Stand
Grammar School
Church
Lane, Whitefield, Manchester |
|
Contributions
from Old Standians
This
term's Star letters... |
Martyn,
A great website. I was at Stand during the war
from 1941-47. My elder brother was there from 1938-42, but my father Eric,
better known as ' Ernie' Hanson was on the staff from 1921 to 1965. He would
have loved the web site for he remembered every name right back to the 1920's;
indeed in his last years at Stand he found that he was teaching the
grandchildren of his early pupils. When I started in 1941 the Headmaster was
Dennis Norwood, who was only seen by miserable little third formers at morning
assembly or for punishment. He was succeeded by Medlar who never had the same
presence and unfortunately, seemed to be repeatably struck by an almost
biblical plague of boils. Frank Hepworth was senior master and obviously
couldn't stand the sight of boys and so he conducted his classes in English
with his eyes tightly shut. I always thought that we could have quietly left
and he would never have known. In room 7 was Harry Clarke or 'Old man' Clarke
who always loomed behind you while you waited for the inevitable blow to the
back of the head. 'Gussy' Joynson taught physics and was not unlike Heinrich
Himmler in appearance. Alf Housley took chemistry and was a very good badminton
player despite having only one leg. During the war when staff and senior boys
stayed the night on firewatching duty in case of incendiary bombs, Alf used to
hang up his leg still in his trousers when retiring to his camp bed. Bill
Evans, who had been blown up in the trenches during the first world war still
carried various pieces of German metal in his innards and was left rather short
tempered, any slacker was progressively hit on the top of his head by an
extremely hard projecting knuckle until he reached the floor. Only when he had
grown sufficiently to be taller than him would one be offered a Woodbine and a
friendly word. Gasquet taught French and had an assorted collection of clubs in
his desk and should someone displease him (not a difficult thing to do) , first
of all his head would be examined, then various implements would be laid out in
display and finally, having re-checked the head he would select the most
suitable and advance on the boy. His favorite weapon was the metal spine from a
desk lid with a hinged end which revolved as he advanced. You were never hit
very hard and sometimes when boys finally left school they would present him
with an even more fearsome addition to add to his collection.
I saw on your web that John Horrock of Ontario
remembered two female teachers, I remember Mrs Glazebrook, Mrs Hughes, and
particularly Miss Moore for so called Physical Education. She was small, very
thin and sunburnt, and no one was allowed to challenge her. She placed relay
race sticks under the wall bars around the gym so that wherever she happened to
be she could quickly deliver a sharp blow. This would regularly occur when we
all had to lie on our backs on the floor for exercises which inevitably led to
resounding farts coming from various areas to be followed by sharp cries of
pain. It was no coincidence that those who suffered most were the ones who
stayed for school dinners. We all thought things would improve when she left
and an Egyptian, Silem Said took over, only to find that gym now consisted of
going outside in all weathers to run round and round the field and playground
for half an hour.
Who remembers Mr Levy, who taught Latin with a
short temper? - almost as short as my Latin memory. Mr Hawley who taught
Spanish and History and who's main story was how he crossed the Andes on a
donkey. Duggie Williams who wielded a large T square in the Art room and went
on to lecture at the Bangor Normal College being replaced by Alan Smith.
Someone has already mentioned Joe Ogden and his time in the asylum, but I
recall him telling us that he at least had a certificate to say he was sane,
while we had no such thing! Mind you his sanity was sorely tried for I
remember we removed all the screws from his chair and replaced them with black
thread, having kept him in conversation from entering the room he suddenly
disappeared from behind his desk and descended to the floor with a almighty
crash. On another occasion electric buzzers from the ATC (Air Training Corps)
were fixed under various desks and as the lesson progressed a buzzer would
sound in one area to be replaced by one at the other side of the room - he
never mentioned it, nor located them, and finally we got tired of buzzing.
My father would never hit a boy, instead he
would walk up to the cause of his displeasure, curl one finger around his
forelock - we all had hair then, turn round with his hand behind him and simply
walk back to the front of the class leaving the hapless boy to totter behind in
a crouching position, he was then left to kneel on the front edge of the
platform - rather painful as I well remember! After the end of the war a
master arrived who was never to have discipline problems. He was 6' 4"
tall, extremely well built, and to add to this he carried half a pound of lead
shot in the end of his gown sleeve. Any performance or behaviour which upset
him and he would swing his arm and the weighted sleeve would prescribe a
graceful arc to be caught in mid flow and continue in a controlled curve to
connect with the offenders' head.
Other staff include Joe Whitworth who took us
Youth Hostelling during the war when all food was rationed, and so you had to
carry all your food for the week, this lead to everyone eating enormous amounts
after the first day to lighten the load. W. P. Birch who in the early
days was called 'Waste Paper Basket'. 'Sap" Hamer who was scoutmasterand
still had to be called Sir even at scout
camp. Finally, reference Mike Hages' letter
- ,A Trip to the Dentist', I made a fairly recent trip to Whitefield and was
equally surprised to see that 'Chippy Dicks' chip shop had gone, and that my
old local the Junction Inn was now a Indian restaurant. The landlord and last
Hangman was of course Harry Allen and not Albert Pierrepoint. He kept the
Oldham pub - 'Help The Poor Struggler', and had a notice in his bar saying 'No
Hanging Around The Bar'. I spent a day with Albert in the late 1970's when I
needed some accurate information on hanging - but that's another story.
Best Wishes,
Ian Hanson.
Martyn,
I was at Stand from 1960 to 1963. Do you have
any idea of what happened to the Clive of India plaque that used to be in the
Hall on the right near the stage? I seem to remember spending 3 years stood
near to that.
Thanks for printing the picture of (Haggis!) Mr
Hargreaves. I remember him for;
(a) terrifying me into learning how to whiten a pair of muddy pumps after cross
country through Phillips Park,
(b) the pleasure of dubbining every football in the store room when unable to
take PE after a knee op.
(c) having the wit to put on my school report, "Trying!"
Regards
David Rattee
Hi Martyn,
My name is Julian Ernst and I attended SGS from
75-80. I am from Prestwich, but now live in Helmshore, Rossendale.
I recall my first day at SGS being greeted by
black cloaked & mortar board clad masters such as Tabs Hunter, The Beak,
Broadbent (maths I think), Jasper Swift and of all people Freddie
Mercury. I was absolutely petrified by all the black attire.
I recently bumped into teacher Haggis in
Helmshore whilst he was out walking his dog. He has not changed one
bit! Full credit must go to him for remembering my name and even the
nicknames he gave me such as Toblerone, Matterhorn etc, based upon the fact
that my dad is from Switzerland. The funny thing is, I still called him
"sir" throughout the whole conversation.
I am still friendly with some of the lads from
school and we still get together (Karl Evans, Ivan Elllison, Steve Crouch,
Dodge, Nick Mullen, Kirky, Andy Owen & China). China was a year below
me, but lived in Prestwich too. I remember one day I threatened China
over something and The Beak overheard the fracas that ensued. He came
over and enquired as to what was going on. China said that I was going to
beat him up at break time. The Beak asked - "Well, what exactly did
Ernst say to you, Hardman?". China's reply was "He said he was
going to fucking twat me sir!" China & I both burst out laughing
and I think we both got slippered for that.
Other things I remember:
Paddy McCaff and the press ups on the tennis
courts.
Hairy's Pond.
The 6ft deep hole, dug by Andy Robinson and crew.
Pushing and shoving in the queue for the canteen.
Getting arrested by security staff at Chester Zoo for throwing crisp packets
full of water form a bridge at unsuspecting people on that pleasure boat ride
on the little canal that surrounds the zoo.
Peter Bull (Spanish teacher) not being able to speak or understand Spanish on
our trip to Lloret de Mar.
Singing "We're going to wreck Lloret" on the coach from the airport
to the hotel and getting rollocked for it by a little fat teacher who's name I
can't remember.
Sharing a hotel room with Steve Crouch & Dave Barlow and Dave and I being
seriously uncomfortable with Crouch's pink pyjamas.
Nicking sweets from the kiosk at Whitefield Bus Station and being lined up in
the hall for an identity parade by the owners of the kiosk. Us regular
thieves got away with it, because we had been nicking there for months and the
owner claimed that because she recognised us, then it couldn't posssibly have
been us. Instead, Ian Hughes got nabbed for it. He had only been
there that day for the first time and wouldn't dream of doing anything like
that. I wonder where Hughey Hughes is these days.
I will think of some more stories and check in
with you again.
Great site Martyn. Keep up the good work
laddie!
Please list my email address
julian@ernst.freeserve.co.uk
Cheers
Julian Ernst
Martyn, I have just read with interest and
emotion many of the letters on your web site,but not many from my time there.
I left to become an articled clerk to chartered
accountants in m/c and qualified in 1960 and was in my own practice until 1994
when I retired I remember many of my contempories and keep in contact
with some to this day -Joe Rich MBE dentist, Les Jacobs fca, acct Harold Falk
fca acct, David Rose surgeon, Eric Marks dentist and Nev (nipper) Marks
doctor -- we didn't do too bad in spite of what we were sometimes told we would
come to!!
I remember Ivor Jones (woodwork) telling
me to leave his wood alone and bring in my comics instead -I never did anything
practical since. PBH always gave me a hard time - I suppose I was a lazy bugger
but we fought honourable draws -I wonder if he remembers? Goofy Hunter was a
star, a smashing man what happened to him? Also Les Lumley (physics ) who was
always professional, Eric Moore who wielded his power through a steel ruler,
maybe he did some good, Joe Whit in my first year, and Ernie Hanson , Fritz
Forian (french) and of course Shiner Lee (chemistry) who we all loved -a nice
man who we gave little chance to. Oh boy we were difficult kids at
times. Sammy Medlar was our excellent headmaster, who made one of the
most telling phrases I ever heard – “Don't leave your studies for the lure of
some small change, boys, stay on and you will hear the rustle of notes” - I
salute him.
I remember with great affection most of my time
at STAND and more than 40 years on the old tune is still remembered - if PBH is
still around tell him I’m sorry for treading on his foot when he sneaked up on
me outside 5H classroom , but I enjoyed the moment and I forgive him all the
bad times he gave us - I gather he has mellowed.
Kind regards - Phil Laddin
PS are these teachers still alive? Do you have
contact with them? Belatedly, I could say thanks.
