Preserving the heritage of Lancing, one memory at a time. This site serves as a community archive, featuring first-hand accounts from former and current neighbours. Whether you remember the village as it was fifty years ago or are discovering its roots for the first time, explore our collection of personal stories that capture the unique spirit of North and South Lancing.
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The Bridge for Part 10: From Shop Floor to Front Line
Up until now, we have looked at the 'Hush Hush' shop as a place of industry—a hive of precision joinery, volatile chemicals, and '8-stitch' perfection. But the true weight of that work wasn't measured in man-hours or material costs; it was measured in lives.
While the women of Lancing were stretching linen and the men were reinforcing timber floors, a local boy from just down the road was preparing to put their craftsmanship to the ultimate test. His name was Denis Edwards, and on the night of June 5th, 1944, he was a passenger in the lead glider of the most daring 'coup de main' raid in military history.
The Lancing "Liberation" Links
1. The Pegasus Bridge Hero: Denis Edwards
In a truly incredible local connection, Denis Edwards lived in Lancing and was a member of the 2nd Battalion, Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire Light Infantry.
The Mission: He was a 19-year-old Private in the very first of the three Horsa gliders to crash-land at Pegasus Bridge in the early hours of D-Day.
The "Lancing" Circle: Imagine the moment: Denis was sitting inside a Horsa glider—a machine likely containing floor sections and tail units built and doped by his neighbours in the Lancing Carriage Works—as it plummeted toward the Caen Canal. He survived the crash and the fierce battle that followed.
2. The "Sussex Sappers" (Royal Engineers)
The 1st Sussex Engineers had a huge presence in the area, with 263 (Sussex) Field Company based in Steyning. During the Rhine Crossing (Operation Varsity), they were the primary users of the Bailey Bridge Pontoons manufactured in Lancing's Hush Hush shop.
The Man: Private Denis "Eddie" Edwards
Denis joined the army at just 16 (lying about his age). After the war, he lived in Lancing for decades and was a key figure in the Glider Pilot Regimental Association. He died in 2008, having spent his later life sharing the story of what happened that night in Glider No. 1.
The "Liberation" Timeline: Where Lancing Met the Front
Event
Date
Denis's Experience
The Lancing "Work" Link
D-Day (Normandy)
6 June 1944
Captured Pegasus Bridge in Glider No. 1.
Sitting on floors built in the Lancing Shops.
The Ardennes
Winter 1944
Fought in the "Battle of the Bulge."
Glider parts being repaired in the Works.
Rhine Crossing
March 1945
Landing near Hamminkeln.
Lancing Pontoons carrying tanks behind him.
The Devil’s Own Luck: Denis recorded his experiences in his famous memoir. He described the Horsa as a "great wooden bird" that creaked in the wind—a direct nod to the high-quality joinery of the Lancing craftsmen.
For many in Lancing, Denis was a familiar figure in the maroon beret standing at the War Memorial every November 11th. He carried the pride of the village that helped build the 'wooden birds' that took him to history. __________________________________________________________________________________
The Wings of Lancing: Dennis Edwards and the Horsa Glider
"The sheer scale of the Lancing Carriage Works meant it could pivot from civilian comfort to military necessity almost overnight. Perhaps the most ambitious project was the construction of the Airspeed Horsa Glider.
This film clip, which Dennis Edwards was always so keen to highlight, captures the surreal transition of the works. Dennis often remarked on the irony of men who had spent their lives perfecting the smooth ride of a railway carriage suddenly applying those same woodworking skills to a 'disposable' aircraft made of plywood and spruce.
For Dennis, these gliders represented the ultimate 'quiet' contribution of the Lancing workforce. While the Spitfires got the glory, the Horsas—built in the very sheds we walk past today—carried the paratroopers into the heart of occupied Europe. Dennis’s research ensured that this 'wooden wonder' remained a central part of the Lancing story, reminding us that the 'Workshops' were, for a time, a frontline aircraft factory."
Lancing’s Steel at Sea: The Whale Pontoons in Action
While the Horsa Glider was Lancing’s contribution to the air, these floating bridge sections—known as Whales—were its vital contribution to the sea.
The Lancing Carriage Works was one of the secret hubs for the construction of these massive steel roadway units. They were the backbone of the Mulberry Harbours, designed to be flexible enough to rise and fall with the tides while remaining strong enough to carry heavy tanks and supplies directly onto the beaches of Normandy.
