TV listing nostalgia from the Daily Echo archives

Television, then a growing marvel, flickered only in shades of monochrome – a world away from the vibrant high-definition panorama we experience today. 

We would feel the palpable anticipation as the set warmed up. Those hefty television receivers, often grandly encased in imposing polished wooden cabinets that stood as furniture pieces in their own right, demanded a moment's patience. 

A faint glow, a gentle electronic hum, perhaps an expectant crackle, would precede the magic finally coalescing on the relatively small screen. 

Even programmes like the calming, almost meditative Potter’s Wheel became regular, hypnotic fixtures in living rooms across the region.

Emergency Ward 10 (Image: Echo)

Leafing through the television listings preserved within the Daily Echo from those decades reveals a landscape of entertainment perhaps less sophisticated, less frenetic than the multi-channel, on-demand universe we navigate now. 

Production values were different, and a significant number of series bravely went out live – lending an electrifying edge of unpredictability. A fluffed line, a momentarily hesitant actor, or a slightly wobbly piece of scenery wasn't a disaster, but often part of the shared, intimate charm. 

Yet, despite - or perhaps even because of - this relative simplicity, families were utterly captivated. 

Evenings revolved around gathering together, drawn into shared stories, laughter, and suspense emanating from that glowing box in the corner.

Energy that blasted into homes with The Billy Cotton Band Show! It was impossible not to feel invigorated by Billy Cotton's iconic, boisterous opening cry: “Wakey Wa-a-a-key!’’ 

It signalled the start of a weekly dose of vibrant music hall-style entertainment, featuring beloved performers like the smooth-voiced crooner Alan Breeze, the delightful singer Kathie Kay, and the man whose fingers danced across the piano keys, the irrepressible Russ Conway.

Roger Moore in Ivanhoe. (Image: Echo)

Drama held audiences firmly in its grip, none more so than Emergency Ward 10. This groundbreaking series, Britain’s very first twice-weekly hospital drama, became a national obsession. 

Running for a full decade from 1957 to 1967, it invited viewers into the intense world of Oxbridge Hospital.

Millions became deeply invested in the professional crises and personal lives of the staff, following the fortunes of characters like the dedicated Nurse Carole Browne, portrayed by Jill Browne, and the thoughtful Dr Chris Anderson, played by Desmond Carrington. 

It wasn't merely a television programme; it was a fixture, generating discussion and anticipation week after week.

The thrill of the chase and the steady hand of the law also proved immensely popular. 

Police series were absolute staples. For an incredible 21 years, until its final "Evening all" in 1976, the reassuring presence of Jack Warner as the quintessential, understanding British bobby in Dixon Of Dock Green defined the genre for many.

Dixon of Dock Green (Image: Echo)

For those seeking something a little grittier, there was the fact-based Fabian of Scotland Yard, chronicling the cases of a real-life detective. 

Launched in 1959, No Hiding Place delivered tense drama, starring the authoritative Raymond Francis, often alongside a young, pre-Coronation Street Johnny Briggs. 

And adding a touch of continental flair was the atmospheric, pipe-smoking French inspector Maigret, bringing Georges Simenon's famous creation compellingly to life.

The era also saw the dawn of the quiz and panel show formats that remain popular today. 

As early as 1952, the BBC introduced the intellectually stimulating Animal, Vegetable, Mineral?, where learned experts attempted to identify intriguing artefacts, often with charmingly erudite debates. 

This was followed by the more cerebral discussions of The Brains Trust. 

The Adventures of Robin Hood. (Image: Echo)

Later, the pace quickened with shows like Criss Cross Quiz, hosted by the suave Jeremy Hawk, which added a simple game element to general knowledge. 

Pure, unadulterated fun and the tantalising prospect of prizes came with Double Your Money, presided over for thirteen years by the legendary Hughie Green, memorably assisted by the ever-cheerful, chirpy cockney teenager, Monica Rose. 

Then there was the relentless questioning and rapid-fire delivery of Michael Miles, the front man of Take Your Pick? 

The tension was palpable during its infamous “Yes/No Interlude,” where contestants tried desperately to avoid those two simple words, egged on by the audience and the looming presence of Alec Dane, ready to strike the gong at the slightest slip-up. 