Hi Martyn
Without my really knowing why I did this, I
typed 'Stand Grammar School' into my search-engine this afternoon, and found
your web-site. I was at Stand from 1963 to 1966, and will probably be
remembered, if at all, as a stalwart of the cross-country team. I was delighted
to find messages on the site from two of my old cross-country mates, Alan
McGilvray and Brian Heywood. I have many fond memories of those epic
encounters with Chadderton GS et al, and, of course, Mr Frith and the famous
'Green Flash'. My cross-country career continued at Cardiff
University, and ended when I graduated from the Welsh National School of
Medicine, as it then was, in 1971. I remember meeting Jasper Kirkby, who was
running for Imperial College, at the Hyde Park Relay, either in 1967 or 1968.
I've not seen anyone else from the School since I left, except Lawrence
McGinty. I saw him on the telly, and I meant to try and contact him, but I
never did. He used to write for the New Scientist, and then became
Science Reporter for ITN News. I did contact Terry Bloomberg a few years
ago, and heard back from him. He is a radiologist in Guildford.
I married Gwyneth, whom I met at Cardiff
University, and we have 3 children. After graduating, I worked for a number of
years in South Wales, and in Port-of-Spain, Trinidad; then in Oxford, and for 4
years at the Christie Hospital in Manchester. In 1986 we moved to Canada,
and for the last 10 years, I have been Head of Radiation Oncology at CancerCare
Manitoba in Winnipeg, and Associate Professor of Radiology at the University of
Manitoba.
To the teachers who instructed and encouraged me
during the embryonic years of my medical career in the 6th form at Stand, I owe
a great debt of gratitude, especially to Mr W.P Burch ( "Willy
P" ), and to Mr Brien Crossfield, whom I was delighted to see featured on
the site. I don't remember him having a nickname, and this was rather
unusual, I think, distinguished even.
At Stand, I also enjoyed singing in the choir,
and I remain very appreciative of the excellent choral training I received from
Mr Jack Longstaffe, who did not intimidate me nearly as much as he did some of
the unfortunate younger boys. I am still very actively involved in
several choirs, including the North American Welsh Choir, with whom I toured
Wales last year.
My younger brother, Roy, was at Stand from 1963
to 1967, and he died tragically in 1978, at the age of 26. He was a talented
poet, and had he lived longer, you might have heard more of him.
Keith Davies Jones
( "Taffy" )
Martyn,
After reading more of the letters I remembered
some of the trips we did during my residence at Stand.
Joe Whit took us one day to Ripon
Abbey/Minster/Cathedral as an end of year day out. He really did know his
architecture. 'Remember boys to bring sandwiches'.
We also went, Easter 1966 (I know that as Pretty
Flamingo was No. 1 in the charts), to the Lake District on a field study course
with various masters. This included Miss Tiffin & Mr Fletcher who used to
go off for long walks together....hmmmmm... I wonder why? There were three
types of walks you could go on. Easy, Medium and Mount Everest. I seem to
remember going on mostly the easy ones. I must confess doing a lot of laughing
on that trip and also being thrown out of one of the indoor classes for having
a farting contest with Chris Jolly (CMJ).
We had gone out one evening into Windermere when
we encountered a gang of the local cognocentii:
'Are you laughin' at my mate?' one
said.
CMJ 'If you're a
mate of his you're a bloody funny breed!'
How we got away without a good bashing I
don't recall but it was an excellent put down.
I managed two trips abroad with the
school, both to Switzerland. The first, 1965, was by rail from Manchester
Central to St. Pancras, Victoria to Dover then SeaLink to Boulogne then steam
hauled across France to Paris Gard du Nord and on the Switzerland. We
eventually made it to Kandersteg and then onto, I think, Montreaux. The
highlight of the trip being 'Spud' Woods throwing up after drinking too many
schnapps!!! How we got back I don't remember except the last leg was from
Euston to Manchester London Road/Piccadilly. The second trip was in 1966 and we
visited Lugano and somewhere else eventually ending up in Basle for a flight
home. The day in Basle was the day of the world cup final. I forget who won
(hee hee). We flew back to Manston Airport on a Middle East Airlines Comet 4B
with another school party from Yorkshire, I believe. Once off the plane two
coaches were waiting to take us home. One coach was new and plush the other was
an old Bedford. Guess which one we got. I never returned to Switzerland until
last year when I think the border guards had forgotten about SGS.
The photo taken by Mike Gibson states on
the back 'McDonald on the chair lift from Stock - Sunnbuhl 1965'. (See
below, alongside the other photo).
Who remembers the spring near the bottom of the
field next to the railings? There was a tree overhanging the spring itself with
a rope attached. The usual trick was to grab hold, leap out and swing round.
This day John Plaice did just this but the rope snapped and he landed in the
middle of the mud patch!!! Oh my aching sides!!!
And now 'Laugh along an Eddie' - real life
adventures with your favourite master.
In 1967 I broke my arm and had it in plaster
from my wrist to my shoulder. Because of this I couldn't wear my blazer. The
headmaster had given me permission to wear a cardigan that had pockets in so I
could carry pens etc.. Well Eddie saw me.
'Why are you incorrectly dressed boy? he
delicately enquired, 'That's not school uniform!'
'Well sir, in case you hadn't noticed I've broken my arm and I can't get my
jacket on.' I replied,
Pause... 'That's no excuse!',
'I'm sorry sir but the headmaster thinks it is!!'.
In the 6th form we had various free periods.
This day a group of us were stood on the balcony above the stage generally
enjoyed a good chin wag when our favourite master hove into view from the staff
room.
'Why are you boys standing chatting there?
Haven't you got lessons to go to?' he blustered.
'I'm not sure sir.' we replied (note emphasis on the 'lied').
Meanwhile at the other end of the balcony,
where the 6th form lockers were located stood, I think, 'Fred' Freedman.
'Freeeeeed, come here' we bellowed just to
upset EH.
Now Fred was not slow at catching on so he
strolled, at school regulation pace, around the balcony.
'Fred should we be in a lesson now?'
'Oh, don't know, hang on a minute I'll go and look'
Fred strolled back to his locker and looked
inside. He closed the door and strolled back.
'Nope' he replied.
Eddie was fuming knowing we had taken the pi*s
out of him and there was nothing he could do!!!
Well can't sit here enjoying myself.
Nostalgia, it's not what it used to be.
Regards
Ian McDonald
1C, 2A, 3E, 4M, 5E, 6M & 7M (1962-69)
Ian,
Thanks for the picture. That was a good day - I
think I must have peaked early - hence no chance of astronomer royal - closest
I get is a trip to the observatory! I enjoyed the 6th form. I live in Greenwich
- drop me an email if you are anywhere near and perhaps we could have a beer.
Btw Ken Thorpe shurely.
Keep up the railway preservation. Down at the
Kent and East Sussex Railway yesterday.
All the best
Kevin
Martyn, Frank & Kevin,
In an idle moment I wondered if there was any
mention of the old school on the WWW and lo and behold I found your site.
I spent the next two hours or so
circumnavigating every torturous twist of that bottomless pit called my brain
for reminiscences of those far off rose tinted days 1962 - 1969, if memory
serves me well.
I must confess the letters in the site brought
memories flooding back with tears of joy and sadness in equal measure.
To Frank and Kevin, nice to get back in touch.
Where are the rest of the lads, Christopher Martin Jolly, Dave Ffoulkes, Mike
Gibson, Kev Thorpe, Curly Pratt, ? Jones (Jonesus Porkus Est, the only Latin I
ever knew), Dave Bloom, Dave Lancaster, Paul Gibbs, Roland Moss, John 'The
dog's eaten my homework sir' Woods, Steve Robinson, Ray Williams, Steven Fry et
al. Where are the girls from the girls school, Liz Edwards, Angela Harrap, Heather
Halliday, Margaret Wood, Judith Entwistle, Linda Coakley?
Andrew Coakley is Linda your elder sister?
To all the Swinton, and beyond, old Standians
greetings and well met! The old No. 6 Salford City Transport bus had long gone
so have the 'specs'. I was at Bury one day when I saw one of the old buses and
thought 'I used to go to school on that'. How tempus fugits. Sorry, two
bits of Latin.
The winter of 62/63 was very bad and we didn't
do games for a few weeks we were taken for walk around the X country course
where Micheal Kiernan spent more time on his ar*e than standing upright. The
milk froze in the bottles!!! It was good being milk monitor you got more than
one bottle.
Dave 'Dribbler' Bloom was a good
footballer and when we were in the 6th form we were allowed to play footy on
the, then, new tennis courts. Well Dave took off on one of his amazing dribbles
beating everyone, including all his own team, and took an almighty swipe at the
ball which arced gracefully over the netting and down the railway embankment.
We never did find that ball despite the efforts of at least a dozen half naked
bods scrambling all over the railway in search of it!!! Third rail electrics,
650 volts Ha!!!
On another day we got changed, charged down the
steps to the new wing exit by the art room and out of the door. I had the ball
and doing a wonderful Eddie Waring type 'up and under' deposited the ball on
the roof!!! We spent the rest of the lesson getting it off the roof by
skilfully climbing/hanging out of the windows and getting onto the flat roof.
Once again in the 6th form we used to play
bridge or shove ha'penny in one of the labs off the balcony. This day we played
footy, or was it rugby, with a home made ball of rolled up socks (pheweeee!!!).
Kev Thorpe kicked the ball and his shoe flew off and left a perfect imprint on
the ceiling 20 ft. up. The joke was not only was it perfect in every detail but
the room has just been redecorated and as far as I know the footprint was there
'til the end.
When I read Frank's name it reminded me of his
dad, who of course was the school caretaker when I was there and a nicer bloke
you couldn't wish to meet. Where is Ian 'The Deece' Dyson?
Kevin well done on your achievements in Maths. I
thought you would be The Astronomer Royal by now? I keep looking.
So many names come back and so many incidents
that I can't put them all down at once.
It was good to see Haggis is still going strong.
Yes I've got clean hands, finger nails, white pumps and black shorts. Now it's
off to the showers for a good hose down. What would the school inspectors make
of that today!
Give my regards to Brien Crossfield. He taught
me Chemistry in a year, enough to pass my O level. The previous two years were
spent at the back of the Chemistry class with Chris Jolly after being banished
there by Kerry Holt.