Seeing the Results:
This footage shows exactly why the craftsmanship at Lancing mattered. In the video, you can see the 'Whale' spans supporting active military convoys. Every rivet and every weld made in the Lancing shops had to hold firm against the movement of the sea and the weight of the Allied advance.
As Dennis Edwards often noted, the versatility of the Lancing workforce was staggering. In one area of the site, they were mastering the delicate woodwork of gliders, and in another, they were producing the heavy-duty steel engineering that quite literally bridged the gap between the ships and the shore. It is a powerful reminder that the men of the Carriage Works were instrumental in making the D-Day landings a success.
A Personal Connection: The Driver’s View
My father was an RASC driver—one of the thousands who kept the advance moving. As he drove his Dodge WC-51 'Beep' onto a floating Bailey bridge, he was trusting the Lancing-built pontoons to keep his 8-ton load above the water.
Detail
Historical Fact
Local Link
Truck
Dodge WC-51 "Beep"
RASC Workhorse
Unit 83
Infantry Brigade Transport
Supporting the frontline advance.
Bridge Plate 4/8
Yellow weight rating disc
The "Pass" for Lancing Pontoons.
The RASC Driver beside his truck. A legacy built on the strength of Sussex pontoons.
Did you know? The Green Turtle (Railwaymen’s Club) on South Street was originally built in 1928 by Mr Tom Lance at a cost of £6,500. Special thanks to Margaret Sear for identifying Mr Tom Lance as the original builder!
While many in Lancing knew the Carriage Works as the heart of the Southern Railway, few realised that during the height of the war, a section of the works had been transformed into a high-stakes aeronautical factory. This was the "Hush Hush" Shop.
While men like Mr Warr (whose story we tell in Part 3) were training as the first line of defence against incendiary bombs, Evelyn and her team in the 'Hush Hush' shop were fighting a different kind of battle—one of precision and volatile chemicals.
Evelyn Steadman was one of the few transferred from the Upholstery department to this secret world. Her task wasn't just to "sew"; it was to engineer the wings of the Airspeed Horsa Glider. These weren't standard railway repairs; these wings were built to a staggering precision of 0.001”.
Evelyn’s transition from upholstery to glider production was a natural fit. The Trimmers at Lancing were world-renowned for their work on luxury railway interiors; the same steady hands that stitched plush velvet and leather were now tasked with the '8-stitch' precision required for Grade A Linen aircraft skins. It was a shift from the comfort of the commute to the survival of the soldier.
Evelyn Steadman and her workmate Ada. "We had to stretch calico over the frames with eight stitches to the inch and a double knot every six inches," Evelyn recalled. "Once stitched, it went to the 'Dope Room' to be hardened until the fabric felt as solid as plywood."
Note the rhythm of the workers and the scale of the wings as they are finally loaded—the very moment the precision work was handed over to the front line.
The technical requirements were staggering:
The Woodwork: The men crafting the wooden wing frames worked to a tolerance of one-thousandth of an inch (0.001").
The Stitching: Calico was stretched over these frames and secured with buttonhole stitching.
The 8-Stitch Rule: The standard was exactly 8 stitches to the inch—never 7 and never 9.
The Security: A double knot was required every 6 inches to prevent any movement.
The girls from Lancing Carriage works/"Hush Hush" shop. Evelyn Steadman front centre left.
The Fortress in the Garden: From Coaches to Gliders
The site—often celebrated as a 'factory in a garden'—found itself repurposed as a vital military fortress. The video below illustrates this transition, showing how the engineering shops were pivoted to produce Horsa glider frames and even small ships.
Watch this footage of Horsa Gliders in action to see the result of the 'Hush Hush' shop's labour.
The Longest Floating Bailey Bridge
A notable example is the bridge constructed across the River Maas at Gennep in February 1945. This was the longest floating Bailey bridge ever built during WWII, stretching nearly 1,400 metres. Lancing Carriage Works was a key production site for the airtight floating pontoons that made this crossing possible.
Did You Know?
At the height of the Second World War, 105,743 women were employed on the railways and in workshops across the country. In Lancing, they weren't just office workers; they were technical engineers providing the buoyancy needed for tanks to cross the Maas and the Rhine.
