How do you start to describe a period of your life that would in the future become part of a 'Tragic Story'. It is especially hard to think about events thirty years on, when until only very recently you have not had any contact with the people who played a large part in the life of Pete Ham.

I first came into contact with Pete Ham when I was the road manager of The Kinks in 1966. At that time, The Kinks managers, Robert Wace and Grenville Collins, were also managing a singer called David Garrick, who was backed by a group called The Iveys.

Robert Wace asked me if it was possible to get a PA system for the group from Vox. At that time, most major pop groups were given guitar and PA amplifiers for promotion and publicity purposes by Vox. I managed to obtain a PA system from Vox by saying that The Kinks required an additional system because of the amount of gigs they were doing and then passed this over to The Iveys' manager Bill Collins.

At the time, I had been living in London for just over six months and had only just started with The Kinks, having just left a previous group who had a four-bedroomed flat on Finchley Road. I was living at The Eagle Hotel in Paddington. When I handed over the PA system to Bill Collins, we got talking about where I lived and I mentioned about the hotel. Bill Collins said that there was a room going in the house and would I be interested in living there. Bill had already spoken to the members of the group and they had already agreed, so my involvement in the life of Pete Ham began in a small bedroom at 7, Park Avenue, Golders Green, telephone number London Speedwell 7487 (01-745-7487). Funny how you can remember telephone numbers from the past.

Pete Ham lived for music, twenty-four hours a day. The small studio that Bill Collins had built in one of the downstairs rooms was where he spent his every waking moment. He just loved playing, singing and writing. The studio, which was without any form of air extraction, was like a sauna, It reeked of tobacco, sweat and many other smells. He just couldn't spend enough time in there. It was where he spent his songwriting apprenticeship. As you can imagine, there was a lot of noise and a great many complaints from the neighbours.

Thinking of Pete opens the floodgates of memories from the distant past. Memories of how he loved Star Trek; of painting a large mural on one wall of his bedroom; of the time spent in the launderette in Golders Green; of lying in a film-prop coffin of The Kinks in the living room to scare the other members of the group when they came into the room; remembering him buying a real bristle hairbrush to blow-dry his hair in the pop star style; of how the hair drier was purchased with Green Shield Stamps, of which I contributed about half and hardly ever got to use because by now The Iveys were now the increasingly famous Badfinger and were away more than at 7, Park Avenue. With myself being the only one really able to cook, I remember us pooling our money together and buying joints of meat and vegetables and enjoying a good meal. I remember when Badfinger got their Mercedes van and all the new equipment, including the then state of art WEM PA system. I never did get the Vox PA system back. The memories go on and on.

In fact the memories of many people are contained in a book 'Without You, The Tragic Story of Badfinger' by Dan Matovina.

I learned of Pete Ham's death by reading about it in The Melody Maker when I was living in Stockton-on-Tees and for the next few days had more than a tear in my eye.

Pete Ham was a gentle person with a quiet manner; who believed in honesty, friendship and trust and who, a few short years later, tragically took his life because people didn't uphold these principles.

This exhibition will bring many people together who were part of this tragic story and which will allow the people of Swansea to share in the many memories, both happy and sad, and reflect on the life of Pete Ham.