Word: clacton
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Like Sea Slugs. The battle had been shaping up since Easter, when more than 1,000 members of Britain's rival teen cults threw a wild weekend punch-up at seaside Clacton. This time, some 3,000 "Mods" and "Rockers" flocked to Margate and Brighton, the Mods (for modern) spiffed up in drainpipe trousers and pastel shirts, the Rockers encased in black leather jackets and cowboy boots. At each resort the Mods, who ride scooters and call their girls "birds," pitched camp at one end of the beach. The Rockers, who care more for their motorcycles than their birds...
Where to go for a giggle? In the teen joints of Soho, the word went out: make it Clacton. Like a flock of noisy starlings, more than 1,000 youths buzzed into the dismal North Sea resort for Britain's four-day Easter holiday. The weather was foul-and so, Clactonians decided, were their visitors. Most of the invaders "slept rough" on the beach, warmed only by their "birds" (girl friends) and quantities of "purple hearts" (goofballs). Inevitably, the giggling had to stop, for Clacton's invaders belonged to London's two hostile teen cults: the "Mods...
Roving mobs of cold, bored teenagers swarmed over Clacton's pier, smashing windows, overturning cars, stealing liquor. Pistol in hand, one youth used a big storefront window for target practice. When a local type admonished the rioters, he was tossed over a 20-ft. bridge. Clacton police called for reinforcements from a neighboring town, fought pitched battles with the teenagers, many of whom were armed with ax handles and furniture legs. Finally the bobbies restored order: over 60 youths were arrested on charges ranging from burglary to assault...
Wild Ones. The Clacton riot climaxed a longtime rivalry between the sartorially splendid Mods and the hot-rodding Rockers. One British sociologist claims that their hostility is based on class. The Mods are artisans and office workers, he claims, and look down on the Rockers, who tend to be scruffy worker types. As a London Mod explains the feud, "The Rockers are just interested in their cycles. This isolates them. Mods are more aware, fast moving, hip. With us, it's like a club. If you wear the right clothes, you're accepted...
...only one point were the delegates nearly unanimous. Careful reporters noted that 41 of them tripped over the coconut mat as they entered Clacton's garish, modernistic Oulton Hall. The 42nd, stepping carefully, was Britain's Socialist Chancellor of the Exchequer, Hugh Dalton, who presided over the first of the secret sessions...