chembe at 7.21 a.m., on the road across the Pedicle to Mokambo. Most readers will know this road, so that they can judge what the rest of the roads were like when I say that the Mokambo road and the subsequent deviations on the road to Kitwe and Ndola were the worst stretches we encountered. By making good time to Kitwe we had time to spare to enable us to call in at home and have a quick wash before travelling through to Ndola. Our wives went ahead of us to see us clock in there right on time-at 11.47-exactly 46 hours 8 minutes after leaving on Saturday afternoon and covering about 1,550 miles. Immediately after checking in, each car had to undergo a braking and acceleration test. This consisted of accelerating along 150 ft. stretch of road, turning into an 8 ft. wide bay and stopping across a line. After reversing over this line the car had to go forward through the bay and stop with its front wheels on a line 150 ft. away from the bay-time limit 20 seconds. The Prefect managed this in 22 seconds. However, only two cars bettered this in 21 seconds, a Zephyr and an M.G. At this stage then we had 950 marks out of 1,000 having lost 40 marks at Mkushi and 10 on the braking and acceleration tests. In class 'A' we were lying in 9th or 10th place. All cars stood up to the pace very well-the only casualties being a Landrover, which retired soon after the start with water pump trouble, and a generator failure on a Riley. When the road sections of the rally had been completed, the competitors were finally sorted out by some rather stiff driving tests at Bwana Mkubwa on the following afternoon, Tuesday, July 12. This part of the rally had three objects: To test the driver's skill, to test his knowledge of the size and capabilities of his car, and to test the performance of the car after the 'hammering' it had had on the road sections. The details of all these tests were known beforehand and it was very obvious, at Bwana Mkubwa that many drivers had not bothered to practice. The spectators were greatly amused at the 'Mystery' test, which was the only one in which the co-driver took part. All the cars were drawn up, with their crews inside, in line abreast with an eight-foot wide gate facing the centre car. The details of the test were then announced for the first time. The co-driver had to remove the spare wheel, roll it over a line 20 yards behind the car and back. Then the front nearside wheel had to be changed, all tools and spares replaced, and the car driven through the gate. The first car through, an Austin A50, was awarded maximum points, each succeeding car was awarded one point less than the car in front of it. It was rather a frightening experience to be one of a number of cars, sometimes as many as 10 all trying to be the first through an eight-foot wide gate. However, we must have changed the wheel pretty quickly, for we were sixth through the gate. Several types of car which had given their crews very comfortable rides on the road sections showed that they were not very manoeuverable in the steering tests. Poles were broken and precious seconds lost with unfailing regularity when the three Chevrolets, the Buick (commonly known throughout the rally as 'The Gin Palace') performed. The Land Rovers also did more than their fair share of destroying markers. All other things being equal, the driving tests definitely favoured the smaller cars. This was corroborated when it was found that the two top cars in the tests were an Anglia and our Prefect. The prize giving was held that evening at the Police Reserve Drill Hall, Ndola. The open award and several other prizes went out of Northern Rhodesia and we were informed that their winners would be back to defend them next year. The final results were: - Premier Award-Tudge and Kramer in a Morris Minor with 1507 points out of 1591. Class 'A'-Kemp and Harris in a Ford Prefect with a total of 1501 points. Class 'B'-Mr. and Mrs. Glasby in a Bristol 401 with a total of 1497 points. Class 'C'-Mr. and Mrs. Bush in a Rover 90 with a total of 1438 points. Manufacturers' Team Award-Ford Anglia, Prefect and Zephyr, with a total of 4070 marks made up of 1182, 1475 and 1413 marks respectively. Open Team Award-Morris Minor, Bristol 401 and Riley U litre with a total of 4280 marks made up of 1507 1497 and 1276 marks respectively. In our case we won the Class 'A' award solely on the driving tests as the majority of our class completed the road section without losing points. The Prefect is certainly extremely manoeuverable and lends itself well to quick gear changing. Out of 591 points available for the driving tests an Anglia obtained the highest marks with 553 points followed by ourselves in a Prefect with 551 points. Article by Alan Kemp Extracted from the Rhokana Review, September 1955 Arthur Steevens — Click here to contact me Romiley Stockport Cheshire UK Friday, May 17, 2002 at 16:23:25 (PDT)

