I first met Brian when we both started at Cheltenham Grammar School in 1953. We were born in February 1942 exactly 3 weeks apart, I being the older, and we spent the first year grouped alphabetically in separate forms. It wasn't until 1954 that we became actual classmates, when we were both placed, according to our test results, in the A stream which was selected to take O levels a year earlier than the other three forms He was obviously academically promising, which was a prerequisite to be selected for the A stream. . Back then I was known as “Olly” to my friends and I knew Brian as “Joner”.

  Brian and I didn't become good friends probably until the fifth form, (the fourth year, there being no first form), when we  were closely associated with another person, Barry Smith, in an increasing affinity regarding life as mid-teenagers; an interest in music and a decreasing willingness to abide by the stuffy old-fashioned mores of the school. The three of us continued our friendship into the sixth form where Brian and Barry did two years to A level, which I also did, but I stayed on for another year to take Scholarship Levels. Brian and Barry took the harder discipline, Physics, Biology and Chemistry whereas I did Zoology, Botany & Chemistry, so we shared many of the lessons and were housed in the same lecture theatre under the chemistry head, Mr. Thomas.

The three of us were keen music buffs and record collectors and together often visited a record shop off the High St. (named Mansell's I think) in the lunch hour to talk music, sample records and purchase  LP's. Musically, our tastes were allied but with different nuances. Brian liked trad jazz at this stage and Barry preferred big band modern jazz. I specialised in collecting authentic blues records of such artists as Blind Lemon Jefferson, Cripple Clarence Lofton, Boodlit Wiggins, Mississippi Fred McDowell etc. - the more primitive and authentic the better. Brian once said to me jocularly, but also somewhat disparagingly, that my penchant was for "cigar-box guitars" as if I was a little naive in my taste and that of course is a source of great amusement to me as he later became such an exponent of the slide guitar himself, emulating such as Fred McDowell or Elmore James.  Brian became more and more blues orientated over time and I remember us discussing the demise of Big Bill Broonzy, whose music we both liked, and the gloom we three shared at his increasing poor prognosis and eventual death in 1958.

Brian, like me, was in no way sports orientated regardless of his asthma, whereas music was second nature to him. Both of us increasingly skived off sport as much as possible.  We were supposed to attend weekly games afternoons at the Hester's Way sports field, which included cross-country running. Barry's home was on the estate which bordered the games field and we had a ploy which we worked two or three times where we would leave the pavilion as part of the hundred or so on the run, but almost immediately dive off down the few yards to Barry's house. Here we would listen to Stan Kenton or Gene Krupa records until the front runners returned half an hour or so later, then we joined the last stragglers back. Luckily, we were never caught out. I remember Brian being off school on the odd occasion with pleurisy caused by his asthma, but it was no big deal. He certainly wasn’t disabled by it and it didn't stop him playing clarinet which was the main instrument he played when I knew him.

My association with Brian was predominantly at school as I lived some 8 miles from Cheltenham in Winchcombe and Brian and Barry both lived on the opposite side of Cheltenham, a bus ride from the centre. This made fraternisation difficult other than at school as one had to use public transport. I did go to Brian's house in Hatherley once, but neither his parents or sister were present. I went there specifically to collect some 78 rpm records that Brian wanted to give me. They were trad jazz including Kid Ory, Jelly Roll Morton etc.. I still have those records, which are now quite nostalgic to me.

There was an occasion when Brian was involved with a band in a community hall in Hatherley. I can't recall now whether he had organised it or was actually playing in it, but he had invited me. A friend and myself travelled from Winchcombe to the venue, but no sooner than we had gone into the lobby of the hall than I was approached by a group led by Teddy-boy in Edwardian garb obviously looking for trouble. We immediately beat a hasty retreat and ran off down the road with the yobs in pursuit and I only escaped by hopping onto the deck of a moving double-decker that was just leaving its stop for town. My friend was not so lucky, having run in the opposite direction, and eventually ended up having to walk back into the town centre where we were reunited at the bus station for home.

