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Memories of Days Gone By
MEMORIES
MEMORIES FROM PETER BRIGG (KS 1952-60)
Sorting through a box of old photos I came across these two. I thought they might be of interest to the school archivist.
The first was taken on the opening day of the new chemistry lab sometime in the late 1950s, but I'm afraid I don't know the exact date. The names (from left to right) are: Meadley, Andy Ganf,
Frost, Keyser, Hickman, Rodney
Ellis, E.A. Ellis (Eric?), Peter Brigg, Timothy Noyce and Hoare. I'm afraid I can't remember all their Christian names because in those days we usually addressed one another by our surnames.
The second photo is of the Upper House prefects in June 1959. Names left to right (Standing) Simon surname unknown,
Andrew Lamb, Bruce Parkes,
Martin Rupp; (Seated) Peter
Brigg, John Wright, Edward Noyce, Timothy Monahan, Sean
Monahan and Michael Bennett (Head of House).
With best regards, Peter Brigg
Photo of Miss Paver, my mum (Mary Brown) and Mrs Sergeant at Green Park in 2017.
Mrs Sergeant was my absolute favourite teacher, she was a brilliant Housemistress and I'm so grateful for all the support she gave me throughout my time at Kingswood.
MEMORIES FROM JESS BROWN (KS 2003-17)
MEMORIES FROM GEOFFREY BARRACLOUGH, (KS 1943-48)
Once again, receipt of “Kingswood Association News”, has prompted and reminded one of past times at KS For myself, these memories start in 1943, at Uppingham.
Each term a group assembled on Derby Station, O.J. lowis, J.C. Britten, J.P. Ross and myself for a train to Trent, and thence to Manton, where the train was stopped specially for boys of both schools to ‘alight’. We jumped from the train to the gravel below to run for a taxi to Uppingham. The taxis did a few shuttles at 2/6 per boy (12.5p). Most boys arrived by the school special to Seaton, - a line Beeching closed long ago.
We were boarded in Uppingham school houses, in spare dormitories, old houses left vacant for the war, and spare rooms in staff houses. Robert Trump’s house had gas lighting, but a connecting door on the first floor led through to Dr Stead’s home with electric light. My first ”dormitory” with three others was at “The Hall” in Matron’s spare bedroom, just across the road.
An abiding memory is of the miles we walked, no two school activities were in the same place. We walked from one end of the town to the other for breakfast in the school gym, then to the School Hall or Chapel, then to class rooms, labs, or Library in another old school house, (at the top of this old school house was a dormitory converted to a Chemistry class room). Then back to the gym for lunch, perhaps back to houses to change for games, then back to class rooms for the 4.30pm - 6.00pm afternoon school. Then back to the Gym for evening meal - and finally back to houses for Prep and perhaps another walk to the dormitory houses! A treat was the carrier-box taken by a duty ‘boy’ from the gym containing bread and cheese for a light supper!
When I read of critical comments about the quality of food at Bath, I have to say I don’t recall moans about food at Uppingham. One early memory is as a new boy at lunch asking Mr Mangham whether we had white stew often? The reply, with a sardonic smile, was “I’m afraid so”! But always porridge and a cooked breakfast, hot lunch and something savoury at 6.00pm. When kippers were served, ‘Bill’ Roche would select the prospective surgeons! Oh, and vitamin C tablets at Sunday breakfast. Service at table was by a few maids evacuated from Bath, and a handful of volunteer sixth formers.
Did we feel deprived? No mobile phones, no land-lines, no internet, no TV, no wireless, no street lights, no girls of course, how did we survive?! Occasionally, at half term the local cinema put on a special matinee performance for KS I recall a showing of “Colonel Blimp”, and of course A.B. Sackett unfailingly chose fine days for a “Whole Holiday” twice a term.
On reflection, how grateful we should have been to all staff, evacuated from Bath and living in very constrained rooms, houses and lodgings. Just one example: Bill King the senior groundsman with a home at the lodge by the school gates at Bath, transferred to rooms at the local Inn, and cycled around Uppingham daily to clean boys’ shoes!
All these memories were partly prompted by the appeal for the “Kingswood 10 for 1 Bursary Fund”. I wondered how the fees for KS have changed over the years? In 1943 fees were £35 per term – and ministers’ sons paid £9, with a subsidy from Conference of course. Shortly after the war they “shot up” to £60 per term and I recall my Father telling me that I had to pass H.S.C. because he couldn’t afford to keep me at KS any longer! How things have changed!
MEMORIES FROM JOHN WALSH (KS 1956-62) INCLUDES PRIOR’S COURT 1956-59
It gives me an opportunity to write to you on something I have been reflecting on regarding the content of the magazine you sent me. (did I hear a groan :-) ?)
