I had obtained a job at the Lyons Corner House, Piccadilly Circus, my wages were around £4.10s shillings per week, my friend worked there with me.

We had the roughest job in the entire place.  We were placed into what was called ’The Bull Ring’ where we stood in a square box, each one taking it in turn for a four hour stretch to work at the double, collecting the plates as they came down the conveyor belt from separate directions literally in their hundreds.

There was no way you could stop for a second, because to do so would result in piles of plates crashing to the floor.  When it was not our turn to be in the Bull Ring, (it was always manned by two people) one of us had to do the work of two men if no-one came to take over from us.  In the end we became so good at our job they decided to keep us there. 

My friend and myself were the first two black people ever to be employed permanently in any of the Lyons establishments throughout the country.  I am pleased to say within months of our employment, other black people began to find permanent employment at the Strand Corner House and the Cumberland Hotel, London.

Some months after the wedding of Princess Elizabeth, now Queen Elizabeth II, and the Duke of Edinburgh which I had the privilege of witnessing in Trafalgar Square.  I was called into the office of the Manageress of the Lyons Corner House.

She told me she thought I was a nice boy with good manners, and good appearance.  She said she wanted to conduct an experiment which would be to take me out of the kitchen and place me instead in the Dining Room, collecting the dishes from the tables.

She assured me, although I would not be paid more, it meant I would not be confined to the stuffy kitchen and the horrible Bull Ring.

It was the first time since being in England any white person had ever spoken to me with such kindness and humility, I felt she cared.  I gladly accepted my new position, but it was not to last for long.

About a week later, on a Monday morning when I arrived for work and was called to her office.  She was in tears and asked me to sit down.  On her desk were hundreds of letters objecting to my presence in the Dining Room.  I read a few of these letters,  their objection was that they did not want the presence of a ‘nigger’  in the same place they were, while they were eating, some accused us of being nasty and said we were not fit to be on par with civilised people!

I was moved back to the kitchen, only this time not to the Bull Ring but to peel potatoes and do other odd jobs.   

In our opinion they were the people who were being uncivilised, because where we came from people did not behave in that manner.