I wouldn't say Brian was "well liked", but he wasn't specifically disliked either. He was mentally very sharp and I've little doubt that had he been more conventional and compliant, he would have done very well academically. Then the world would have lost what he did become and one of the most influential and significant bands of all time would not have come into being. There is no doubt that Brian had serious rebellious tendencies, and they certainly became more common from the fifth form, and increasingly so through the sixth form. The school uniform of grey flannel trousers, black blazer, polished black shoes and mortar board were an increasing anathema to the three of us. In reality the mortar board summed up the ridiculous public-school-like attitude of CGS which was housed in a suitably Dickensian Victorian edifice.  In a mark of defiance, and simple sartorial awareness, the three of us wore suede shoes instead of polished ones and trousers bought at a drapers across the road from the school, were invariably "taken in" by them for a modest fee to 16 or 17" bottoms. I can't remember any of us smoking in school but, instigated by Brian, the three of us certainly went into the snug of a small pub off Winchcombe Street for a beer on a few occasions in lunch hour, and such activity would have had serious consequences had it been observed, especially as we were under-age.  In the summer we sometimes spent a free period in the open-air lido in Sandford Park “socialising” rather than actually swimming.

 

Brian, however, would take things much too far and, on one occasion, I remember being in the Physics Lecture Theatre which had the sloping floor accessible through a trap door. In those days a crate of milk in one-third pint glass bottles was provided daily and Brian inexplicably took it into his head to throw his empty bottle down the void to smash it, followed by several others. He was found out for this by Conway the physics master but I am unaware now as to what punishment he got for that. The incident is quite vivid in my memory as it rather made me aware that Brian courted the sort of trouble I didn't have the stomach for.

There is one infamous incident that stands out very vividly in my mind that was known to the school authorities as the “Protherough Affair” which finally damned Brian in the eyes of the Head Master and had repercussions for me also. I cannot recall that there was any specific reason for the antithesis between Brian and a final-year prefect named David Protherough, but Protherough exercised his official position as a prefect to excess and was generally a rather unpleasant abrasive individual, although I’d not had any particular issues with him personally. The prefect system in CGS selected those who would embrace authority and exercise discipline by proxy and they could set lines or even detention. By and large they were fascistic and generally disliked by the majority of students, but obviously preferred by the teachers. Brian and Barry were the two people who elected to do something about the dictatorial Protherough and a third boy named Edwards was willing to engage in a fist-fight with Protherough in an organised contest in the gym, reminiscent of a public school duel as if Protherough was a latter-day version of Flashman of Rugby School. Edwards also came from Winchcombe and was in the final year six form and didn't normally associate with us. He was generally a quiet unassuming person and I genuinely think he undertook the task in a spirit of righting a perceived wrong by cutting Protherough down to size. It has been said that the argument between Brian and Protherough was over a girl but I don't subscribe to that and I don't believe Edwards would have had any incentive to have fought Protherough by proxy on that basis. Brian wanted me to join him and Barry in the gym for the showdown at the appointed time in the lunch break but I declined as I could see the likely serious fallout and having elected to stay on in the third year sixth, whereas Brian and Barry had decided to leave, I felt I couldn't afford to blot my copybook. The fight did take place and Edwards gave a good account of himself, as I understand it, before it was broken up by teachers. The repercussions did come as feared. I found myself required to line up outside Dr. Bell's office with Edwards, Brian and Barry and then each of us were questioned individually by Dr. Bell. I tried, briefly, to protest the fact that, although I knew of the arrangement, I did not go to the gym to witness the fight. I was found guilty anyway which in, effect, branded me a liar, whereas I would have deserved being called a coward for not backing up my friends. Edwards was expelled from the school, although allowed to return briefly only to sit his final exams. Brian and Barry were both suspended for two weeks and I got the lesser sentence of one week's suspension. In reality, I was found guilty by association and punished according to my perceived hierarchical position in the trinity. In addition, we all received six strokes of the cane across the hand. My injured sense of justice has stayed with me all my life.

David Protherough was in the year ahead of me and Brian and was a year older, so the fight took place in his 3rd year sixth when we were in 2nd year. Protherough then went up to Cambridge. He was a successful rugby player for Cheltenham then Gloucestershire and later for Saracens and Moseley, where he was also a coach. When at CGS he also played for England Schools International (under 19's) ensuring that he was a favourite of the school authorities. As a player he was a hooker as is apparent from his stature in the photo below! By and large he had a reputation as a hard and uncompromising player. He certainly represented a daunting pugilistic challenge and Brian would have been no physical match for him personally. Protherough's actual eventual profession was as a school teacher at Chosen Hill School in Churchdown, Gloucester. Tragically he was knocked down and killed in 1995 when walking home in an October fog. He had a couple of sons who are also successful rugby players.

