Hillbrow had three famous personalities, George Economides, known as Hillbrows Mayor; he drove around in a Chevrolet convertible with a gorgeous blonde next to him, I believe she was his wife. He owned a snooker saloon below the Mont-Parnasse jazz café, then George the Duke and Steven, the Yugoslavian brothers, Steven was a boxer and George was, and still is today, the notorious Casanova and deadliest street fighter, then there was Douggie Bagget a body builder who had a couple of toughs around him all the time and was reputed to be the toughest of all, until the Duke one day challenged him and Dougie talked himself out of the challenge. One night Neville, Allan and I were at the Hamburger Hut on the corner of Pretoria and Claim Str. when George and his brother walked in very agitated, he asked if anyone had seen Henni Claasens, the Don of the Dutchie Mafia of Troyville, who was looking for George, apparently there was talk going around that he was wanting to take Henni on, that Henni was past it, it was all about reputation seeking. George sat down near us and was talking to his brother in Yugoslav when a car screeched around the corner and stopped outside, I recognised Henni Claasens when he got out of the car, this man was a giant in height and girth, he stood on the pavement beckoning to George to come outside, within a blink of an eye George got up walked out and all we saw was his flaying arms as he clobbered poor Henni unconscious. Hennis brother who was in the car, got out to help and thats when Steven confronted him and clobbered him as well. It was most embarrassing to see the Claasens broers lying on the pavement unconscious, well, thats what happens to reputation seekers when they dont do their homework before an involvement. Sunday evenings we would go to Mont-Parnasse which was diagonally opposite from the Chelsea hotel for coffee and listen to jazz. When International artists performed there, the place came alive. A Dutch musician on a visit to South Africa, was invited by Dougie Finch the well-known pianist, to play at the café, he played both the saxophone and the piano, he was phenomenal, this was the kind of jazz that you only hear and experience overseas. Everyone in the coffee bar would be following the music by clicking of fingers, tapping of feet and keeping rhythm with a nodding of the head. My interest in jazz began in nineteen fifty nine, when I was sent by Olivetti to Port Elizabeth to solve technical problems. I was booked in a residential hotel, the Sunnyside on Donkin Hill, which overlooks the city. I met a couple of guys that like me, were there for a reason, one of them, Graham, was working in a pharmaceutical company owned by his father, learning all about big business. He was a typical Johannesburger, spoilt by much money, the best education, living in the right suburb, but never the less a great guy, you couldnt help laughing at his manipulative imagination. His father had bought him a Volvo PV544, one of the first in the country. He told me that the reason for the Volvo was so he would sacrifice a year in Port Elizabeth. Well, being in Port Elizabeth for a year was no sacrifice and to top it, a gift of a Volvo car for doing so how lucky can you be. He often went to Johannesburg for the weekend and I would accompany him. He drove the Volvo like a lunatic, the speed would hover around the one hundred mile an hour, for most of the trip. He loved opening the bonnet of the car so that everyone would gather around to see the famous engine. I even helped to wash and shine the car, as if it was mine. I noticed that some of the young girls at the res, took a fancy to him and his new car. Young guys could not afford new or even second hand cars, so they were always second best with the girls. We would go to his room sit on his bed with backs to the wall, and listen to his vast collection of jazz music. His favourite, was saxophonist Gerry Mulligan, and when we all got a little high, you know some wine, a zol or two, the music became hypnotic and Graham would tell us about a large frog who loved jazz called King Frog, believe it or not, King Frog would suddenly appear and start croaking timeously to the sounds of Gerry Mulligan’s sax. It was weird but true. I think that Graham was a good storyteller, and he cleverly played havoc with our imagination. Port Elizabeth was great, there was a large community of Chinese, they were fanatical table tennis players, and won most tournaments. We would go down to the feather Market Hall to watch them play, they were so agile and quick on their feet, and they looked like excited blue vervet monkeys. I tried playing at times but to no avail, they just had a flair for the game. Ivan van Tonder One Saturday night, I went with Graham to a party, in the upmarket area of the city. We were welcomed by the host, Ivan van Tonder, a short, plumpish and slightly effeminate man, you know, the waving of the hand, the exaggerated feminist body movements, the intimate little touches on your arm when speaking to you, this was part of his character, but as you got to know him you understood him. He was a great guy, a great entertainer and most of all, a big band (Stan Kenton) Jazz lover. Ivan liked me and when he got to know, that I was with Olivetti and that I travelled around the Eastern Cape area, he asked me, that when next I visited Graaff-reinet, I should pop in to the Olympic café in the main street and introduce myself. The café belonged to his sister and thats where I would meet his niece Magda. I eventually got there on a business trip and that evening went straight to the café, where Victor, the foreman of the workshop and I ordered our food, and yes it was Magda that served us. After introducing ourselves she joined us at the table, I was taken aback by her loveliness, it was obvious that Ivan phoned through and I don’t know what he said about me, but it must have been favourable, as both mother and daughter seemed delighted at meeting me. Magda was very much a boere meisie and down to earth, she even gently slapped me at one time and I was distraught at her familiarity, as that meant that she was not for me. I could not imagine being gently slapped around, whenever she was in the mood, but never the less, we enjoyed some torrid smooches and heavy petting when she visited her uncle Ivan in P.E., which was often. I think he was looking to marry her off, but definitely I was not suitable, what she needed was a rugby player. My travels for the company would send me as far as Robertson and Ladysmith to the North of the Karoo. Spending a week in the Cape countryside was always an adventure and I remember visiting the Cango Caves, Knysna, Prince Albert, the Swartberg Pass. Victor, who played for Western Province rugby club, was well known and always recognised, which made entry to anywhere so easy. We stopped in George on our way to Mossel Bay, where Olivetti had many contracts and was the supplier to government departments in the Eastern Cape; we found a small restaurant on the ground floor of a newly built and very modern block of apartments. As we sat down I noticed a familiar face a few tables away, holding a baby. We stared at each other and then I heard her say “Oh my God, is that you Franco” she placed her baby in the pram and came across to our table, we hugged one another and I sat with her for a while, I introduced her to Victor who wasn’t sure of what was going on and we started to reminisce about that wonderful holiday I spent with Volly in Cape Town, six years back. She looked gorgeous and she told me that she married someone by the name of Hamburger who had some family in Swaziland and who happened to walk in to join her for lunch. After introductions, she went into great detail of how she knew me, how we went for a moonlight, as she put it , ride on the motorbike, behaved as boyfriend and girlfriend, thank God she didn’t elaborate about the passionate moments we had. I could see he was a little uncomfortable and when she asked Victor and I to join them for lunch, I suggested that we take a rain check as we were quite late for a meeting in Mossel Bay. She hugged me once again and kissed me on the cheek for a lot longer than she should have, especially in front of her husband and with a see you soon wave of the hand we departed for our meeting, with me letting out a long sigh. Victor laughed and smiled at me with that “Ya, what was that all about” look in his face.
Posted on: Fri, 28 Mar 2014 16:23:44 +0000
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