Dave Howard (Popular singer of popular songs)

When he was a child my Father earned the nickname “The singing cowboy” quite where the cowboy part came from I never did find out, but sing he did at every opportunity. Travelling to and from school. Playing out with his pals, in the church choir of course, almost anywhere it didn’t matter to him who was or wasn’t listening, he would sing because he loved to sing.

As a young man he dreamed of attending the royal collage of music and he did for a time until family commitments dictated that he find work to support his family. Things were different then, priorities were down to basics and his grand ideas of becoming a classical singer ended when he met and married my Mother. Then I was born and any hopes he might still have had of returning to collage slipped quietly and without fuss from his mind.
In the early fifties he auditioned for the male singer part with the Robinson Kershaw Big band, at that time dance bands had two singers, a female singer and a male singer who would take turns to step up to the mike and croon to the audience. He got the part, he couldn’t not have, he was good, in fact he was very good. Many a girl swooned to the sound of his velvet voice, and he had a presence on stage that was unique.

How do I know? Well several times I was present in the audience at his shows. One of which was an outside concert in Heaton Park. My mother, brother and I arrived after the show had started and as all the seats were taken, we stood some way away in a crowd of what then were called bobbysoxers, young girls who danced their feet of as the band played. At one point my Father came down and brought us to the front of the stage where he had arranged seats for us.

He recorded several songs one of which was “Hey There, you with the stars in your eyes” made nationally famous by Edmond Hockeridge, of course I always thought my Dads version was better, but then I would. However I wasn’t the only one because he was invited by Joe Loss a famous bandleader of the day to guest sing with his orchestra at a special anniversary show for the BBC.

He was billed alongside many famous acts of the fifties including Ken Dodd and Dave King at the Blackpool ballroom. He also sang with the Jack Payne orchestra in summer shows up and down the country. The top picture was taken at the Buxton town hall annual dance; the second picture was taken during a night entertaining the troops at the American air force base in Burtonwood.

I grew up listening to dance band music and singers like Frank Sinatra, Al Martino and Mel Torme, but the biggest musical influence has always been my Father, and like him as a child I would sing my head of and try to be him. In the early sixties some friends and I formed a group, but I wanted to sing ballads, and for a time I sang on the Northern circuit in clubs and pubs and I wasn’t bad, but I wasn’t my dad either.

Whenever the family went out together to the local club for a drink and a dance, people who knew him always asked him to get up on stage and sing. Most of the time he didn’t really want to, but he did rather than disappoint anyone. He would sing a couple of songs then return to his seat to thunderous applause.

One night toward the end of his life after being asked to get up and sing he whispered in my ear as he passed “This is the last time I am going to do this”. Instead of singing a ballad as expected he stood in the middle of the dance floor and sang unaccompanied Pagliacci. Those at first embarrassed by what was happening suddenly where enthralled by this wonderful tenor voice coming from a man who normally had their feet tapping.

His voice soared high and its rich timbre sent shivers down my back, tears filled my eyes and I just didn’t know where to look. When he had finished the song and the last heartbroken laugh of the clown echoed in the completely silent room, there was a pause then as my Dad walked back to his seat my ears were deafened by the sound of clapping that seamed to go on forever.

As he walked toward where we were sat he looked at me with just a hint of a smile on his face and winked. That was the proudest moment of my life and the last time my Father ever sang in public.