The Passport to the Works: "Before the first whistle blew at the Carriage Works, the day began on the platform. This 1948 Third Class Workman’s return ticket—popularly known as a pass for the 'Lancing Belle'—was the daily companion for thousands of workers commuting from Brighton. At a cost of 11½d, it was more than just a fare; it was the entry requirement for the 'Steel Ring' community. For many, the camaraderie of the Works didn't start at the factory gates, but in the shared carriages of the morning train."
The Philip Fry Collection: Paint Shop Staff c. 1910 featuring Foreman Mr Leppard in the bowler hat.
The Philip Fry Collection: Industrial Pride (c. 1910)
This rare photograph captures the workforce at a pivotal moment. By 1910, the mission had expanded from wagon stock to the complex construction of railway carriages.
The Foreman: Standing on the far left is Mr Leppard.
The Crew: Pictured outside the Paint Shop, these men established the high standards of finish Lancing became famous for.
The Wheel Shop: Engineering Precision c. 1910
The men of the Wheel Shop were responsible for the high-stakes task of machining wheels between centres on massive wheel-turning lathes.
Wood-block wheels: A steel outer rim with a wooden interior.
A Fire in the Works: Faster speeds and frequent braking on electric trains caused the steel rings to heat up so dramatically that they began to char the wooden blocks, forcing a transition to all-steel wheels.
Southern Railway Payment Tin No. 2446
The Friday Exchange: "This 1950 Pay Ticket belongs to Derek Fry (Works No. 2381). Derek would hand in his slip and receive this brass Payment Tin. Inside would be his wages, minus deductions for 'Railway Convalescent Homes'—the community looked after its own."
In Part 1b, we looked at the heavy industrial heart of the Lancing Carriage Works through the Philip Fry Collection, documenting the high-precision world of the Wheel Shop and the 'Steel Ring' workforce.
In Part 9, we follow those same men out of the factory gates. Armed with their Friday Payment Tins, we trace the transition from the shop floor to the social life of South Street. Using newly discovered evidence, we explore the building's journey from the private Green Turtle Club into the official BR Staff Association, eventually leading into the legendary nightlife of the 70s and 80s.
The "Lancing Club" Origins
According to the Worthing Herald on 13 January 1939:
The Value: It was built around 1928 at a cost of £6,500, which was a massive investment for the time.
The Facilities: It was state-of-the-art, featuring a dancing hall, billiards room, and a fully licensed bar.
The Scale: It had over two hundred members, including Parish Council members, making it the social "Centre" of the village.
Jenny Sampson wrote about the Railway Association Club
"The Railway Association Club, I believe it was called, was a social club for the families of railwaymen to go to. On Saturday nights in the 50’s, there was a pianist and drummer who played dance music for the patrons. I was allowed to go with my Mum and Dad, and I could do the Boston Two Step with my Dad. Also, for three years running, I was the “ New Year Fairy”, so that after a man dressed as "Old Father Time" left the dance floor, and the last stroke of 12 o’clock sounded, I would run in and say Happy New Year to everyone. I think the last time I did that, I would have been about 10"
The Railway Association Club was the true heart of the ‘Colony.’ It was here that the rigid hierarchy of the Works dissolved into the rhythm of the Boston Two Step. Jenny Sampson vividly recalls the 1950s Saturday nights, where a pianist and drummer provided the soundtrack to village life. Perhaps most touchingly, Jenny served as the ‘New Year Fairy,’ a role that saw her welcome the future just as Old Father Time left the floor—a symbol of the next generation growing up in the shadow of the great sheds."
The Human Side of Change: The Lance Era
The frequent rebranding and structural shifts of the Sussex Pad Hotel weren't always down to commercial whims; often, they were forced by fate. One of the most significant physical "rebrands" followed the devastating fire of October 1905, which left the original 15th-century inn a smouldering ruin.
The subsequent rebuild in 1906 transitioned the site from an ancient, thatched coaching inn to a more modern Edwardian establishment. It was during this pivotal era that Mr Thomas Lance served as the "popular licensee." His death in the early 1900s—occurring just as he contemplated moving to new premises within Lancing—likely triggered yet another shift in the hotel’s management and identity.
The fact that Lancing College staff sent a floral tribute to his funeral confirms the close-knit tie between the school (the freeholders) and the hotel. It reminds us that behind every "Grand Reopening" or name change, there were families like the Lances navigating the challenges of the trade.
