A wry look at Worthing

They included the next mayor, James Doyle, and his charming wife.

Guests were greeted by the sound of a ticking clock as the budding broadcasters ticked down to noon, when the station went officially live for the first time.

The reception was held upstairs at the Dome cinema, in recently refurbished rooms formerly occupied by a bingo hall.

Splash laid on a fantastic spread, washed down by champagne, and followed by a splendid cake prepared by Amity Creations in Broadwater.

But the sound of waves crashing on the beach emanating from the loudspeakers sounded like static - or what the noise interrogators use to wear down captives.

The helium-filled balloons on each table were anchored by pebbles from the beach, a small but quaint touch.

Veteran DJ David Hamilton kickstarted the station into life with a very slick show and, for the record, the first track was Listen To The Music by the Doobie Brothers.

Former Northbrook College art student turned singer Leo Sayer was the first guest, chatting about his hit Moonlighting, based on the daughter of a Worthing police chief who eloped to Gretna Green with her lover.

There has been a great deal of concern lately about the Sars virus and the potential worldwide danger it poses to public health but are people over-reacting?

History tells us to err on the side of caution, as the 1918 flu pandemic killed millions, many of them previously healthy individuals and Worthing did not escape its ravages unscathed.

In the late autumn of that fateful year, schools around the borough were closed for a month and at the Dome cinema proprietor Carl Adolf Seebold, facing potential ruin as audiences stayed away, assured the public there was no risk of infection being spread around the auditorium.

He said: "There is an interval at the end of each performance, during which the building is thrown open and thoroughly disinfected."

Worthing victims included soldiers who had survived the Great War only to die of the virulent influenza, which claimed young and old alike.

They included Lance-Corporal William Blann, of the 12th Royal Sussex Regiment, who was a prisoner-of-war in Germany and died on October 29, 1918, just 13 days before the end of the war.

Private Frederick Duffield, of the Royal Army Medical Corps, died in France, leaving a widow and six children, who lived in Market Street.

A nurse by the name of May Frances James also succumbed, having contracted the illness from patients she was caring for.

Michael Foster, MP for Hastings, has got a bit of a cheek after his constituency featured prominently in a new guide book called Crap Towns: The 50 Worst Places To Live In The UK.

Happily, Worthing did not get a mention, until Mr Foster stuck his oar in by stating: "It seems they've chosen just about every big town in Sussex for criticism except Worthing, which is pretty awful itself."

His comments prompted a rebuke in The Argus from R Fernandez, of Dyke Road, Brighton, who wrote: "Worthing is one of the few decent South Coast towns left and it is surely disgraceful to deflect away criticism of Hastings in such a manner."

But Sentinel does have a word of warning. If we don't get a grip on the anti-social elements gradually gaining the upper hand in Worthing, then our fair town will, within the next decade, go down the drain just like Hastings.

Sentinel was delighted to see the promenade a cavalcade of greenery again as the giant potted date palms were removed from winter storage.

The seafront looks so luxuriant he was half expecting Wayne Sleep to jump out of the rainforest-style foliage and shout "I'm a celebrity - get me out of here."

With flags purchased last year by Sentinel readers flying as well, the seafront is looking as pretty as a picture.

Now all we need to do is drive out the tramps.

During a rare visit to Barney's cafe-bar in Portland Road, Sentinel thought the interior, liberally decorated with exotic purple drapes, resembled a Sultan's harem.

Talking of pubs, the Mulberry pub in Goring was looking a little tired so Sentinel was delighted to note it has been closed down for an extensive refit.

Many of us have been dazzled by the great swathes of vivid yellow rape seed scattered about the Sussex Downs but when Sentinel suggested to one Worthing landowner it looked quite attractive, he was firmly put in his place by this aged tiller of the soil, who stated it looked artificial and didn't particularly enhance the countryside.

Talking of colour, Worthing's boys in blue are now motoring around in silver police cars in a bid to catch the town's criminal fraternity.

Ferring has turned into quite a menagerie, if recent reports from the village are accurate.

Apparently, not only does it boast six types of bat, but also giant terrapins which have been dumped in local ponds.

Such is the abundance of all things creepy and crawlie that a stag beetle survey was recently conducted.

Sentinel received the following letter signed by "an employee of Worthing Hospital" which conjoured up a Carry On-style scene.

It reads: "I recently, along with others, decided to take advantage of the warm weather and soak up the sun, so I took my lunch and book to sit in Beach House Park for my break.

My restful lunch-hour was interrupted by water jets intermittently spraying the greens and soaking the seats surrounding them, causing people to play musical chairs to avoid a drenching, unaware of where the next jet would begin. Although I admit the greens need a drink, I feel between noon and 2pm is an unfriendly time to choose."

Election counts at the Assembly Hall used to be rather stirring affairs, with the air tinged with a sense of excitement and anticipation, sometimes fuelled by liberal (as opposed to conservative) amounts of alcoholic refreshments taken at the Wheatsheaf pub.

This occasionally led to lively scenes as the winners were announced but recent counts have proved somewhat lacklustre, perhaps reflecting public indifference.

Sentinel almost longs for the 1889 count held at Broadwater, when activists hurled herrings at one poor candidate by the name of HH Gardner who was trying to make himself heard on the platform.

A newspaper report of the day stated: "Most of the fish struck the beams of the building and dropped midway but several electors, including women, were struck in the face and on the head."

In 1890, when Worthing's first town council was elected, a councillor by the name of Tupper was carried shoulder-high into the street by supporters to a nearby lamp post and, from this somewhat precarious vantage point, he was able to give his thanks to those who had voted for him.

Last Thursday's count was interesting for a number of reasons: The Liberal Democrats lost overall control and the council is now hung, with the mayor having the casting vote; the town elected its first Muslim councillor, Jack Saheid; and Claire Potter, aged 24, became one of the youngest people to be elected since the borough was founded.

The Tories and the Liberal Democrats will now have to work together over the forthcoming year and let us all hope they put party politics to one side and do what is best for the town and not their self interests.

As a start, perhaps the Lib Dems could invite Tory Tim Dice to chair the seafront and greening the borough working party.

If Mr Saheid ever becomes mayor (and he would make a fine civic leader) presumably his "chaplain" will be the imam at the Worthing Islamic Cultural Centre.

The election of Miss Potter, who edits two Shoreham-based trade magazines, the Cast Metal Times and Die-Casting Times, was refreshing but at the age of 24 she may find the humdrum of town hall life a little stifling.

Her triumph was watched by fellow Liberal Democrat Chris Sargent who, in 1962, became the town's youngest councillor to date, aged 21, a record that is very unlikely to be beaten.

Sadly, only 28 per cent of the electorate voted so those who didn't cannot complain if they are not happy with council services in the forthcoming year.