TAFF - pg 16 We got my suitcase, then, and rode the train to Catford, and a bus to Wellmeadow Rd. There was Pamela and the newest Bulmer, Debra. Ted Carnell 'phoned to lay Dave Kyle probably would be in, Saturday. Since nobody rise knew this, it should be a bit of sunrise to spring on the convention. Dave & Ruth had stopped by our house some months back, while on their trip out west, and Dave had mentioned that he might be at the convention, too, as they had 2 plane tickets. Debra was a bit fussy & Pamela & Ken hovered over her very solicitously I'd say that she is an extremely well looked after baby. Ken Bulmer Writes: When It turned out that the telephone call was not transatlantic but came only from Eltham way, Pamela relaxed and spoke to Don in the way the typically dignified English hostess does speak. It was a most eerie ex- perience to talk to Don on the blower, to hear that familiar voice, and to know that he wasn't sitting at home speaking into a tape recorder but was in the same city as us. After Norman Ashfield, at whose house Don was, had flapped about: a rendezvous was fixed for Don and myself at Ted Carnell's office. Typical, was that Ted didn't know this and was deluged with bods at an early hour, telling his authors that he considered them all kinds of so and so's well, me anyway. Don was sittin with his feet on the floor and his head tangled up in the lighting when I opened the door. I'd been practicing a sort of tip-toe! head bask, peering port of welcome for him in view of his height, and this was still a necessity. I'd been warned abort the ton and a half of photo equipment he had with him, and this comprised most of the studio gear of MGM and Warner Bros. He was still the same saute, good-humoured, slow-talking, yet essentially cheeky chap- pie I remembered. He loves to slid the poignant in undetected and smo- othly. Only when you're bleeding you ego all over the floor do you real- ize what's hit you. To hear the CFG going full blast is an education in civilized mayhem. It's just as well they're a good-hearted gang and ge- ntlemen - and Don is a true representative of all that's best in US fan- dom. After my idiot cries of delight we got around to discussing the day's campaign. Don had a number of places he had to see and Ted saw us off with suitable movie shots. I'd kinda like to see the one of me leap- ing into the air to get Don's topcoat on for him, and of him crouching down to facilitate the operation. With these two movements we nearly were on a level. Took Don up the Monument. He was carrying the ton and a half, and I naturally didn't want to deprive him of the job of guarding all that loot. At the top the Monument leaned a little.. We were met by a flurry of London snow-cum-rain and Don shot shots. As a camera bug, he kept apologizing to me for stopping; but that was fine by me; he was the honoured guest. We went up to Picadilly to check air reservations and more photogs were taken. Don wag wearing a white cap which looked like the nose cone of a missile soaring over the homburgs. Some charac- ter wanted to take Don on a sight-seeing tour of the Horse Guards and, all unknowingly, I choked the guy off. Kinda feel that Don hankered after that trip. Still, I took him to Tresco and a dishful of Ice cubes, hollow, which made up for that. Don drinks so much iced water that his veins must struggle to keep his big toes frozen out. Anyway, our ref- rigerator came through the test well - I was left with two trays of