The end of an era: The moment the private Green Turtle became the official home of the Lancing Railwaymen."
THE EDINBURGH GAZETTE, JANUARY 18, 1952.
Alan John Leslie Ridge, trading as The Lancing Club, who carried on business at 20 South Road, Lancing, in the county of Sussex.
A Tribute to Alan John Leslie Ridge: The Vision Behind the Lancing Club
While historical records often note the cold facts of a bankruptcy, they rarely capture the spirit of the individual involved. Alan John Leslie Ridge was a man of distinguished character who took on the courageous task of managing the Lancing Club in South Street during a pivotal and challenging era.
Mr Ridge envisioned the club as more than just a business; he saw it as the beating heart of Lancing’s social life. Under his stewardship, the club became a premier destination for the village—a place for the Peter Scott Band to play, for residents to gather in their Saturday best, and for local "Associate Members" to find community.
Though he ultimately faced the misfortune of a bankruptcy case, his efforts to maintain such a prestigious establishment were nothing short of brave. These financial difficulties were a casualty of the difficult economic tide that followed the war years rather than a failure of his own character.
Lancing owes a debt of gratitude to Alan John Leslie Ridge. During his years at the helm in the 1950s, he provided the stage for many of our most cherished memories. His contribution to the social fabric of South Street remains a vital part of our local history, reminding us of a time when the club was the undisputed centre of village life.
Long before he became the definitive chronicler of our village’s past, Ron Kerridge was right at the heart of its vibrant present. To many of us, Ron’s historical research is the "Gold Standard," a literal bible of Lancing’s heritage. However, back in the mid-1950s, his legendary talent for documenting history was as yet undiscovered; he was instead making his mark as a local sportsman and a pioneer of the Lancing music scene.
On any given Saturday, you might have found him on the football pitch representing the village, but on Friday nights, Ron was fronting Dick’s Rhythm Boys at the Railway Staff Association (The Green Turtle).
"Singin' the Blues" at the Green Turtle
The cutting shared by Margaret Sear captures Ron as the deputy leader of the band, wielding an "amplified" harmonica. The scene at the South Street club was electric, with Ron defending the band’s right to play for the railwaymen amidst a friendly rivalry with the Lancing Youth Club.
It is fascinating to think that while Ron was helping the "jiving and rock 'n' roll" crowds find their rhythm, he was also working alongside his bandmates at the Lancing Carriage Works. These were the men who built the village, played for the village, and—in Ron’s case—would eventually ensure the village’s story was never forgotten.
While his historical research would later become our local 'bible,' the mid-50s saw Ron Kerridge dominating both the stage and the pitch. Between 1954 and 1967, Ron was a familiar face in goal for Lancing, a position that requires a certain level of fearlessness—perhaps the same fearlessness he showed when defending his band's right to play for the railwaymen at South Street.
___________________________________
By the mid-1950s, the Railway Staff Association—affectionately known as The Green Turtle in South Street—had established itself as a premier local venue for the burgeoning rock 'n' roll scene. A contemporary report from the Worthing Gazette captures a fascinating moment of "clashing loyalties" between the Green Turtle and the Lancing Youth Club in Irene Avenue.
The dispute centred on a local band called Dick’s Rhythm Boys. While the Youth Club claimed first dibs on the group, the band found themselves drawn to the livelier atmosphere of the Railway club. Mrs M. Morris, who sold raffle tickets at the dances alongside Mrs F. Kerridge, noted that the South Street venue was "a bit more lively" and allowed parents to join in the fun with their children.
The Line-up: Dick’s Rhythm Boys
The band was comprised of local lads, most of whom were employed at the Lancing Carriage Works. Their sound was a precursor to the British beat boom, featuring:
Ron Kerridge: The deputy leader who fronted the group with an "amplified" harmonica.
Olly Hollard: Played the tea-chest bass (ingeniously using a glove to protect his fingers from the strings).
Reg Collins: On the drums.
Ray Hines & Daryl Elyzia: Providing the guitar rhythm.
Peter Diamond: Doubling on trumpet and washboard.
Bernie Corney: Guitar.
Despite the administrative friction between the clubs, the music was a hit. Mr J. Sparkes, the doorman at the time, remarked that "this jiving and rock 'n' roll seems very popular," with crowds dispersing peacefully into the Lancing night within ten minutes of the music finishing at 10:30 pm.
