Red Robinson's Rock 'N Roll at Victoria's Memorial Arena

© by D.Grant DeMan

As my sister and I danced in a flood of spotlights we couldn’t see the crowd of teeny-boppers, the rows of saddle shoes and drape-shapes, but we heard the mighty roar of “GO GO GO” echoing above the saxes, drums and guitars. Margaret and I were performing for the masses, experiencing our first moment of Victoria fame in the Memorial Arena on a magic Saturday night in the summer of 1956, to be joined by the rock’n roll champions of Spokane Washington.

Rockin' 'n Rollin' at Victoria Memorial Arena, 1956
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In the exalted thrill of that moment my twenty-year-old mind could not possibly comprehend the repercussions that lay in wait, for I was a freezer-man, an errant one to boot.

The journey to our brief days of glory began the previous Thursday. Dick Harding, both boss and friend in the sale of food plans, handed out referrals to his freezer-men - those who marketed deep freezer contracts with a promise of cheap food-delivery: “Don, you go visit Mrs. Wilson up in Oak Bay tomorrow at one. She’s ripe for the picking, a real up-town kind of family, a real goodwill sale for us.”

Now I had every intention of carrying out Dick’s orders, but one thing (as they say) led to another....

My favorite uncle, George, was visiting from California. So with my steady, the angelic Audrey, didn’t we have the whole sunny morning to visit around town? Yep. But when we got to the arena, finding Red Robinson (who at the time ran the largest rock and roll fan club on the Pacific Coast from CJOR) was visiting with his bunch, we followed the screaming crowd in, and did we dance!

Wow. Somehow Marg and I won the big contest, though I was a tad disappointed to hear Red, just a short freckle-faced kid about my age, complain because we lacked real competition. “Should be more good dancers here in Victoria.” He remarked. Both uncle George and Audrey were mightily impressed, however.

At any rate, Red immediately scheduled us to dance that evening at the Hudson Bay - that is correct - The Bay had cleared a floor just for this event, a public relations publicity production, at which she and I had a good time, and subsequently were invited to entertain the Saturday night Arena rock and roll concert fans.

So there we were, Marg and I straining our young bodies in elliptic maneuver for the crowd while buddy Dave Chan - later famed Playboy photo-scout - snapped pictures, as he did at most of our parties and functions. It was a wild, wild weekend. The Spokane couple, swinging a combination of bop and jitterbug - not quite so strenuous and a little more foot-fluent - were excellent. They gave us a number of records, among which was their theme, Jump-Jump-Jump by the Treniers, which we played until the grooves wore out.

It is surely written though: for every pinnacle of youthful elation, there exists a down-side. Naturally both the Times and Colonist carried news of our exploits, and I faced the real music next Monday morning in the meeting-room of the Strathcona Hotel.

“Rock, rock, rock!” Chided my fellow salesmen beating on the long mahogany table, where they sat in conference. Dee Man, the great rocker had entered. The ribbing was unmerciful.

As the din subsided, Dick, whose piercing dark eyes glared soul-branding guilt from the head of the table, whispered solemnly, “I guess you didn’t get to see Mrs. Wilson.”

“I reckon not.” I was lower than contrite.

“I’ll see you upstairs in my office after the meeting.” Lower even than a side-winder.

The gist was a mutual decision of course that since failing really to cut the cloth of a dedicated freezer man, I might wisely follow more profitable professional avenues. Since the college year was almost upon us I got a boilermaker-helper job at the VMD for the rest of the summer.

Now sometimes when I view Red Robinson pushing his latest movie choice or product on the television screen, I go up to my study, take out my old photo-album and, glorying in the sight of Dave Chan’s picture of Marg and I in our striped rock’n roll outfits, relive that brief moment of youthful fame.

Rock-rock-rock! Go-go-GO!


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