If you remember the class had to stand outside
the labs until a master let them in. This day we were waiting for Mr Holt in
the room by the master's staircase. When Mr. Holt opened the door I shouted
'Forward Ho!!!' and was promptly thrown out. Another day Mr. Holt produced
Sulphur Dioxide gas, i.e. a stink bomb, he sent all the class to the back until
the nasty niff had dispersed so Chris and I went and sat at the front. 'Go and
stand outside the headmaster's study' was the reply. We never did, we went into
the library and did our homework. There's always a way around the system.
Johnny Frith (Room 26) and his whacker, a piece
of desk hollowed out to the shape of a cricket bat. I spent most of the history
lessons either in quod or being whacked!! Funny I've never liked history
since. Zena Goss, our art teacher.
I remember an English teacher called Esplin, who
took out all the enjoyment of the subject for me. It was many years later that
I regained my enjoyment of English when I began writing reviews and scripts for
various productions. Beware the man with glass eye!!!!
Mr. J. 'Joe Whit' Whitworth was a gentleman and
a scholar and that picture of him with the boxing team brought back memories of
a great teacher. It was a privilege to have been in his class.
Les Lumley was also one of the old school for
whom I have great respect.
Remember Fred Hill, all 3' 6" of him in his
gown with an armful of books and his shiny brown shoes that had reteads from ex
Army 2 ton Bedfords!!!! The tales he could tell on cricket. 'Life is real, Life
is earnest and the grave is not the goal!'
'Chippy' Woods, 'Charlie' Guest, 'Dicky' Dawson,
Miss Tiffin (and the French teacher whose stock phrase was 'Whitmarsh page xx',
'The Rev' Roberts, 'Wobber' Roberts, 'Fred' Knox all those teachers come back.
'Eddie' Hynes was one master I found obnoxious.
We were in the canteen one day on first sitting and I was head of table. The
sitting had finished and Eddie was sitting in the headmaster's chair as was his
wont when the headmaster wasn't at lunch. The noise level rose as the pupils
were waiting to be dismissed when Eddie stood up and shouted 'BE QUIET!!!!'. A
young lad at the bottom of my table replied in perfect imitation 'NO!!!!!'.
Eddie stormed round the tables to see who it was but he never found out. We
laughed. Another day the same young lad spilt the water jug after we had reset
the table. As we were mopping it up Eddie came round and started shouting at
the poor lad. I turned on him and said ' If you want to shout at anyone on my
table you shout at me first' or some such. 'See me after you're dismissed' he
said and stormed off. I stood my ground, was not put in detention and have
always used that as a anecdote when teaching managers to look after their
junior staff.
The food was served in those aluminium dishes
including the custard. 'Who wants the skin?'
I finished my degree in Physics at the
University of Surrey and then went into computing starting with
the PODPS (Post Office Data Processing Service) and progressed into Database
Administration, mainly on large commercial databases based, in the end, on
IBM's DB2 database. I was cast upon the scrapheap of human endeavour last
Christmas ('Please take this pot of money and never darken our doorstep
again'.' 'Too bloody true matey boy, good bye!'), and am now semi-retired and
living in Cranfield Beds.. How I found time to go to work full time I don't
know!!!
I spend most of my time now at my lifelong
passion, railways, railway preservation and writing.
I hope this rabid dribbling of an old Swintonian
brings back as many memories to you as it has for me.
Now I've got no excuse not to join the Old Boy's
Association.
Regards to all.
KIT (Keep In Touch)
Ian McDonald
The 1st photo is of Kev Parrott
& Dave Badlan sitting/stood by my old Austin A35 in the pub car park down
Park Lane on the day we received our A level results.
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Hi Martyn,
Very many thanks for your quick reply. I will
certainly follow up the leads you mention. I was born in Prestwich and we lived
in Whitefield, off Dales Lane, just near the School and when in left Stand I worked
in Manchester for a while and then in 1951 immigrated to Southern Rhodesia
(Zimbabwe), didn't like it and came to Australia in 1952 and have lived
here since then. I have been back to the UK a few times but the last time I saw
Stand was in 1973 when it appeared to be much as it was when I was there.It was
only recently I discovered the School had been closed and of course extremely
sad to read about the demolition on the website. Progress????
Thanks you for your suggestion about the Annual
Dinner, the last one I went to was, I think, in 1948. We shall have to see what
we can do about attending one again.
My kindest regards, John Scholes
Gidday Martyn
I saw on your site you were one of the Selva
travelers. I went also but cannot remember the others except a guy called
Glen Boardman from Ainsworth and vaguely some older guys. It was a great
time in my life, young Lancashire lad, and one of the few where I have gone
without potatoes for more than a week. I have some photos somewhere and
will try to dig them out. I am very impressed with the SGS boxing team 1955
on your site.
Do you know who or where the award boards went
from SGS when it was demolished? Funny reading the emails on the school.
It appears all those who hated it when students and would have loved to pulled
it down themselves, are the most concerned now, whereas I see no upsets
from the Aspins, Nortleys and Parkinsons.
Tara from down under
David Crompton
Hello Martyn
I have been put in touch with the ex Stand Grammar School Website by Alan
Engmann. We were both at
Stand at the same time,and by a complete fluke, my uncle Peter happened to
stumble on the site,and contacted Alan,
who then put two and two together and came up with the common denominator of
Bramah .I would be very grateful if you
could include my e-mail address on the "register".It may be more
convenient to use the address;
steve@scbsystems.com.
Regards
Steve Bramah (1968-72)
Drose 36258@aol.com for Dave Rose. Seems that it
must be the real old timers that hang around this board. I don't remember
anyone. I finished Stand 1980. Am I one of the youngest?
Dave Rose
Hi Martyn
Just came across the Stand Grammar site and
reading the messages makes me feel old, probably because I am old. I was at
stand from 1953 to 60 with Stan Black, Howard Jacobson, Lawrence Rickless, John
Heilpern, David Mycock, Aubrey Isaacson.My brother Neville was there from 1956
and he still lives in Prestwich village. I remember Willie P , Joe
Whit(history)and does anyone remember Mr. Payton (fuzzy wuzzy was a bear?).
I played piano in a rock and roll group with
Stan Black (Guitar.) caleed Tony Thompson and the Ramrocks (I suppose I was a
ramrock). I qualified as a Pharmacist at Liverpool and now in the Isle of
Man and a member of the Government in the Trade and Industry Department and
Chairman of the Isle of Man Film Commission.One of the 'perks' is attending the
Cannes Film Festival.
I would love to hear from anyone in my year who
is still alive.
Best wishes to everyone
Leonard Singer
My e-mail address is leonard.singer@gov.im
Hello Martyn, I am the younger brother of Ian
(who put me on to your website). I am now living in Brisbane with my new
family and am just coming to terms with the heat !! It would be good to
hear from anyone who remembers me especially the ones in Austalia! My
final year there was I think 1975/6
Thanks
Nev Entwisle
Martyn
Hope you are well.
Yes I've seen the gym picture of 1C. A bit dodgy for these PC days.
Watching the Ricky Gervais fight on television recently, reminded me of your
infamous bout with Chris Garlick. In the local paper about 6 months ago
it reported that a Chris Garlick had unfortunately passed away. Have you
received any further information regarding Chris?
Cheers
John Hall
From:
LOGANIC@aol.com
Hi martin just a note really I'm using a friends
email address. I was talking to Ian Oster about or old school days and we
were wondering what happened to Tony Rowley the last I heard he went off to
Barnsley. If you know will you let me know please.
many thanks
peter Dean
Dear Martyn,
found your site today. Knew the school had been
demolished since passing by this xmas while staying with my mother. Mixed
emotions but seeing the demolition pictures was like seeing a bit of my past
being demolished!
Thanks for doing all this. I always meant to
join the Old Standians but never got around to it. This time I will. Obviously
a select group of people now. Phil Hargreaves seems to be keeping well. I was
hopeless at gym but I managed to avoid that old gym shoe most of the time. My
best memories of SGS are of Les Lumley, my physics teacher. He was a brilliant
teacher and a really impressive bloke.
Any old class mates are welcome to get in touch.
(I left in 1968).
regards
Kevin (http://www.gre.ac.uk/~pa10/
Prof Kevin Parrott
University of Greenwich
Computing and Mathematical Sciences
<A.K.Parrott@gre.ac.uk>
Old Royal Naval College, Park Row, Greenwich,
London
SE10 9HA
U.K.
Martyn,
Do you have a means of helping me to ascertain
whether an old school friend is still alive? His name is James (Jim)
Sandiford, SGS 1940s vintage (NB now located - Martyn). I know that
sounds a bit of an imposition, but I have read online that he was on a list of
committee members for 2001, but I can't recreate the place where I saw that.
Spoke to David Haywood, Golf Assoc., but he couldn't help. He suggested Tony
Wilding of Bury, but I don't know his e-mail address or phone number.
For my sins, I am attempting to name all the 459
faces on the 1946 photograph (premature senility setting in?) and I am down to
the last 61 anonymous visages, resorting to barrel-scraping to determine
whether I can advance my cause. Not that I am expecting a miracle from such a
venerable soul as Jim Sandiford, but I would kick myself if he had an untapped
source of info. and I had not tried harder to find him.
An unhelpful rumour was telling me that he was -
er - up in that ever-threatening quod in the sky, but I don't like rumour. Can
you suggest whom I might approach to find him? (Hopefully not big G!)
Regards,
Peter Bramah (1940-47)
After a long chat with an old
"Standian" who I had not seen for nearly half a century, I was told
that there was a "Stand" Website, much to my horror and amazement. Lo
and behold, I saw a picture of my old classmate Roger Hodgkinson, and my cousin
Stuart Kershaw on another photo. This re-kindled a lot of memories, (mainly bad),
and I was surprised to see some names that I recognised on your
"links" pages, and I have E-mailed a couple of them. I left in 1962,
after many a year of torture, and some of the names that I remember were,
Raymond Donn, Harold Morley, Ellis Santhouse, David Hack, Roger Hogkinson. Were
there any class records ever left anywhere ( not that I wish to be reminded of
any academic ability), but the class names would be interesting?? Unfortuntely,
I do not have anything from that period to contribute - be it good or bad!!..I
will keep have a look in now and again, and see what turns up.
You can put me on the links page if you wish, to
add to your long list, and maybe I will get a couple of E-mails. thanks a
lot...
Regards..
Stephen Gilbert, left in 1962 without looking
back!
