I was thirteen.

A teenager at last. I could get my hair cut at a 'Hair Dressers' instead of a barber. Dressed to kill, I had my first real girl friend and I grew my first sideburns. I was the biz.

A bad year for Britain, the phrase "Colour Prejudice" entered the language.

Teds ready for bovver.

Plenty of rooms to let, but the sign says 'No Coloureds'.

Police 'Stop and Search' 58 style. Nothing has changed.

Hate was every where. It did not matter who, as long as you can hate.