THE GREEN TURTLE South Street, Lancing
"THE FINEST OF ITS SPECIES"
SPECIAL NOTICE
To the many young people from Brighton, Hove, Worthing, etc., who have asked how they can join:
The answer is—by becoming an Associate Member!
Subscription 2/2/0 per annum.
FACILITIES INCLUDE:
Excellent Dance Floor
Table-Tennis, Billiards, and Darts
Meals served until 11 p.m.
DANCING EVERY TUESDAY, FRIDAY, AND SATURDAY
to the PETER SCOTT BAND
CHRISTMAS PROGRAMME
Christmas Day Lunch: 25/-
Boxing Day Gala Dance: 10/6
New Year's Eve Celebration: (See separate notice)
____________________________________________________________________________ This is how we see the transitions of stewardships
The South Street Succession: A Social Shunt
"While some recall the 'Green Turtle' as a high-society detour, Jenny Sampson’s memories remind us that for the families of the Carriage Works, 20 South Street was always 'The Association.'
Long before the disco lights of the 70s, the 1950s club was a place of formal ritual. Jenny recalls playing the 'New Year Fairy'—waiting for the stroke of midnight and the departure of 'Old Father Time' to welcome in the year. It was a world of the Boston Two Step, where a pianist and drummer provided the soundtrack for railwaymen and their families. This wasn't a high-priced private lounge; it was the social heart of Lancing's biggest industry."
"To understand the atmosphere of the Green Turtle, one must hear the music. It is a sound that still has deep roots in our village. The late actor David Ryall was a resident of Lancing for many years, and it was through him that I met his daughter, the jazz vocalist Imogen Ryall.
While no recordings of the original Peter Scott Band remain, Imogen’s sophisticated swing perfectly captures the 'Society' spirit that once filled 20 South Street. It is a fitting musical bookend to this chapter of our history.
Here's what we think the Peter Scott Band would have been like
The Sound of the Peter Scott Band
Based on the era and the venue, here is the "Nuts and Bolts" of what they would have sounded like:
Musical Style: They were a "Swing" or "Sweet" dance band. This meant they played a mix of ballroom standards (waltzes and foxtrots) and the more modern, up-tempo "Swing" numbers that were popular during the war.
The Line-up: Typically, a band like Peter Scott’s would have consisted of 6 to 10 musicians. You would have had a "front line" of saxophones, trumpets, and a trombone, backed by a "rhythm section" consisting of a piano, double bass, and drums.
The "Crooner": They almost certainly had a male or female vocalist to sing the popular hits of the day—songs by the likes of Vera Lynn, Anne Shelton, or Bing Crosby.
Why they were "Finest of its Species"
The Peter Scott Band wasn't just background music; they were the main event. At the Green Turtle, they were the reason people travelled from Brighton and Worthing.
The Reputation: To be the "resident" band at a prestigious club like the Lancing Club meant they were highly polished. They had to be able to play for hours, keeping the "Associate Members" on the dance floor until the 11 p.m. meal service.
The Versatility: One minute they’d be playing a romantic slow dance for a couple on leave, and the next they’d be "hotting it up" with a Jive or a Quickstep for the younger crowd.
The Sussex "Circuit"
Bands like Peter Scott's often did the "Sussex Circuit." When they weren't at the Green Turtle, you might have found them at:
The Pier Pavilion in Worthing.
The Dome or The Regent in Brighton.
The Assembly Hall in Shoreham.
Despite being the resident maestro at the Lancing Club and drawing crowds from as far as Brighton and Hove, Peter Scott remains a man of mystery. Like many of the talented musicians of the era, he likely held a 'steady' day job in the village or Worthing, only stepping into the spotlight on Tuesday and Saturday nights to lead the dancers through their paces."
The Post-Industrial Era: Shoestrings, The Place, Keystones
After the Works closed in 1964, the "Railway" identity eventually faded. The building moved into its modern life:
Shoestrings: The gritty, intermediate nightclub phase.
The Place: The 80s/90s rebrand into a more "polished" venue.
Keystones: The final stop in our timeline.
From Swing Standards to "The Last Smooch"
As the decades turned, the atmosphere at 20 South Street shifted from the sophisticated "Society" vibes of the Green Turtle to something much louder and more energetic. By the time the venue was known as The Place in 1979, the resident jazz bands were a memory, replaced by the thumping bass of the disco era.