Dear Martyn,
thanks for putting this thing together. I hope
the site continues to thrive and that you continue to be arsed to post peoples'
contributions. This is my first post, although I previously had the unfortunate
task of alerting you to the demise of Ian 'Jez' Levine, one of your most
erudite and funny contributors. Sadly, my generation of 'Old Standians' (I'm
sorry, but I hate all the old institutional crap) also had to bid farewell to
Derek Greenfield (Greeny, Shanks etc.) two years ago, the victim of a
cataclysmic brain insult. Two great blokes, it would be nice to hear some
insightful & hilarious stories from their old classmates (I only hooked up
with them in the sixth form, when SGS was no more).
In response to 'Pele' - the joke band that
played illicit gigs in the canteen & elsewhere (circa '78) was,
embarassingly, called Wahoo! The line-up was 'Woody' ( .... Wood, forget his
first name) a bespectacled keyboard player who modelled himself on Dave
Brubeck; Gary 'Guz' Hayes, a disturbingly talented psychopathic behemoth who
provided the musical brains - that I guess he must have inherited from his mum,
as his dad was a notorious dog breeder cum wrestler ('Judo’ Chunky Hayes') and
myself, Mark Horrocks, at that time known as 'Oz'. I wrote 'lyrics' to Guz
Hayes' tunes, mainly teenage angst, toilet humour & thinly veiled
anti-Stand polemics. I vividly remember Tabs Hunter waggling his stumps helplessly
from the back of a packed canteen in a vain attempt to curtail our fun. He
didn't stand a chance as we'd locked the back door and his way from the front
was deliberately blocked by a horde of revolutionary, nihilistic sixth formers
(don't forget that this was at the height of punk). The expletive ridden faecal
anthem 'the toilet song' ( .. brown stains on the bowl where the mighty turds
lie .. ) was one of our most popular numbers, alongside 'the USA' referred to
by Pele.
That'll do for now. By the way, does anybody
know what happened to Paul Maloney? He was a very bright redhead - always top
in science subjects; we used to hang out together most of the time (I think he
planned to train as a dentist)
Mark Horrocks
Hello Martyn,
I've just been looking through your SGS website
again, and saw the part regarding "weekly report" comments. The best
that I ever remembered was by A J Frith (johnny) who, early on in the week
wrote "a dim start". Later on he added "followed by total
darkness" Fortunately, he was not writing about me! "Johnny
Frith" was in charge of the cross country running team for many years,
during which time it enjoyed much success, and in one year ,probably 1964 the
team won every match of the year. He used to ride around on a bike which was
always known as the green flash! He would have been quite young at the time and
I often wonder where he is now, and if he even knows about the website.
I will make a definite effort to attend the
annual re union this year,
Kind Regards,
Brian Heywood.
Hi there Martyn.
I just registered on the Friends Reunited site
and was truly amazed to find so many old friends from my days at Stand. I
started the same year as you in 1967 in 1P. Just reading some of the info on
the site has stirred some old memories.
How well I recall some of the teachers and it
seems some of them had as lasting an impression on others as well... who could
forget Haggis or "killer" crouchley and the reference to Britten the
music teacher... oh so true...
I recall Baz Brooks telling me that there was no
way on this earth that I would pass my CSE in Maths.. something to do woth a
minor detail of never handing in a piece of homework and being double booked in
detention for a large portion of my 4th year.... so I got a grade 1 CSE just to
spite him...
Good to see a site in memory of the old school.
Regards
Tony Gallacher
Does anyone remember the lads from Swinton?
They used to catch the No 13 bus. Occasionally,
they were known to "cadge a lift" home (to Swinton) from Benjy. There
were at least 3 of them, as I remember..
"Sam Maguire" I sure that I've got his
surname wrong. Sam sadly passed away not long after we had left Stand.
"’Somebody’ Cooke". I can't for the
hell of me remember his first name.
And likewise ..."’somebody’ Hobson".
We were in 1S together and the subsequent S's. He nutted me one day for
something I did, but can't remember why he did it. I know that I deserved it
though!
If anyone has any contact with them, please pass
it along.
Regards
Alan Engmann
ps I've remembered the names.. Sam McGurk,
Jonathon Cooke, and Anthony (Tony) Hobson.
dear martin, congratulations as the site goes
from strength to strength. I've enjoyed some of the contributions immensely
and would like to add one of my own.Some time ago someone enquired as to the
identity of a teacher known as "ken ben
len."Like an earlier contributor i can confirm his name was Whitworth and
he taught physics. The reason i'm so sure is
that he once took me to Hudson because i said physics was crap.My reward from
Hudson was six strokes of the cane
which i thought was a bit rich even for the seventies! As one who now earns a
living by trying to bring enlightenment
(amongst other things) to 11-16 year olds i can only suggest that if we adopted
the same policy today there'd be a
shortage of bamboo. Got to go, unexpected visitors. Keep up the good
work, Paul Prendergast 1973-78
Martyn,
Excellent website--I must say that I was very
sorry to read and see the old school has been demolished. I've re-lived many
experiences from reading through the Terms submissions and thought I should
make a contribution.
I started my life forming experience at Stand in
1964 in 1A (Kershaw was the form teacher), then went onto 2B (Fletcher), 3A
(Garret?) 4M (Crouchley), 5A (Bent), 6AE &7AE (Revie)
The salient recollections include a prefect
called Trounce who was probably a transplant from Tom Brown’s school days
Cedric "pay attention laddie" Cheetham
took us for metal work and later for engineering drawing
Brian (Rocker) Jensen A level chemistry. Made us
analyse some awful organic compound which inevitably got on our hands and left
a smell like something you would avoid treading in. Other people on the bus
home were convinced it was on someone’s shoes! Rocker thought it was very
amusing.
Harry (Worth) Walker, took us for arithmetic in
1A and for science in 2B (& 3A?) I don't think that I've seen anyone else
refer to him. He had this crazy system of awarding points for the correct
answer to classroom questions. At some stage lessons moved on to the
fermentation process, which naturally led to talk of beer. Somehow he ended up
accepting a challenge for us to brew beer and the best would be awarded mega
points. Within a week several enterprising people had been down to the office
licence and re-bottled John Brown best and past it off as their own. 50
points for that, lad, excellent taste! How did you do it...?
Wimpey Longstaff who got in such a rage because
1A couldn't sing some stupid note that he threw a tuning fork across the class.
Bodies parted like the Red Sea as the fork spiralled through the air and impaled
itself in a desk lid.
Geoff (Gerhard) Bent German teacher. Not seen
any mention of him. I thought he was one of the better teachers. I can
remember him whacking people across the head with the text book when they
failed to get the correct ending to a verb or adjective.
Best maths teacher must be Fred Hill (who I only
had in the upper 6th) Fantastic tales of the troubles in Abyssinia, but more
importantly taught us the technique to pass the "Pentagon’s tests"
Toseland (Uncle Fester) must have been the worst
teacher ever. Had him for 3 years—unlucky or what?
Cross country running and cutting off the corner
on the Carter's Hill course by running around the perimeter of the Jewish
cemetery. On one occasion with Ken Parkes and Chris Leach we jokingly thumbed a
lift from a passing labourer on a dumper. He stopped for us and we had chugged
along for a fair distance. Who remembers bouncing the steamed up car that was
parked on the course one day? Couldn't see the couple inside for condensation,
but I'm sure that we added to their special moment!
The day someone painted f**k off Barnes in four
feet high white paint across the front of the school. I can picture the
culprit, but can’t remember his name. At a subsequent prefects' meeting Tab
Hunter was discussing pupil behaviour and commented that thankfully the
majority "don’t go round painting f**k orff" on the building.
On balance it was a good school; a life forming
experoience as they say!
I'm married with 2 daughters and living in Devon
where I have an engineering management post in the water industry. Would
welcome news from former classmates.
Geoff Breckin
Hi there Martyn ,
My name is Mark Christopher Bolton and after
much traveling i have made my home in Wellington, New Zealand . I am now 42 yrs
old , so i was a pupil at Stand Grammar School in the early to mid seventies .
Although most of my time at the school was spent trying to avoid the bullies
and steer clear of the various forms of corporal punishment from the teachers ,
i am still very proud that i attended Stand Grammar School . A friend
here in N.Z. actually put me on to checking up on school websites in the
U.K. and to my surprise and pleasure i found your site. I was in Ragdale
house and as a new arrival to the school i was greeted by haggis as my form
teacher , a hell of a shock i can tell you . I have two ' endearing ' memories
of him , on the first games day of my time at Stand , he gave me the gym
pump ' Percy ' , in front of the whole year on a freezing cold day , because my
mother had bought me slightly the wrong colour in soccer socks , what a
travesty !
The second incident occurred when i held my geog
homework in to him having spent about 4 hours drawing a temperate map of Africa
, it looked resplendent with all it's colours ! Not good enough for him , he
put a huge line through it because i hadn't done my corrections from the night
before , i was gutted ! I have countless stories from my time at the school ,
partly due to a photographic memory i have and i would be very keen to hear
from any of the guys who went through the school with me during this period ,
you have my permission to pass on my e- mail address to anyone who wants to
link up .
One of the more unpleasant sides to my time at
Stand , were several confusing and distasteful encounters with Mr. Britten
, the music teacher at the time . In an effort to retain my dignity and
through sheer embarrassment i never uttered a word to anyone for all these
years , apart from my wife of course . I think to encourage humor on this
subject is in bad taste , i was lucky.... as i am of strong character and a
very confident professional here in the Antipodes . I won't go into too much detail
but i think as teacher who is supposed to demand respect and set an example
from his pupils , he was a disgrace ! If he was teaching in these modern times
and especially here in N.Z. he would be in jail !
I'm not bitter about what happen to me Martyn ,
time heals all , but i'm dammed sure he mentally affected a hell of a lot of
former pupils who might not have been as strong as me . I'm sorry to have to
shatter the romance of the ' good old days ' , but i had to get it off my chest
, i hope you understand . As for the rest of the web site , top stuff
indeed , it caused the memories to come flooding back and there were some good
times , sneaking out to the deli at the bottom of Stand Lane at lunch time for
a ham bagel ( they were to die for ) , no contest compared to the school
canteen and it's mouldy frog spawn milk pudding ! I'll be interested to receive
any comments you might have concerning my e-mail and i would love to hear from
former pupils of my era , maybe there is someone here in N.Z. , stranger
things have
happened !