Music lovers tuned in religiously to Spot The Tune, presented initially by Marion Ryan and later by the versatile Ted Ray, which challenged contestants and viewers alike to name that melody, running for a remarkable 209 editions before its final note faded in 1962.

Laughter, of course, was always a welcome guest. 

Michael Bentine brought us The Bumbles (Image: Echo)

The old listings are peppered with comedy gold. 

The Army Game brought weekly doses of national service chaos and barrack-room shenanigans, its success built on a brilliant ensemble cast: Alfie Bass as the conniving Private Montague 'Bootsie' Bisley, Norman Rossington as the naive Private 'Cupcake' Cook, Harry Fowler as the long-suffering Corporal 'Flogger' Hoskins, and, towering over them all, the inimitable Bill Fraser bellowing his way through scenes as Company Sergeant Major Claude Snudge. 

Character-driven comedy shone brightly in The Larkins, providing the perfect showcase for the formidable talents of actress Peggy Mount. She embodied Ada, the bossy, battleaxe wife whose formidable presence completely dominated her perpetually hen-pecked husband Alf, played with wonderful subtlety by David Kossoff. 

And then there was the sheer, glorious anarchy of Whacko! Here, the larger-than-life “Professor’’ Jimmy Edwards, complete with his trademark handlebar moustache, took centre stage as the cane-thrashing, horse-betting, utterly disreputable headmaster of the decidedly non-academic Chiselbury School for the Sons of Gentlefolk.

Children's television from this era carved out its own magical space in viewers' hearts. Programmes featuring characters like Billy Bunter, the rotund Greyfriars schoolboy, were hugely popular, even if aspects of the portrayal would be viewed as startlingly politically incorrect through a modern lens. 

Over on the fledgling ITV network, ventriloquist Peter Brough and his sharp-suited, quick-witted dummy partner starred in Educating Archie. 

Crackerjack! (Image: Echo)

The wonderfully surreal imagination of Michael Bentine brought us The Bumblies, peculiar little alien rubber puppets who, defying all logic and gravity, preferred to sleep upside down on the ceiling!

But for sheer, unadulterated, anticipated excitement, nothing quite matched the arrival of Friday afternoon. Because from 1955 onwards, if it was Friday and the clock ticked around to 4.55 pm, it meant only one thing for legions of children rushing home from school - Crackerjack! 

"It's Friday, it's five to five... and it's Crackerjack!" – the call sign, first delivered by Eamon Andrews and later inherited by the dynamic duo of Leslie Crowther and Peter Glaze (often accompanied by the likes of Jillian Comber and Don Maclean), heralded pure, unscripted mayhem. 

The studio audience, and viewers at home, were treated to a whirlwind of jokes, songs, star guests, comedy sketches, and, most famously, the chaotic game 'Double or Drop'. 

Here, young contestants who answered questions correctly were progressively laden with an impossible armful of prizes, while incorrect answers earned them the booby prize – usually cabbages. 

Failure meant dropping the lot. And through it all, the ultimate status symbol, more desired than almost any other prize - the modest but iconic Crackerjack pencil.

The Army Game. (Image: Echo)

The spirit of adventure was never far away either. 

Young viewers eagerly followed the exploits of heroes like William Tell, joined the sawdust and spectacle of Circus Boy, travelled back to days of chivalry with Ivanhoe, and cheered for Richard Greene as the definitive The Adventures Of Robin Hood. Swashbuckling action arrived with Robert Shaw as the daring Dan Tempest in The Buccaneers. 

On a gentler note, the charming puppet world of Toytown brought characters like Larry the Lamb, Dennis the Dog, and the perpetually grumpy Mr Growser to life, while the simple, illustrated newspaper stories by 'Tim' featuring Bengo The Boxer Pup offered quiet, heartwarming charm.

Television in the 1950s and 60s, though technologically nascent compared to today, possessed a unique and potent magic. It had a powerful ability to create shared experiences, uniting families and communities. These programmes, lodged firmly in the fond memories of our older readers who grew up watching them flicker across those early screens, weren't just fleeting distractions. They were companions, catalysts for playground chatter, and significant cultural touchstones in an era of rapid post-war change.