Dear Ken Miller I am afraid your description on how I became to be hairless is phantasy, as you can see I was born with an abundance of hair, but my friends used to wind me up as it started to recede and say it was caused by friction by its constant contact with bed end boards, of course that was fiction as well and if I knew the reason for baldness and could prevent it I would today be a millionare but thank you any way for coming to the defence of a follicly challenged young man. Regards Johnny. BWANA STEEVENS KEN MILLER'S dad had a Hudson vanette. Herewith a picture of My Mother with my dad's Hudson vanette outside our house in Mufulira. The house number is on the wall and reads 186 - ( J186). The little one is my dear sister Zandi. circa 1951 Regards Gordon Garlick Wrestling in Zambia Throughout the 1950's and the first half of the 1960's, Tommy Miller, "Zambia's Mr. Boxing" regularly wrote " At the Ring Side" in "Nshila" published by the Zambian Government, "Boxing Illustrated", "Ring Magazine", "Central African Post" and "Lusaka Advertiser" on boxing and wrestling antics in the Square Ring. The hero of Lusaka, was the ever popular Fred Coates, who not only wrestled, but also promoted wrestling shows at the Lusaka Show Grounds. In the Copperbelt, Fred was always perceived as the villain. Fred constantly attracted world class wrestlers to battle with him, invariable he lost the first fight, however, on the rematch he would seek revenge, and justice would prevail when he claimed victory. Tommy Miller's last article on Zambian wrestling, published in "Boxing Illustrated " March 1966. Fred Coates in his trade mark leopard skin trunks. Fred was an extremely powerful man and could single handedly pick up telephone poles. Shaking hands with Fred was like grasping a bunch of bananas. A flyer for the first battle between Fred Coates and Quassa Modo. Vincente Castlla of Spain fought under the nom du guerre " Quassa Modo" reputed to be one of the ugliest wrestlers in the world, came honestly to his ring name as he was the stunt double for Anthony Quinn in the film " Hunchback of Notre Dame". He fought Fred Coates twice with predictable results, beating the the local hero and then losing by disqualification. Tommy Miller obtaining the lowdown from Quassa Modo. Tommy, and Ken Miller getting the bald facts from Hungarian wrestler Josef Kovacs. Nikolai Zigulinoff, the Vulgar Bulgar lets his hair down while being interviewed by Tommy. The Wild Man from Borneo, obviously had a bad hair day and was a flower child of the 60's. Sli Hi Lee, the Kalahari Wild Man and Ian Campbell were just a few of the other international wrestlers that fought in Lusaka and the Copperbelt. Mike Erasmus who hailed from Kitwe was the local hero and went on to be the Zambian heavyweight wrestling champion in 1966. Fred Coates, Mike Erasmus, Tennson Phiri, Barry Lindo, Pete van der Merwe, Lucky Lawrence and Jackel Lawrence, were all noble gladiators of the square ring and put Zambian wrestling on the map. Thank you all . Ken Miller Thanks for the contributions everyone ! Arthur Steevens — Click here to contact me Romiley Stockport Cheshire UK Monday, May 13, 2002 at 12:37:47 (PDT)

Northerners Here are the long awaited photos from Johnny Green, which are a lot more interesting than mine were ! I have not "named names" to protect the anonymity of those involved, apart from the lovely Felicia, who's photo appears in so many of Johnny's shots. If you are prudish please skip by these pics, especially the last twenty or so, taken towards the end of the night. Whilst posting these pics I would like to thank all those who took part in the auction on the night of the wallow, a fantastic total of £217 was raised, which has been handed to Craig Hartnett to help defray some of the costs of running the GNR. As you were all far too gone for the intended second auction of the night, the goodies left over will be available at the next bash. Thank you all so much for your generous participation. Arthur Arthur Steevens — Click here to contact me Romiley Stockport Cheshire UK Friday, May 10, 2002 at 10:08:08 (PDT)

DES KENNY ............ YOU BLOODY LEGEND!!!!!!!! THANK YOU so very much for organising such a memorable reunion! I can only say that it was the biggest highlight of my life over the last nineteen and a half years and it could not have happened without you. All I can say is thank you, baie dankie, zikomo kwambiri, natotela saana, muchas gracias, bluddy ripper mate, you beauty, rip snorter .... etc etc etc. IZZIE .............. you SHOULD have been here! EVERYONE ELSE ............. Arthur's baladdy keyboard is upside down and the blood has rushed to my head so I shall not go on as I can no longer think. But thank you. Lots of love MO Well, I have been far too busy to post much of late - been learning all sorts of new tricks from Arthur, Dawie and Craig. Des Kenny - thank you for everything and I am sooooo sorry I forgot the bottle of Mosi!! I will remember next time - I promise!! Brasso and Julie - thank you for the gift. It will be carried back very carefully. And am I really that bad that I have been changed from 'that Chalcraft Woman' to 'that Chalcraft WomEn' George Maxwell - thank you for allowing me to steal your cap. It will also be looked after most carefully. Fi Gayther - email me your postal address and I'll put your Lowdown in the mail. Andy Torrance - thank you for cooking my steroidal, hormonal steak. I reckon a good vet would have been able to get it going again - perfect. Elias - yes, in Stockport with Arthur!!! Just imagine! Kev Shone - sorry I didn't phone you on Monday - too much to do before I left. Now, would I really like to live in a country where: you have to pack your own groceries at the supermarket; there are no waiters to take your orders in the pub and where you have to lift yourself off your fundamental orifice and place your own order; you have to fill your own vehicle with fuel and no one washes your windscreen; you have to walk to the cashier to pay for said fuel; you have to dodge the potholes in the road; where the sun doesn't go down until nine o'clock at night and even then it doesn't get properly dark; where you can't see the Southern Cross? Dawie, Arthur, Craig - after the many millions of words that have gone between us on email, it was like a dream to finally meet you. And you're all much, much better in person than you are on email. Thanks for everything. Craig - you had better start delegating the organisation of the Reunion in Vancouver to Ron Sayer - I guess it is time I visited Canada. Dawie - you had better rest very well for the next two days because this weekend it will be more than herrings, bitteballen and Jenever. I'm thinking about what comes after the Kafue. Give me five minutes. Arthur - Considering all your other assets, I forgive you for being so short. And now Northerners, here is some of what Arthur has been teaching me and I know you have all been waiting for them: from a Northerner who is now very far North! Heather Chalcraft — Click here to contact me Lusaka Tuesday, May 07, 2002 at 13:02:07 (PDT)