Thank you for your entertaining and informative
site , i will check it out for regular updates , but please no more referrals
to the 'fiddler ' , it really wasn't funny at all .
Yours .......... Mark Bolton , P.O. Box 11445 Wellington , New Zealand .
Hi Martyn!
Just got an email from David Christmas in Oz,
seems to be doing well with solar panels and things. I told him I had another
story to tell...
The car park area was out of bounds, and so was
a good meeting place for skull duggery and putting stones in teachers hub caps
(sorry sirs!). I had made an arrangement with Dave Christmas to meet him there
for reasons which now escape me. Unfortunately he didn't show (he was far more
sensible than me) but Heinz (I think it was) did. "What are you doing here
boy it's out of bounds?"
"Waiting for Christmas, sir"
Yes I know... don't ask me why, but that's what I said not having completely
mastered the use of brain for communication purposes. To me it was perfectly
accurate and the truth, but to Dr Barnes who was by now hearing the story from
Heinz, and despite my protestations that it was David Christmas, not actually
"Christmas" that I was waiting for, pure insolence was rewarded with
pure pain... ouch!
Does anyone remember the nice black and white
lizard we had in the Bio lab? ** It wasn't there for very long, and I know
why... We were allowed in at dinner time because we were seen as sensible and
old enough to behave like young gentlemen in the 5th year I think it was,
gentlemen who used to get the mice out, gas them a little bit from those very
useful gas taps just to make them groggy and to enhance their enjoyment at
being whizzed along the entire length of one of the benches, great fun, just
ask the mice! Nobody touched those bloody ugly froggy toad things with stitches
on the sides, but just about everything else got a fair "airing" for
exercise purposes of course. Out comes the nice new lizard. It was surprising
how docile it was, hardly moved until suddenly the lizard realised that here
was an opportunity to see the rest of the world. Now whether or not he did I
can't honestly say, but once he'd legged it behind the heating pipes, he was
never seen again. Dr Barnes announced rather sullenly next day that the lizard
had mysteriously escaped and that we should be vigilant..
What about those things in glass cases on top of
the cupboards? I can remember a two headed lamb, was it two headed or is that a
false memory?
Well that's all for chapter 2. Naturally there's
more, and your web site has really triggered some memories for me, some I'd
rather have forgotten for good, maybe next time some bean spilling needs to
take place? Anyone like singing...!
Hi to everyone who remembers me and keep up the
excellent work Martyn.
Mark (Spud) Fletcher 1966 - 72 1c etc..
** I remember the lizard, and so does Doc
Barnes! I was at the Old Standians Dinner this year (2003) and was sat opposite
him. I mentioned the story about the missing lizard and how 'someone' had
accidentally been involved in liberating it and had admitted his involvement
after all this time. He remembered it because it caused him a good deal
of worry at the time as it turns out to have been not just any old
lizard, but a Gila Monster from Southern USA / Mexico, with an extremely
dangerous venomous bite! I don't know why he was so worried. The pages I
just looked up say that 'the bite is rarely fatal to humans'.
Perhaps it got into the sewers, has grown to ten feet long and will soon start
terrorising residents of the new housing estate!
Martyn
dear martyn
Gordon Simpson here class of 1980 id be interested to know if you or any of your readers have any copies of the standian circa
1976-1980 they could either lend or forward
to me, and has anyone got an address for a certain Mr Philip hargreaves
many thanks
Gordon Simpson
Hello Martyn.
Fabulous website.Just spent the best part of 6
hours looking thru the messages.I'm the younger brother of Ian. Can you put my
e-mail address on your list its haynev @aol.com I was at Stand from
1970-1975 and would be interested in hearing from anyone who remembers me.
Many Thanks
Nev Entwistle
I attended SGS from 74-79 and am now
living in Southsea, Hants.Your site is great. Brought back some good memories.
Shame about the school and sorry I wasn't on line before now to attend
re-unions.I would love to be able to get in touch with some of my old mates. Do
you have any more names and addresses that are not on line?
Ewan More
Dear Martyn
I've not communicated for some time, mainly
because I think I have exhausted my memories of the "good old days"
I still regularly look at the site and am
pleased that you have so many contributors, I am still surprised that I seem to
be the only one from my year, unless my memory is fading and I've forgotten
people's names - forty years on (since I left in 1962)
Anyway I have found the following websites that
may be of interest to everyone, I think I might have sent you the Whitefield
one previously but they seem to have tidied it up and there is also a link to
SGS, pity they can't spell Grammar correctly on the linked page.
Interesting that the Guide has information about
the history of Prestwich.
http://www.prestwichguide.fsnet.co.uk/
http://www.geocities.com/whitefieldudc/#index
Again, well done with the website
Kind regards
Barry Noden
Wiping the tear from my eye after finding your
heart-warming site, at last something useful on the web.
Mark Fletcher (SPUD), age 46 sorry 47 next week,
bugger, and I think if my mafs serves me right I was at Stand 1966 to I think
1972. 1st year was 1C like you Martyn, and yes I've got stories to tell just
like everyone else, but how come everyone claims to have been caned regularly,
were we really that bad? Dr Barnes will confirm please.
Ah yes Haggis, sorry, Mr Hargreaves. My fondest
memory on my very first day at school as he may or may not remember was,
waiting in the changing room, nice clean uniforms, nice new pump bags, nice
labels stitched to all items, when the doors flew open and this barrel chested
white haired git stood to attention in front of us. Now me being like everyone
else, fresh from primary didn't know about the environment in which we now
found ourselves, and names were something you used loosely at best,
particularly calling people Mr. So when he asked the silent group of 1c on our
first ever lesson on our first ever day "You all know me boys don't you?
You boy?" his finger seemed to be pointing at me, yes it definitely was
cos nobody else volunteered a name... "Haggis" I replied. I'm not
sure if everyone laughed because it was a nervous reaction or whether they had
somehow arrived at Stand fully equipped with the rules of engagement for a
grammar school, but I most certainly wasn't, nor did I fully understand why his
name was not indeed Haggis but Mr Hargreaves as he eloquently pointed out to me
with a smile I will always remember, rather like Hannibal Lecter / Jaws. That
set my fate with Haggis for the rest of my stay in (no longer) Stand(ing)
Towers. Given a bad lead there I thought, best wise up fast, but I didn't as I
bungled into one nightmare after another.
I stole Percy, yes me. Percy the pump, because I
was sick of Percy paying particular interest in my arse, so I took him and
triumphantly presented him to my eager and astounded friends whilst
ceremoniously attempting to burn him at the bottom of the field where we had a
No 6 at break but burn he would not, so he was doomed to the rail track.
Everyone was extremely impressed I thought and I felt elevated to stardom but
it was short lived. Now why didn't it occur to me that he'd know it was our
class, and that you'd all crack so easily when he lined us all up and
introduced us to his new friend... Percy 2. "It was Fletcher sir" you
all screamed in complete and utter unified panic, the only time the school
choir to my knowledge was ever able to attach the notion of timing to a tune
and the correct words pitch etc Bengy would have been so impressed if he wasn't
busy groping some poor kid (yes we all got that by the piano didn't we boys,
story later) so Percy 2 was christened on my spread-eagled buttocks against the
horse.
I haven't read all the stories yet but I'm sure
Haggis's accuracy with the cold water hose in the showers will have been
covered, needless to say I have an aversion to washing my car with no clothes
on just in case he's in the neighbourhood.
Oh I could go on and on.. and I will eventually,
but not in this email, it will take too long. It's fabulous seeing all those
stories, reading about peoples time at that awful place. I didn't have a good
time, but it was probably my fault, and you know what, despite Haggis's
attention to the pain factor, I realised later in life he did have a sense of
humour as well as a sadistic bent and it really was good to see the old bastard
sitting looking so healthy in your pic. I wonder if he remembers me. As for
Bengy Britten, I'll cover him in another email, it'll take a good few pages, as
will events and golden memories like David Christmas and his lust for the
English language. He just had that certain something that very few are blessed
with so I'll end with the only verse I can remember that he wrote in a poem
about our life at Stand for an English lesson..
Yesterday we had gym
and the best at gym
is Jim
Hard to believe he could only have been about 12
/ 13
Hope you're keeping well old Shakespearian bard
David!
Best wishes to all and hope someone remembers me
to send an email If you want to know what I do, take a look at my web sites
at:-
www.manchesterplay.org
www.cybertales.co.uk
Congrats on a brill site Martyn and I will keep
in touch, hopefully attending a future do..
Mark (Spud) Fletcher 1966 - 72
Hello Martyn
I've just finished reading through your website
and the memories have come, well, stumbling back. My name's Peter Brown
but most people will remember me as 'Pele'. This nickname was a hangover
from my primary school days and became a bit of a millstone around my
neck. Denholm must have been disappointed as I never delivered on the
football pitch!
I came across your website by some strange fluke
of circumstance. My wife works for an insurance company and one day she
took a call from somebody down south. Always endeavouring to build
rapport, she latched on to the caller's northern accent who then went on to
explain that he was originally from Whitefield. The conversation
developed and, obviously, SGS and me came into it. It turned out that the
caller was Digger Prendergast and here I am courtesy of his car insurance.
I can't quite place Digger but I remember the name.
My sentence lasted from 1973 to 1980 and I was
in Phillips house along with Mark Barlow ('Scruff') and Darrell Horn
(imaginatively nicknamed 'Daz') who have already contributed. Although I
hated school, it wasn't SGS's fault and I have fond memories of the
place. Now that it's been knocked down, I feel that a slice of me has
gone and somebody has meddled with my past without checking with me. I
now live in Rossendale but I pass the place from time to time and, in fact, I
parked briefly outside the housing development the other day and bored my
daughter rigid explaining the significance of the site. She just wanted
to go to McDonalds!
Speaking of Rossendale, I think Babs Bunting
must live nearby as I see her in Rawtenstall from time to time. She's
looking well actually and she must have been about twelve when she taught us!
Some of the other teachers I can remember:
Smethurst ('Smelly') - "Slipper? Slipper?
Who's got a slipper?". Double maths was a nightmare!
Swift ('Jasper') - can't remember any
catchphrases but he was a brilliant teacher. The other teachers must have
been pissed off that Maths dominated our time so much though. He used to
commute from Glossop by train, which impressed me at the time.
Cheetham ('Cedric') - "You just can't be
bothered." "You're looking but not seeing." "Go
and stand under the clock." He was right as it turns out but we
didn't realise it at the time. As well as his scooter, he drove an old
Humber car that looked like a tank.