It is always good to see how the school has progressed since my time there, which of course started from being quite an austere place of education to one of up to date and modern thinking. I felt however that there was just a little something missing from the magazine, but I couldn't immediately put my finger on it, but now I think I have.
Although a serious place of education, there were many times when one experienced situations of humour, some of it gut wrenching to some bringing just a gentle smile and I was wondering that out there, not only from old stagers like me, there is an untapped wealth of comedy which could help lighten the pages of the magazine. The stories could be delivered en bloc in a page section of its own, or interspersed between pages of the information as to who is doing what and where etc. Having been in sales and marketing for some 45 years, I would prefer the latter simply because when one is negotiating a deal that is sometimes boring in detail, if you can 'crack a funny' it keeps people interested and on board and have a good laugh, to boot - and hopefully seal the deal.
Just to demonstrate the sort of thing I am talking about, I would like to relate a couple of stories, one of which I witnessed and one of which I had personal experience of... STORY 1
1. Witnessed: Certain elements are a little dim (time takes its toll) but bear with me.
2. Place: Main dining hall at breakfast time 3. House on duty: Either Hall or School. 4. Date: 1960, I think, as I was in the lower fifth. 5. Setting the scene: It was customary for the house on duty to deliver meals to the tables in the dining hall. This was invariably done from a very heavy industrial 3 deck (or 4 deck trolley?) containing the food.
The trolly, from memory, was mobilised by one person pushing from behind and another one pulling and steering from the front. As it took a little while to get from the door to the stage, delivering food on the way, it was sometimes decided to start delivery at the stage end and work back down the hall to the entrance door. Sometimes one of the boys sitting at the end of a table would reach across as the trolley passed and take the food for his table before he should. In order to counter this misdemeanour, the operatives of the trolly would increase the speed of their passage. So far, so good.
6. The event: On this one day, the trolley was fully laden with some 18 or so large bowls of KS super rich lumpy concrete porridge and delivery was to start at the stage end of the dining hall. This called for maximum thrust on the trolly starting from the door. Maximum running speed was attained approximately half way down the hall where one had to employ a counter shove (no brakes) in order to stop the trolley before it hit the stage. Sadly..snigger, snigger... the boy who was steering the trolly slipped and fell, pushing it to one side in order not to be flattened. The end result was inevitable.
The heavy trolley veered off line and struck the corner of one of the heavy refectory tables, causing a knock on to two others. The trolly stopped, but, er, the porridge did not. 18 bowls of semi liquid sludge catapulted forward covering quite a large number of boys in a sticky lumpy mass of goo. The whole dining room erupted, many boys standing on tables to get a better view of the mayhem. Then the rescue attempt started. Out came the kitchen staff with brooms and using them like snow shovels attempted to re-house the sludge in makeshift containers, but the drama was not yet over. One boy who had just delivered the usual note to the top table, came down the steps of the stage and attempted to jump over the mess.
Bad move! He didn't make it and ended up doing a most graceful impression of several pirouettes and arm waving that even Robin
Cousins (Olympic ice skater) would have been proud of, before landing flat on his face.
STORY 2
1. Personal involvement: Sports day on the
Upper fields summer 1960 attended by families in order to witness our sporting prowess......! 2. A bit of background info: I was 14 and unlike some of my peers had not yet reached maturity. I was classed as a 'late developer' and not in need of what was termed a 'Jock Strap.' Anyway, I would have been too embarrassed to have gone to the matron to ask for one.
The fashion in those days was to wear very short sports shorts with which I had no problem. I wanted to look 'cool' anyway. One of the disciplines I had chosen was the long jump. Even to this day I cannot think why I did this, I could hardly jump out of bed let alone fly through the air for more than a couple of feet.
3. Anyway, I took up my stance at the end of the runway and looked at all the mums and dads (and daughters) that were lining either side as far as the sand pit. Rocking backwards and forwards, to impress them with my professionalism of my start, I launched myself towards the horizon.
Halfway down the runway I was aware that people were laughing at me and pointing. One mother even covered her daughter's eyes as I flew past. What the hell had gone wrong? I hit the board and landed in the sand. Turning over I saw that my shorts had ridden up and all my 'bits' were airing themselves for everyone to see. At least I was getting applause. I could have died there and then, but there was no hole to swallow me up.
However I did recover and the next day went to see the matron, to hell with my embarrassment. The ribbing however went on for quite sometime after though.
These are both true recollections and I am sure that there is a wealth of funny instances which are told by both past and present pupils to their families and friends but never see the light of day elsewhere. We all need a bit of humour nowadays. MEMORIES FROM PETER ANDERSON (PREVIOUSLY SIDEBOTTOM) (KS 1950-57)
As the years go by a section of the annual news of interest to us oldies is Obituaries. The latest edition reported the death of Trevor Bell which saddened me as we were very close friends in the early years of our time together in Hall House. However it also brought back happy memories of shared moments and one of my fondest was the occasion of the Queen’s coronation.
