Joff Morgan's Plan A on leaving school in 1957 was to break into journalism. A friend at school -Dawk 'the print' Goodall - knew someone who worked inside the hallowed offices of the Bath & Wilts Chronicle and Herald and suggested that dropping him a line might open the way up for an
interview.
In the late nineteen fifties prefab residents would sometime use false addresses when applying
for jobs at 'elite' institutions. The favourite was The Red Telephone Box, Royal Crescent. This was closely followed by The Brown Litter Bin, The Circus. (The Ladies' Rest Room, The Pump Room was quickly abandoned). Gary Bollard - buoyed up after his success in a ukulele competition - was the first resident on our estate to boldly 'come out'. After openly admitting he lived at'Prefab Number Four, Woodhedge Road, Twiverton' Gary astonished everyone by
gaining the prestigious post of 'roving arts correspondent' for the up and coming Bath Literary Festival. From that point on Gary would argue that notions of class inequality were essentially phantoms or "walls in the mind": "While East Berliners are imprisoned by the real wall that divides their city, we prefab residents in Twiverton are imprisoned by the imaginary wall that exists inside our own minds."
Even Gary would acknowledge the existence of a few entrenced forces whch were determined to do their best to resist the meritocratic 'open to all the talents' tide that was emerging at this time. Take Kingston King, head of the Queen Square firm of solicitors 'Kingston King, Withering King, and Yet Another Kingston King'. He was overheard by a reporter from the Bath & Wilting Chronicle telling a fellow Rotarian that if he received another letter of application for a junior common law clerk position from someone who lived in a prefab it would be posted back with
"you must be joking!" stamped all over it.
Joff Morgan's Plan B had been to join the merchant navy, but because his four GCE passes did not include maths he had to go back to the drawing board. So he had to fall back on Plan C - accepting whatever could be conjured up out of nowhere by visiting the pockmarked Ministry of Labour building in Avon Street in Bath. (If Plan C failed there was always Plan D - asking around for jobs on 'the building'). Avon Street had been repeatedly plagued by cholera in previous centuries, and some physicians believed that the bacilli could still be active. It was thus seen by the State as being an ideal location for a Ministry of Labour office.
Plan C worked wonders in 1957 and within a fortnight the resident of prefab number twenty-four had secured a 'trainee management' post at the sweaty foot of the Insteadof instep footware chain. Soon he was being overwhelmed with generous tips from previously shoeless
customers in Bath and Devizes. Unfortunately the 'itchy feet syndrome' is especially prevalent in the shoeware sector and - ignoring calls to "dig in your heels" and "toe the line" from fellow prefab residents - he signed for a ten pound passage to Australia. Two years later - after completing a stint in a toilet rolls factory in Sydney - he was on course to becoming a man of the world.