Towey (??) - "Read, learn, mark and
inwardly digest pages x to y". Particularly adept at striking
somebody down with a board duster.
McCafferty ('Paddy') - "P -a - r - l - i -
ament". "Pass smelly farm". The 'slippering the
whole year' incident on the tennis courts sticks vividly in my mind.
Heinz ('Hairy') - "Stop playing with your
nasal refuse you disgusting individual!"
Whitworth ('Ken Ben Len') - "Just get on
with it!". During one memorable lesson, we decided to covertly (so
we thought) move somebody's bag around the classroom from person to
person. Ken had reached the end of his tether when it reached me and he
practically ripped my head off! In the same lesson, Creepy (Crawley) was
sent to The Beak to explain why he'd shouted "Some twat's nicked me
pen!" in the middle of the bag moving incident.
Birch ('Willy'?) - "In your notes,
repeating, in your notes, repeating, in your notes.....". The things
I remember about biology were the sex education films, which was a bit like
watching a pathe news reel; those strange pumps that use to whirl around
aerating the aquariums and potassium permanganate, which we used to persuade
worms to come out of the ground. Why?
Cain ('Kwai Chang Cain') - "Do you want a
cloot, lad?". Had twenty foot long hairy arms. "Kwai",
"Chang" and "Cain" used to echo around the classroom,
disguised as coughing.
Hargreaves ('Haggis' of course) - "Four
teams go!” Used to make us walk around the showers in a circle and
sprayed us with cold water. Hmmm.
Jones (Miss) (don't think she had a nickname) -
she was nice but could be tough when she wanted to. Andrew Mellon
('George' after George Melly) was required to sit at her desk for every French
lesson. He always came suitably attired with funny mask, monster glove,
pretend vomit etc and took every opportunity to frighten the hell out of her.
Crouchley ('Killer') - no catchphrase springs to
mind but he looked like Christopher Lee in Dracula guise.
The ones we fancied - Miss Holland (I think),
the Art teacher. She looked like the blond girl out of Abba. There
was an English teacher with black hair but I can't remember her name and a
French assistant that we all adored.
Others worth mentioning: Hunter ('Tabs'); Martin
('Doc'); Shuttleworth ('Shuttlecock'); Clarke ('Clanger'); a collection of
Murrays; a couple of Brookes; Revie ('Don'); Greaves ('Digger'); Jones
('Iggy'); Wood ('Chippy'); Slack (he did Classics but he might have been the RE
teacher that Scruff was referring to); Russell ('Rob'); Smith ('Al') and many
more lurking in the dark recesses of my brain but I can't manage to dredge them
up. Was Jenny Saunders the one that wore about 5 gallon of perfume?
I think I've exhausted that now so here's some
other incidents/things I can remember about SGS:
The Ecky Thump incident - I was there and it was
brilliant!
Murder in the Red Barn. The lead character
did a brilliant take on Freddie Mercury.
Severs ('Slavers') falling on his face in the
gym and smashing his front teeth.
The fat tie competition. The result was
that the knot was about two inches long and the remaining 15 yards of material
was stuffed inside your shirt. I've still got my tie and my daughter wore
it recently to a Harry Potter party! We tied it in the conventional
manner.
Me laughing so much on the trampoline that my
false tooth fell out and proceeded to jump alongside me!
Me swallowing my false tooth while I was eating
my dinner and Doc Martin sticking his fingers down my throat trying to induce
vomiting! He eventually took me to Bury General half comatose.
Only stiffs carried their briefcases by the
handle. The cool guys carried it in their arms like a sack of spuds.
Me singing 'Voulez Vous' in a stupid voice at
the bridge club not realising that Don Revie was behind me. Similarly, I
told a fellow pupil to "Get stuffed", or words to that effect, when
he was cribbing my work by peering over my shoulder, only to discover it was
Paddy McCafferty. Luckily, he saw the funny side and I got away with it!
Sneaking into the downstairs loo (opposite side
of the entrance hall to Cedric's metalwork shop) at lunchtime. Here we
re-enacted scenes from Monty Python, Reginald Perrin, Fawlty Towers etc.
Speech Night at the Free Trade Hall because I
walked on the same stage that Bowie and Mick Ronson had graced some months
earlier. (Well, it excited me at the time.) 'Timtishun' (can't spell his
name, loads of Cs, Ys and Zs) won everything!
Changing the words to the school song to
"Guard your arses, Iggy's here".
Being victimised by Clanger because I had a
spiky haircut. He accused me of being a punk. The situation deteriorated
further when I explained I wasn't, I was a Bowie freak!
The lad a year or two older than me that had a
grey Mallen streak in his hair, a bit like Dickie Davies.
The classrooms surrounding the hall had little
raised stages and we'd often move the teacher's table right to the very edge so
that whenever the teacher sat on it, the whole thing would go flying.
This treatment was usually reserved for new student teachers and never employed
on the Clangers, Smellys, Toweys of the world.
The pop concerts we organised in the canteen
when we were in the sixth form. I can't remember what the band was called
but we all loved singing along to 'Another Brick in the Wall'. Another
favourite was the self-penned 'USA' which was an acronym for the Upper Study
Area - the mezzanine bit they built over the hall when the school was converted
to a sixth form college.
And I think that's probably it. I could
possibly dredge up some more memories but they'd probably wouldn't be of much
interest.
Anybody reading this could be forgiven for
thinking that Phillips house spent their entire school lives carrying out
practical jokes and taking the piss out of the teachers. It wasn't like
that. We had a laugh like any other school kids but there was also a lot
of hard work and dedication from pupils and teachers alike and we
received a first class education. I, for one, am very proud that I
attended SGS and wouldn't have had it any other way.
I've managed to retrieve some documents from an
old scrap book of mine. I've attached them in .tif format and I hope you
can make use of them. The first one is the Daily Mirror article on the Ecky
Thump incident. Say no more! The second is a review of Murder in
the Red Barn from the Radcliffe Times and the third, which is perhaps the most
interesting, is an article on Tabs from the TV Times. Yes, the TV
Times! This was written when Nightingale's Boys was broadcast and draws
parallels between the TV production and Tabs' class of '49. What is
striking for me is that, not only does Tabs' class of '49 sound very much like
my own, some 25 years later, but after another 25 years there's a another bunch
of men approaching middle-age and repeating the 'Whatever happened to ...?'
inquiry.
Best of luck with the website.
Peter Brown ('Pele')
Hi Martyn
Ian Niven here. I was an inmate between 1963 and
1970. I came across your site fairly recently, and this was where I learned
that SGS is no more. It brought back many memories to read the site.
Like many of your correspondents, the same names
spring to mind:
Haggis, Hynes, Longstaffe, Britten. Why do we
all remember them, when there were many more deserving of memory. I may have
wondered about the quality of teaching at times, but compared to the science
"education" my children have had, Keith Reavey and Brien Crossfield
did a fine job. I have to admit that in many respects the school was in a time
warp.
I remember the "Red Flag" being run up
the flagpole one fine day, and a special assembly to castigate us all, after
which Hairy Hynes "educated" us all for a period on the subject of
practical jokes. It all seems a long time ago, which it was.
I went on from Stand to study Chemistry at
Imperial College, and then on to UMIST for a PhD. I have since worked in
industry at Unilever, on Merseyside. I have maintained my allegiance to Man.
Utd. all these years despite much aggravation from the locals!
I married Gillian (nee Newgrosh), ex of Stand
Girls school in 1977, and we have 3 children: Karn, Deborah and Michael. The
girls are both away at University, and Michael is in Year 9 (3rd form).
Regards to anyone from my era who remembers me,
and thanks Martyn for the site.
With Kind Regards,
Ian Niven
A pal of mine told me about the Friends reunited link. What a great idea. Want
at some time to add a few memorable occasions that occurred during my time at
Stand 1962 - 1967. Started with Brien Crossfield in 1c and ended up with the
dubious pleasure of being the form prefect for haggis in 1967. Went to college
in London for 6 years and eventually joined Bayer in 1979 in UK. Now working
for Bayer in Sydney email address dralan@bigpond.com.
Please add to list.
Thanks
Alan McGilvray
PS Did "killer" Crouchley have more than one suit??
Martyn
Please add my name to your site. I was at
Stand from 1967 to 1974. I had an uproarious time reading the site.
The memories it brought back are so vivid. Yes all the teachers were
sadists, mad or have been completely forgotten. Some years ago Jock
Weir's daughter appeared as a temp at my place of work. She later surfaced
as a native eco warrior protesting up a tree against the Manchester Airport
Second runway.
regards
Ian Shinwell
Hi Martyn
I am the 'Barnes-no news' as referred to in one
of the letters on your site. I have tried to add an entry, but for some reason
it will not allow me to do so. I am contacting Peter Berning, Peter Snipe and
Danny Weidenbaum through friends reunited, which is where I spotted your site.
They are all contempories of mine. I'll be in touch.
Chris Barnes: Radcliffe, 1967 - 1974
From the 1950s does anyone remember the English
teacher " Joe" Ogden ? For those days he had quite an
unorthodox teaching style almost human at times. I remember him giving us
colour blindness tests - no I don't know why! He also used to tell us about his
days before teaching. I’m not sure how true this is but he reckoned he'd been
confined to a mental hospital but had escaped and regained his freedom after
staying hidden for whatever was the requisite period in those days. His son was
John Ogden, the pianist, who came to school one afternoon and gave us a
performance. We were all extremely bored , I regret to say.
I was a pupil at Stand until the summer of 1959.
Barry Hall.
Hi Martyn
I was in 6LA in 1978 and 7LA in 1979 and I feel
I and the rest of the form owe an apology to Mr Schlesinger (French) for making
his life hell. We were based in the huts at the back of the gym near the
playground and carried out some rotten tricks when "Slaz" used to
come to take the register each morning. Crimes included:
Unscrewing the door form its hinges but leaving
it in situ. When Slaz pushed it fell flat shattering the glass. Piling all the
furniture up in the centre of the room and exiting by the fire door so that all
Slaz found was an empty room Emptying the dry powder fire extinguishers onto
the floor and again exiting via the fire door so there was a mysterious lack of
footprints Stealing the wheels of David End's Marlboro mini Smashing the
windows in the old huts with a pin pong ball (honest!)