Local witness Richard Thorpe recalls that by 1979, the music was almost exclusively DJ-led. It was the era of the classic British disco ritual: a circle of girls dancing around their handbags in the middle of the floor, while the boys propped up the bar, watching and waiting.
The night always followed a predictable choreography—the high-energy hits of the charts eventually giving way to the "last smooch," that final slow dance that signalled the end of the evening. It was a world away from the two-guinea subscriptions of the 1950s, but it was exactly where Lancing’s youth wanted to be.
"Richard Thorpe remembers the dancing and the 'bar-propping,' but the names of the DJs at The Place remain a mystery. Was it a local lad from the Carriage Works with a good record collection, or one of the travelling 'Mobile Discos' from Brighton? If you remember who was behind the decks in 1979, let us know!"
The 1979 Shift: Handbags and Bar-Propping
Richard Thorpe recalls that by 1979, the music was almost exclusively led by a DJ. The dance floor was dominated by a classic British ritual: groups of girls dancing in tight circles around their handbags, creating a "sacred space" in the centre of the room. Meanwhile, the boys—Richard included—followed their own tradition: propping up the bar and watching the floor with a mixture of hope and hesitation.
The night always followed a predictable arc. The fast-paced disco hits would eventually fade, the lights would dim, and the DJ would announce the "last smooch." This final slow dance was the signal that the night was over, a far cry from the New Year rituals of the previous generation, but just as essential to the social fabric of South Street.
This was the social sanctuary for men like W. J. Knight, H. R. Lowman, and A. E. 'Bert' Pelling—men we’ve identified from the 1936 Toolroom and the 1914 Firemen rosters. For them, the 'Running Man' over the door wasn't just a sign; it was a badge of their trade.
Courtesy Philip Fry Collection
From the 'Running Man' to the 'Midnight Snack'
In this latest look at the South Street site—variously known as the Railwaymen’s Association, The Green Turtle, and The Place—a tiny detail on the front porch has helped us unlock a whole new timeline.
The Clue on the Porch
If you look closely at the hanging insignia over the entrance in this B&W photo, you’ll see the silhouette of a slender running man. This is the classic "Mercury" (or Winged Messenger) emblem of the British Railways Staff Association (BRSA).
Its presence dates this photo to the pre-1965 era. This was the social sanctuary for men like W. J. Knight, H. R. Lowman, and A. E. 'Bert' Pelling—men we’ve identified from the 1936 Toolroom and 1914 Firemen rosters. For them, the 'Running Man' over the door wasn't just a sign; it was a badge of their trade.
Philip Fry Collection The Barman is Bert Jasper, Mrs Jasper sitting, Ron Tout in the blazer and Norman Dixon I expected a velvet-lined lounge, but I found a no-nonsense hub of railway life instead—which probably suited the men of the Steel Ring just fine.
The Upstairs/Downstairs Split
By the early 1970s, the "Running Man" had been replaced by a new professional energy. We now know the building was owned by the Steele family, who managed a fascinating dual-purpose venue:
Upstairs: A restaurant run by Ann & Fred, used for "big gatherings" and respectable dinners.
Downstairs: The high-energy club managed by local legend Tony Hills.
The 'Legal' Chicken in a Basket
A brilliant detail has emerged regarding the nightlife of the 70s. To stay open late, the club had to navigate the strict licensing laws of the time. As Lucy Lastic recalls, you had to have a "snack" to keep drinking! This explains the famous "Chicken in a Basket"—it wasn't just a meal; it was your legal ticket to stay on the dance floor until the early hours.
Title: A Tale of Two Floors
"As our community research has revealed, the venue was a true 'double-decker' of Lancing social life. According to Lucy Lastic, the building operated on two distinct levels:
Upstairs: A high-quality, 'proper' restaurant famous for its amazing food—likely the heart of the Green Turtle’s reputation for weddings and formal functions.
Downstairs: The high-energy club floor, where the 'Basket Food' was served as a clever legal necessity to maintain that all-important late drinking licence.
This explains how the building could host a dignified wedding breakfast upstairs while a packed dance floor was in full swing below!"
The "Eshmans Girls": Dawn Clift remembers Saturday nights with "the girls" from the Eshman Brothers & Walsh furniture factory.