Whilst it’s been said that Brian's disaffected attitude was a compensation for a domineering father, I never ever thought that myself. My impression was rather the opposite, as, in my perception, Brian was not a meek person by any stretch of the imagination. He was certainly stronger-willed than me. His parents were classic middle-class with all the typical middle-class aspirations and expectations for their children, such as sending Brian to the private Dean Close School before CGS.  I, by contrast, came from a working-class background without such pressures and, hailing from a village, spoke with perceivable Gloucestershire accent (now sadly lost) as opposed to Brian's refined pronunciation with his slight dandyish lisp.

After Brian and Barry left CGS I started to take life more seriously and, although school life without them was much more humdrum, minus the distraction my grades improved significantly, as the two school reports below (Autumn 1958 & Spring 1960) show:

I only saw Brian once after he had finished at grammar school. In the summer of 1960, on a Saturday, I was walking with my girlfriend  up the upper High Street to catch the Gillett's bus from their depot back to Winchcombe when Brian materialised onto the street in front of us from a doorway which led to the Azrec coffee bar. We immediately got into conversation comparing life notes. He expressed his opinion that I had done the right thing in staying on at CGS, regretting that he had not done so, and seemed a little down when reflecting on his own situation. I didn't have much time to spare then because of needing to catch our bus but we agreed to meet the following Saturday in the town bus station. To my eternal regret I never kept that appointment, for whatever reason, and I feel a little guilty to this day every time I recall it.

Regrettably, I never saw Brian actually play professionally in person when he had achieved success. I lived in Oxfordshire in 1964 when the Stones played in Aylesbury in Buckinghamshire and my wife and I had tickets. We battled through thick January fog to the Granada and saw the band but, ironically, Brian had not made it.

The reason for Brian’s absence is detailed in Bill Wyman’s book Stone Alone:
I got on the Stones bandwagon bound for Aylesbury... Keith woke up long enough to observe 'here comes the fog'...our speed dropped to 15mph and we crept along. Our one-hour trip by now had taken three hours and we were on the outskirts of Aylesbury when Mick shouted as Brian's car loomed out of the fog and began to pass us. Brian was obviously totally lost and heading in the opposite direction. We all yelled out of the windows, but were unheard and he disappeared into the fog. Brian never reappeared from that foggy sighting but we arrived at Aylesbury and played two concerts without him. The Ronettes arrived five minutes before the end of the show.

Brian was buried in Cheltenham cemetery near his leukaemia victim sister, Pamela, but exceptionally deep. Coincidentally, the 43 acre cemetery was laid out in 1863 by my maternal great-great-grandfather, George Yiend, mason and quarry-master of Gloucester Street, Winchcombe using limestone from his Cleeve Hill quarries located near where I grew up. It is now Grade II listed and on the Register of Parks and Gardens as being of special historical interest. I have had to visit this cemetery several times regarding the interment of my own relatives but avoided the poignancy of locating Brian's meagre headstone.

The opening of the CGS school song is: "Let us now praise famous men" and, ironically, in a 100 years time, Brian Jones will be infinitely more famous than the "famous" CGS alumni of the time, Bishop Jayne or the cricketer Gilbert Jessop, and, in musical terms, probably better known even than composer Gustav Holst who attended CGS between 1886 and 1891. The school motto was: "That which is hidden shall be revealed" - quite so!  Brian made a mark on the world that exceeded that of any other Old Patesian who preceded him.
Brian was not my life-time best friend but he was a significant school friend. All these many years later I still feel sad when I think of what happened to him - not just his death but of his decline before that. In a way it seemed predestined and no great surprise in reality.  To some extent Brian had been a negative influence on my attitude and studies but in my final year at CGS  I knuckled down, worked harder, and got my AS levels with a Distinction in Zoology, won a County Major and was awarded a place at Nottingham University. Bad influence or not, I'm very glad I knew Brian Jones, the errant musical phenomenon I believe him to have been, and he was definitely a one-off the likes of whom I have not encountered again in my life.

© Roger Gore 2019.