I can't remember which incident got me suspended
during my mock "A" levels but I am eternally grateful for the
revision time. I would never have passed without the time off!
And so to the song, this was made up by someone
(?) and sung to Slaz. He subsequently went off long term sick with a nervous
breakdown (no joke). It is to the tune of the Floral Dance:
We're in a class in a grammar school
We're in class and the teacher's a fool
We're in 6LA and every day
We start the day in the same old way
Slaz comes in, the light goes on
And then we sing the same old song
Allez Allez Allez Le Slaz
Allez Le Slaz and Allez Le Slaz
I am sure there was more. Can anyone remember
the rest?
Also does anyone know where my mate from years 4
and 5 is. His name is Tim Sunderland, he moved to Frodsham in about 1977 and
I'd really like to know what happened to him.
Regards
Howard Joseph
Sales Director
McGuffie Brunton Limited
Tel +44 161 876 4498
Fax +44 161 876 4502
Email: hjoseph@mcguffie.co.uk
Website: www.mcguffie.co.uk
Martyn
I came across this web site by chance and was
sad ( Pleased?) to see the place where I learnt more about life than
education being pulled down. I was at Stand from 1960 to 1966 an inmate
of Clive House and it is terrifing to remember teachers names who still
cause me to shake and tremble. My worst memory is being chased by Firth
on his green bike through the dark on a Cross country run detention
(could never remember dates) with the words “keep running like that and I will
have you in the cross country team”. I moved away almost as soon as I
left school, lure of the big smoke and an overseas life and have only been back
a couple of times since. Lost touch with most of the lunatics who managed to
avoid being prefects and the like and was sadden to see so few names from this
period on your list.
Will send the ten pounds but unlikely to make
reunions for a while as I am currently working in East Africa and will be for
the next two years.
Will keep reading the site. Good luck with
it all
Mike (Hamster) Hammond 1960-66
I came across the SGS website recently one lunch
time and was suprised to see so little from anyone who was there between 1953
and 1958. The photograph of the boxing club in the late 50s contained some of
the only names I can recall.
There has been no mention on the site of
Howard Jacobson (author) who has a regular column in Saturday’s
Independent. He and his pals seem to spend most of their spare time
hogging the table tennis table which was in the first floor washroom. No
one else could ever get a game. Most of the masters who taught me Have
been mentioned on the site except I think for Ivor Jones(what are doing in MY
woodworkshop boy. No mention anywhere of games of Pitch and Toss behind the
woodwork shop.
Most of my school friends came on the bus and
train from Middleton. Some I recall were Brian Lee, Dave Leach, Ian McDowell,
Rodney Applewhite and other whose names I forget. In my first year there were
three Browns, initials J (from Swinton), R.S.(from Whitefield) and myself J.G.
after leaving SGS in 1958 I worked in local government until 1974 and then
spent 25 years as a Trade union Official with NALGO (now Unison) in Taunton
until I was offered a large brown envelope. I now work as an employment
consultant in Barnstaple, North Devon.
To end, a story about Joe Bog. One day I lost my
ruler but immediately found another which I duly kept. At the next English
lesson everyone was interrogated by him as to who had stolen his ruler. It
could be recognised because it had red ink stains along its edge. I had
that ruler. I took it home and it never saw the light of day at SGS.
Graham Brown
Great site. My Stand era 1940-1945. Now retired
living in Breaston, Derbys. In touch with Jim Henaughan and Bob Chadwick (same
era). O.S.Football Club news of interest.
Whitehead, Geoffrey William
Great site Martyn,
brought back many memories and lots of laughs,
unfortunately I was on the other side attempting to teach you lot. Interesting
to see myself described as one of those who had idleness off to an art form.
But good to be described as one of the younger and more trendy teachers - we
are talking early 70s here - though Robert Holt did get my name wrong - it's
Bradshaw not Chadwick, but memories fade.
Sad to see the old place demolished. It's where
I began my teaching career - which I have since escaped from.
Anyway, keep up the good work
Regards
Keith Bradshaw
History, PE 1971-79
Mountaineering club with Killer Crouchley
Hi Martyn,
Is Haggis still alive ? That man made my life a
misery for two years. Once in his Geography lesson he stood up and said "
Rowley go and wash your face, it's filthy" and gestured towards his
top lip. I went in the bog and had a wash, looked in the mirror and realised
what the old git was banging on about: it was my first year bumfluff bangers n
mash. What an idiot.
Another master (ha ha) who made my life hell
just for one year was Smelly. One day we were due for a test in maths and the
grey haired assassin was waiting for us with our foolscap neatly arranged in a
lovely spiral so just to wind him up I grabbed a piece from halfway down and
screwed his spiral up. He promptly whacked me 5 times for this most heinous of
crimes.
A great detention session was had by all when me
and Stan (Paul) Cavanagh nicked two bags of polystyrene atom building balls
from the chemistry labs and handed them out before Baz Brooks got in the room.
On Stan's signal Mr. Brooks was bombarded with about five hundred of said
projectiles and uttered the immortal (and foolish) line: "if I see one
more of those , you're all in detention next week". That was met with
howls of laughter and five hundred more "atoms". Brilliant.
On all the sites i've been on no one has
mentioned Speech Night at the Free Trade Hall. It was a riot every year. We
used to catch the train. It was full of SGS "gentlemen" in uniform
throwing each others stuff out of the windows. Sensational. I got whacked
off Chemi Biff for singing the "na na na" bit in between words of the
national anthem and for eating a Polo mint.
The best teacher, ever, at Stand was Jasper (Mr
Swift) but boy could he inflict pain on yo ass. Rumour has it that he walked
from his home in Glossop, along the train lines, to Whitefield when the trains
were off due to snow.
Don't remember you, but mate, this is a great
site.
Antony Rowley SGS 77-82
Hi Martyn,
Here's a few more treasured memories of my time
at Stand.
Circa 1980: Pete Coyle's "irrigation
channel" dug with a shovel from a huge puddle on the back field down
to Hairy's Pond, flooding said water course on to the railway embankment.
Spending the quid for my OS map on toffees then
lying to Haggis that I'd paid him weeks ago and getting away with it. How many
lads managed to hoodwink Haggis over the years?
Watching Simon Goodwin's face when Babs Bunting
informed him that she owed him forty seven whacks for crap homework. The little
worm got away with it by running out and phoning mummy in tears. He should meet
up with Babs now and take his punishment like a man.
Still, to this day, when I write a date I do
"dotty dates" like Haggis told us all to do all those years ago.
Getting a grilling from Jock Weir for not being
ticked off the list at Phillips Park Hall car park. I got there and set off
back to School before any teachers had got there.
Watching with much amusement as Crouchley hit
Andy Parr on the back on the hand with the edge of a metal ruler and drawing
blood for laughing at Adam Waters because he didn't know where the Phillipines
are. Andy Parr would have got Thousands for that today.
Mr. Hunter (not Tabs) showing us how Hydrogen
relights a glowing splint by sticking said splint into to a conical flask of
Hydrogen and blowing the flask into a million pieces all over the room.
Phyisics teacher Stevie Fenwick doing the
hilarious "Dissolve your own eyeballs with Sulphuric acid fumes"
trick. David Blaine should use it in his routine.
Strange looking teachers. There was one c.1981
called Peter Sellars who looked remarkably like a stoat. Jasper, enough said.
My favourite was Derek Beresford who took third year Maths set one in 79/80. He
used to wear the same dark green trousers and dogtooth jacket every day, his
hairline started on top of his head and his hair looked like seaweed.
Rock hard women teachers. Babs Bunting. Nia
"Nelly" Jones. Mrs Mcginn (Biology). Frightening.
Fit women teachers. Mrs Oliver (nee Fisher).
Everyone was gutted when she got married. Lauren Chatburn. Tall brunette. Nice.
Jenny Saunders. Everyone loved her. Bless.
A lad in the year above me: Gordon Simpson
(Hartley Hare). He was extremely intelligent but definitely a loose cannon. He
used to go round the playground singing and dancing for people (he wasn't a
talent) then he would flip and start pulling your hair and punching you. He got
a beating or two for that. Poor lad.
Being on report. I wasn't an angel at school and
was on report a few times for various transgressions of the rules. For the swots
out there being on report basically required you to give the teacher your
report sheet at the end of every lesson for them to sign and write a comment.
To get off report you had to do this for two to three weeks and all teachers
comments had to be better than "satisfactory" and the gits knew this.
So Friday afternoon I'd hand the sheet to Haggis and guess what he'd write.
That's right: "satisfactory".
Getting thrown off the bus en masse for playing
tunes on the bell.
That's about all for now but I'll be back. It
was very sad looking at the demolition pictures of the old place.
Antony Rowley SGS 77-82
Hi,
Got to your web page via friends reunited.
A good site for bringing back memories, some good and some not so good.
As for the picture of bloody Phil Haggis, well I did need a new dart
board. I noticed a few things that I remember different, but I know my
mind plays tricks.
I think you were in the same year as me as I
note that I was in the same form as some of your 1C register, although I
started off in 1A. www.nfy53.demon.co.uk tells more.
Now what do I recall different? Well, the teams
in gym were Apples, Bananas, Cherries and Doughnuts.
I remember Ms Boulanger taking us all to
Liverpool Uni for a debating contest, which we won, and then swanned off to the
student union with the very expensive silver cup we had just won. I think the
coppers were there when we got back. I never had the joy of seeing
her knickers, but I do recall that she nearly got killed in a car accident. I
don't know if you remember Mrs Fletcher, nee Miss Tiffin, (english &
geography). Now she used to wear stockings and sussies as I found out each week
in room five. God bless those short skirts, naïve women and raised floor
at the front of the class.
Now here's a story for your page. I don't
know if I'll get a quod for this but I did have a nice money making
scheme going for a year or two. It was illegal, it was bad, it was fun and I
never got caught :-)
I used to play the 'cello and so was allowed
into the music store next to the music room (29 I think). Ok so
what? In the corner of that music store were lots of boxes. Each box
filled with blank, new, unused report forms. So I helped myself to a couple
from each so it wouldn't be noticed. A handful of pens and biros and my
uncanny talent for illegible writing and Young's report forgery business was on
the go. For a small consideration you could get an improvement on your
report. Never made any one top of the form but somewhere reasonabe in the
top half. Can you find any one who will admit to having bought one?
