ANTHONY ST ANTHONY PLEASE DON'T COME AROUND
There he is on the right of the picture - Jon Anthony, the Paedophile Bangor DJ (now expired) referred to in yesterday's post on Bangor and famous Sex Pistol Rotten aka John #Liedownmanyou'vehadenough.
The provenance of this picture?
I know not, though that certainly looks like Tony Blackburn alongside (where's Arnold though? Resting up after a rough (rough, rough) night?).
My late part Bangor raised cousin Mike Smith served time at the same Onederful station (note Tony's neck pendant) as Mr Blackburn.
Mike lived with sister Eithne, mother and father Barbara (me dad's sister) and Reg a Ford cars person who introduced Mike to rally racing an activity that , in turn, introduced Mike to Johnny Beerling Radio 1 head and fellow petrol heed Noel Hair Like A Cake Edmunds , the rest being history.
Mike didn't play as good soul music as Tony though.
That's a matter of record...Feel The Need In Me.
So I digress - how can I sit here and type that Anthony was a paedophile?
Well the obviously the dead can't sue (unless they have beyond the grave powers seemingly invested in Jimmy Savile who remained a national hero in the Brexit nation for some time after expiration).
And also the posting of the above, provenance unknown picture, on a local Facebook group elicited some painful memories from those posting on the thread.
Abuse victims have little redress in the sick north - witness the monstering of Gerry Adams niece as she brought a case against her father the continued longstanding failure of Bangor Grammar School to in anyway honour or offer redress to those abused by Lindsay Brown and ...so on.
Age 15 I had my own run in with Anthony who was, at least, upfront about his intentions.
I'd no idea what his sexual preference was but I'd seen the license to thrill he had in Aquarius Shop (again, see yesterday's post)) and girls always seemed to gather round the DJ box.
In 70s Bangor sex seemed to be little more than a cruel rumour so when we heard about parties up in J Anthony Towers we were very keen, desperate, even, to go and be there.
Having made contact and secured an invite as JA played out on the DJ counsole at the ringroad dancehall The Coachman for I and me pal the night couldn't end quick enough for the aftershow came along.
The fateful hour approached, yes, JA confirmed, all was good he'd give us a lift and .."just one thing about this party."
And what's that?
"It's a strip poker party."
OH whooah, amazing, I thought.
"You strip - and I poker."
Ah, right - see ya.
We walked home that night, prolly singing Pretty Vaycunt, in the rain and deep disgust.