Those boys whose parents were the proud owners of the latest ‘must have‘ viz. A black and white TV were allowed to go home to watch the coronation. Trevor very kindly invited me to join him on a visit to his home in Midsomer Norton for the occasion. On the morning of 2 June 1953 Trevor’s dad came into our shared room to show us the front page of The News Chronicle and draw our attention to a large photo of the crowds along The Mall huddling under umbrellas in the pouring rain. Neither of us paid it much attention as we focused on the banner headline reporting the conquest of Everest! Maybe that is what attracted me to the idea of climbing in the Himalayas, which I finally achieved at age 56, reaching 19,000+ ft on one of the lesser peaks in the Khumbu region.
Trevor and I spent less time together in our later years at KS as I became preoccupied with rugby and athletics, but when I retired to the West Country it was always my intention to look him up. Sadly I never did.
Mentioning rugby, the Obituaries which report the death of Roger Hailwood also brought back memories for me of a famous match when we played together in the 1st XV against Blundell’s. Effectively the winning team could claim bragging rights as the West Country Schools Champions as it was the last match of the season in which we were both unbeaten. Blundell’s had the advantage as their captain and fly half was the brilliant Richard Sharp who went on to play for England and had to be kept in check. Late in the game Roger and I combined to score the only try of the match and give us a slender lead of 8-6. Alas, in the dying seconds, Blundell’s were awarded a scrum under our posts from which Sharp dropped a goal to win the match. My only consolation was to get a mention as “the terrier of the pack“ in The Times report on the match.
Happy days.
MEMORIES FROM ROBERT BARNARD (KS 1933-41)
In my previous letter I wrote about my memories of my time at Westwood. I moved to the Senior School in 1937. All boarders were housed in the same building and each house had its own dormitory. My house was School House. All houses would eat meals together in The Moulton Hall. As well as enjoying the sports and singing in the choir, I was also school chess champion for two years. Mr Roche ran the chess club and we had matches with the Worcester School for the blind which involved each move being played by exchanging weekly letters.
I also remember the welcome noise of the school bells ringing out twice each term which would signify that the day would be a holiday. These were days chosen at random (when the weather would be good), where all pupils could go where they wanted (within reason) provided they let the school know where they were going and that you returned by early evening. We could go off and hire boats to row along the River Avon and take camping stoves to cook ourselves a meal at lunch. At the start of September 1939, as I was about to start a new year at school, I recall that my father was giving a sermon in Scotland when it was interrupted by someone who announced that war had been declared with Germany. We swiftly headed south to get back to Bristol, where we were living at the time, but the journey took longer than usual as we got held up by military convoys on the way. When we got back to Bristol, we were informed that we would not be able to return to school at Bath that term and instead we would be relocated to Uppingham in Rutlandshire. The Navy had taken over the school buildings in Bath. I had to get a train from London to a small station a few miles by bus from Uppingham.
I was allocated a study with 3 other boys on the first floor of Lorne House with the ground floor used by Uppingham pupils. I had lessons in a hotel in the village and I and 5 other pupils from Kingswood slept upstairs in the house of one of the masters (Mr Ruddick). I was head of the dormitory for a while. It was a long walk from there to the school gymnasium for breakfast where we ate separately from the Uppingham pupils. We played sports matches against local schools but not against Uppingham. We were very fortunate that Uppingham agreed to allow us to share their facilities at short notice; their headmaster at the time I was there was John Wolfenden (later Lord Wolfenden). The sharing arrangement with Uppingham went on for 7 years.
One vivid memory I have of my time at Uppingham was one evening when I was walking up the high street to the gymnasium to eat when I heard planes flying overhead. I read the next day about the bombing of Coventry that caused a great deal of devastation (including to the cathedral which was eventually rebuilt). I believe that the planes I heard where the German planes on the way to Coventry.
I loved my time at Kingswood and have many happy memories. I have one memory which I can laugh at now, but which upset me at the time. I remember a teacher who did not approve of a well-known Philanthropist called Andrew Carnegie who had made his fortune in the USA, but originally was from Dunfermline in Scotland where I had spent a number of years growing up. I felt that I should stand up for him and I bravely spoke up in his defence. However, I do not think that the teacher appreciated me expressing an alternative opinion on this matter and in my end of term report he wrote simply ‘Fidgety’.
In my last year of school, I decided that I wanted to pursue a medical career and I remember going to Guy’s Hospital near London Bridge to sit an exam in Arts and I took the Greek and Latin paper. I passed and got a scholarship to Guy’s Hospital which eventually led to a long career practising as a GP in Hampshire.
