There once was a ballroom in Dublin called the Macushla which was situated in a rough and ready part of the city. Sometimes I played there as a musician with a showband between 1960 and 1962. In the vicinity of this ballroom were 8 pubs or more. Dancing began usually at 8.30 P.M and ended at 12.00 P.M.. Around 9.00 P.M.  the  room filled up  with females who talked and danced with each other or sat around waiting, yes waiting. Who were they waiting for? They were apparently waiting for God's own Creation, Man, who usually poured in around 10 P.M. to 10.30 P.M. after the pubs closed. Most males usually had a few drinks( in the 8 pubs or more) to pluck up the courage to ask the girls up to dance.

The band had just finished a foxtrott when all of a sudden there was a bang and the doors to the dancing area were kicked open. Everyone automatically turned their heads to see what was going on. A man, brandishing a hatchet, began to make his way to the stage where I was sitting. Everyone scattered, including the band,  in all directions
while I sat there watching him coming towards me. I was paralysed at that moment  till I heard the alarm signal in my brain. I sprang from my drums and tripped over my high-hat and fell to the floor. Like a flash I was on my feet again and saw the door of the dressing  room before me. I was about to jump down the 5 steps to the dressing room when I stumbled over some cables and fell head over heels down the steps. I got to my feet and immediately looked for somewhere to hide. I found an alcove with a curtain which was used as a wardrobe. I groped my way behind the curtain and was frightened for my life. There was a commotion going on outside. Someone came down the steps into the dressing room  and pushed the curtain aside. I expected to be chopped up into little pieces, but to my amazement, a bouncer who I  casually  knew  was standing before me and asked, " Is everything Okay?" I said, "Yes, but where is the hatchet man?" The bouncers ha