The "Rocket Dance": Sean Mckeown and others recalled the high-energy stomps to glam-rock hits like Mud’sThe Rocket.
The End of the Night: The ritual walk to the Chinese takeaway just along the road before the journey home.
From a respectable railwaymen’s guild to a "Midnight Snack" disco hub, South Street has seen it all.
Courtesy Margaret Sear When the Club in South Street was called Keystones
The Mid-80s Pivot: Shoestrings
While many remember the glitz of The Place in the 70s, the building underwent a brief but memorable rebranding in the mid-1980s as Shoestrings. This era served as the 'bridge' between the Steele family's tenure and the final years of Keystones.
courtesy John Wood By the 1970s, the industrial graft described in Part 1 had blossomed into a vibrant social scene at 140 South Street. This menu cover, kindly shared by John Wood, represents the 'Fine Dining' era of the building—a far cry from the sawdust and steel of the workshop, yet built on the very same foundation of railway fellowship.
Thanks to John Wood’s discovery, we can almost imagine sitting at a table in the upstairs restaurant at 140 South Street. This maroon and gold 'table tent' would have stood proudly between the salt and pepper shakers, offering the late-night menu or the wine list to the sounds of the 'Rocket Dance' downstairs.
It’s a far cry from the building's strict beginnings. As Steve Bray recently uncovered, the venue's move toward public life was strictly regulated; in November 1966, you couldn't just walk in—you had to apply via the Worthing Gazette, pay an annual subscription, and formally agree to the house rules!
Supper and a Side of Footballers
Life at The Place wasn't just about the music; it was about the 'substantial meal' required to keep the bar open late! As Martin Greenfield recalls, the late licence depended on a Vista curry or the classic Chicken Supreme. It was clearly the spot to be seen, as it wasn't unusual to spot Brighton & Hove Albion players rubbing shoulders with the Lancing locals on the dance floor.
Era
Known As...
The "Vibe" & Key Details
People & Connections
1930s - 1950s
Railwaymen’s Association
Professional sanctuary for Carriage Works staff. The "Slender Runner" (Mercury) emblem on the porch.
The transition era. Traditional club atmosphere but with dancing to jukebox records.
Valerie Miller & the early 60s "fond memories" crowd.
Early 1970s
The Green Turtle / The Place
The "Dinner & Dance" years. Upstairs restaurant and the famous "Late Night Snack" legal loophole.
The Steeles (Owners), Ann & Fred (Restaurant), Lucy Lastic (Waitress).
Mid-1970s - 1980s
The Place
The Disco powerhouse. Saturday Night hotspot for factory workers and out-of-towners.
Tony Hills (Manager), Max Eichenhofer. The Eshmans factory girls and the "Rocket Dance."
Late 1980s
Keystones
The modern era. A sophisticated alternative to the Brighton nightclub scene.
Bob Potter, David Taylor (Worthing regular).
Name
Connection
Memory / Detail
Toni Brown
Weekend Regular
Linked The Farmers as the "packed" starting point before The Place.
Jean Holloway
Regular
Recalled the food hatch being "out the back" of the club.
The Farmers
Pub (Lancing)
The go-to "pre-club" pub for the South Street crowd.
The Lancing Magnet Lancing wasn’t just a destination for work; it was a destination for a Saturday night. Even those from over in Portslade would make the trip to The Farmers to catch local legend Terry C. By 'more luck than judgement,' visitors would find him holding court, obliging a bombardment of song requests that kept the crowd coming back week after week. It was this mix of high-end dining at The Place and the boisterous, interactive pub scene that made Lancing a social hub for the whole Sussex coast.
The South Street Magnet
"While the 'Sheds' were silent at night, South Street came alive. Local resident Paul Carter remembers the crowds lining up outside The Place, with queues stretching right down to the pavement. On Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights, the venue was 'chocca' until the 2am chucking out time. It is a stark contrast to the quiet village we know today—a time when 'little old Lancing' was a genuine hotspot for the entire region."
_________________________________________________________________________________ What started as a single photograph of a porch has revealed a 50-year social history of Lancing. From the precision of the railway engineering shops to the stomping rhythm of the Rocket Dance, South Street has been the stage for it all. A huge thank you to everyone who shared their names and memories to help build this record of village life.
