We used to live at 106 Harris avenue Rumney Cardiff and Micky was nine years older than me, so my earliest memory was when I was four, he was thirteen.
One memory was of my Father going nuts because Micky was playing the same record over and over again; picking up the needle, moving it back and forth, trying to learn some Chet Atkins or Chuck Berry lick until either the record broke or my Father (Happy days)
Micky was always doing something else, usually something to do with the guitar whereas with Bob (My other brother) I have stronger memories.
Fast forward seven years. I don’t have any more memories until I was about eleven, apart from knowing Micky went to the states, though many of his friends have numerous stories ; including Dave Timothy, Phil Morgan and many more. I will be adding more stories to this site from them.
Next thing I knew, we were about to move to Caerwent Road, Ely, trouble was, nobody told Micky when; and my mother had a problem contacting him. So, a note was left pinned to the front door telling Micky of our new address. Shortly afterwards, Tom Jones and the squires turned up and dropped Micky off. Micky walked to the front door, saw the note and turned around, guitar case in his hand and proceeded to chase after them.
Tom and the rest of the band were pretty peeved, you see, this was Christmas week 1963, they’ve just completed a heavy playing/recording schedule and driven about 250 miles on B roads cooped up in a transit van! (This was before the M4 was built). All they wanted was to get home for Christmas and now they had to drive across the other side of Cardiff and find our new address.