I still remember many of the masters from my
time there not just the sadistic Haggis, he only picked on me 'cos of my long
hair, and now I've bloody well gone bald! And Hynes from Biology who
would prowl the school at lunchtime to try and catch those of us who brought
sandwiches, before they were made "legal". I also remember
rather fondly (is that allowed?) Mr Lumley (deputy head and acting head before
Dr Barnes) and Fred Hill, who had faith in my ability at pure maths, which
unfortunately I didn't.
I also remember a chosen few who went to
Manchester Poly for a course on computing. I failed the selection tests
and couldn't go. Ha! I showed them! Guess what I do for a living
:-)
Hey I could bore you for hours but I have to be
up and out to work in the morning.
BFN
Nev Young SGS 1966(1a) - 1972(7m)
p.s. After reading a few letters, Yes the bomb
in the desk did go off, room 7 back row in the corner, 1st April forget the
year but I think Bullough got the blame for it. No the piano wasn't
hoisted to the balcony but some dozy master cut down the rusty bicycle and it
fell onto the piano.
Hi Martyn,
I'm having a good laugh and reminiscing about
old times at SGS. Attended 1970 to 1977. I now live north of
Sydney in Oz. I work in mental health crisis intervention. I am still
friends with and keep in touch with a few other Old Standians, Chris
Bainbridge, Pete Lockett, Paul Godby (Chimp) who lives in Sydders. Next
week I'm visiting Ken Lomax in Christchurch for a week of golf. I have many
anecdotes, usually pythonesque, which was well in vogue. On the last day
of term Chimp and I boarded a no 6 bus. We saw Hairy Hynes and decided to
follow him instead of getting off at Besses o' th' barn. We ended up
Eccles way, lost but on that old bastard's trail. I never was taught by him but
saw him reduce many juniors to tears ('cos he could). We just wanted to
challenge his authority because we could. When he got whiff of us he wanted to
know my name and I kept replying " I dunno. Where do live?
Er......Spain." The steam was coming out of his ears. The object of class
was to take the piss out of teach, so all were aware except the teacher. One
day I will grow up!
I would like to know what happened to anyone who
knew me, Chimp or Ken. Also teachers such as Miss Jones, Ray Russell, Benjy
(after his indiscretions), Hairy, Hudson, Tabs, Haggis, Clarke etc.
I can contacted at bazroyd@bigpond.com.au
or via wwwfriendsreunited.com.uk
Thanks to Paul Cowsill for the mention.
I'll tell Paul Godby.
Keep up the good work.
Paul Conway
Hi, I'm Steve Hamblett
Went to Stand from 71-76, House was Siddall, I
was there when Dave Crook did his black pudding trick on the head (Mr Hudson)
at morning assembly, as far as I know Dave is still in Radcliffe, not far from
me although I've not seen him for some time, he used to live on Astley St (off
Stand Lane).
I left Radcliffe In 1980 to live down south and
have only been back for a year or so, only a few months ago I went to
Whitefield with a mate of mine (Billy Partington, also an old Standian) for a
few beers, we were gutted to find that not only had the school closed but it
had also been completely demolished.
Nice to see it is still remembered, theres a few
of us in Radcliffe still, around my age (40/41), although most Standians
(especially the girls) seem to have fled the area for good.
Steve Hamblett
Martyn,
The more I view the site, the more impressed I
am and find that I am neglecting other things in its favour, with the exception
of golf of course! I think the un-named boxer in the 1955 photograph could be
Malcolm Maybury, (Mayberry?) who introduced me to my first cigarette, in the
toilets.
I would dearly love to contact some of the old
boys of my year, especially Sam Wilde, who I have tried to contact many times
over the years, to no avail.
I am quite suprised at some of the bitterness
that shows through in some of the mail I have seen. I agree that some of the
masters were a bit over the top by today's standards, but I look back with
pride and gratitude. Maybe 27 years in the Army helped to mellow my outlook.
Keep up the splendid work.
Joe Conway
Martyn
I've just discovered the many pages of your web
site and read the letter from Harris Fraser and Gez Diamond and all the lads he
is still in touch with, some of whom I started out in 1B with, Tony Schock,
Anthony Alexander and others who I came to know, Kev Cryer ( not the one who
now teaches at Bury GS surely) Pete Preston, Mick Mills ( we went to a Four
Tops Concert in 1970 looking like a right pair of pillocks in blazers, two tone
trousers, red hankies and the silver buttons), John Hewitt who I went to
Prestwich Parish School with upto 1966.
I left in February 1972, after doing 1 term in
the 6th year, not doing subjects that I wanted to do or even could do, so
joined the Midland Bank.
It's a great site, the memories are all still
very strong, I have kept all my reports ( sad git that I am ) many of the Old
Standians magazines, and attend the OSA Dinners on a regular basis. I was
particulalry upset to see Haggis so frail and unwell at the last dinner.
It was an act of pure vandalism to demolish the
school and I will never forgive those responsible, there were many happy
memories of my 5 year sentence.
Many of the masters who were there between
66-72, Killer Crouch, Ivor Jones, Chippy Wood, Haggis, PB2, Les Lumley,
Crossfield, Doc Barnes (the Beak), Eddie Hynes, Joe Whitworth, Dick Short, some
are probably no longer with us but all gave us their very best, and some their
very worst, but did any of us do badly for the experience, I think not. And
compared to today's youth, some of that style of schooling would make a very
welcome return.
Nowadays I am celebrating 25 years of marriage,
with two sons, both of whom have done their time at Bury Grammar, they had to
experience a little of what I treasured, and I am living up in rural
Ramsbottom.
It is fantastic to see so many names that I
remember, keep up the great work
Roger Bowden
1966-1972
Hi Martyn,
My younger brother Neal came upon your
website when browsing for Old Standians and he and I happened to be together at
my mother’s this evening (a fairly rare occurrence) and he got me surfing too.
It is fantastic to read all the stories and be
reminded of names of long ago – I guess we are all getting to the age when
memories are mostly what we can look forward to!
Anyway a bit of background for your website and
Old Standian historic records;
* I was at Stand from 1967 to
Dec 1973 in 1P, 2P then 3S (I think), 4S, 6M, 7M and 8M for a term. I did
my O levels early (with Trevor Pickles) and went on to study Engineering
Science at Oxford (St Catherine’s)
* Rob was one academic year ahead – 1966 to 1973 in 1B, 2L,
3E, 4L, 5E and went on to study mechanical engineering at Leeds
* Neal was two academic years behind – 1969 to 1975 in 1P,
2P, 3S, 4B (he thinks), 6M, 7M, 8M and he too went to Leeds to study mech eng.
As you can see we are struggling a bit
with class references. I am hoping my Mum can point us in the direction
of old school reports, Speech Day programmes etc to sort it out. Do you
have any “code breaker” that could help us with what the class designators
meant and the chronology of the system changes?
Here are some funny stories that those in my
classes might recall;
Very early in my Stand career (maybe even 1st
year) we had the pleasure of Neil Kershaw not only for PE but also for
History. He was a pretty cool dude. We were waiting in Room 22 (one
of the huts) for Kershaw to arrive to start class. The class was so
preoccupied with its usual pastime of pandemonium and messing around that no
one noticed Neil Kershaw until he launched himself onto the front desk and
stood astride it like a surfer. This was made all the more shocking by
Kershaw’s propensity for walking around school in sports kit which included
very short shorts and very short hairy legs! He certainly got everyone’s
attention, yet said nothing, calmly got down from the table and started the
class. At age 12 that seems like real Class!
Speaking of his hairy legs, my everlasting
memory of Neil who looked after the fledgling basketball team was him regularly
standing in front of the team after lunchtime practice in the gym, scratching a
perpetual itch on the back of his knee saying “the match is off”…. Our
basketball matches were regularly called off, it seemed…
I have a couple of memories of a very bizarre
English teacher called Toseland – a little fat round chap, known for liking the
occasional small sherry at lunchtime. Like all English teachers he
carried a huge bunch of keys on a long chain, but unlike other English teachers
he took to wielding the keys as a weapon. Swinging the keys like an
Olympic hammer he was wont to smash them down on desks, books, blackboards –
anything to get attention and strike fear in an unruly class. On one
famous occasion he chose went too far and actually swiped of the class hard
cases across the shoulder tearing a gash in his blazer! At which the boy
stood up, toe to toe with Toseland (who wasn’t that tall), called him several
names and stormed out to report him to the Headmaster! I think the issue
was settled out of court by a very diplomatic Doc Barnes….
However even Doc Barnes was stumped by his next
episode. In an English class in one of the large classrooms off the hall
immediately after lunch one afternoon a lad was caught staring out of the
window. Toseland said “if you find what’s happening outside so
interesting you had better go and join them”. So the boy stood up
thinking he was being sent out of class. “Through the window…“ continued
Toseland, at which point the boy opened the big sash window and promptly
climbed out - straight into the arms of the Headmaster returning from a late
lunch! The school yard being a big drop from the window we didn’t see
this and knew nothing about this until the boy was marched back into the
classroom by the Headmaster. “This boy tells me you told him to climb out
of the window”, said Dr Barnes, clearly (and very reasonably) expecting to
prove the boy was lying. It is difficult to remember who was the most
embarrassed, Dr Barnes or Mr Toseland who sheepishly admitted it and apologised
to the Head for being foolish. Needless to say Toseland was not an
English teacher at Stand for many more seasons! These are the things that
shape young minds!
Unfortunately I cannot recall the names of any
of the boys involved but maybe other Old Standians from my alumni will.
And I am sure Rob and Neal will have their own
stories to offer you. Meanwhile, keep up the good work on a great
website!
Regards,
Hi Martyn,
This is a first contact for me, my name is Mike Passant and I attended Stand
from 1953 to 1960 .My contemporaries and friends in those days were Tony
Gale (who retired as a tax Inspector about 3 years ago and disappeared to
Tenerife), Pete Rose, Gabriel Jacobs ( with whom I met up again 4 years ago),
and Howard Jacobsen,along with Bob Lee, and Gabriel's close pal Stuart Kershaw
who became head boy.
I haven't a clue what happened to Pete,Bob,or Stuart,after they left for
university.
Well,a bit about me at Stand .In the first few
years Sammy Medlar was Head,leaving and replaced by Austen Williamson, as cold
a fish as you could poosibly meet,( and about as skilled at "man
management" ).He once hauled me into his office for the sole and ludicrous
purpose of measuring my trouser bottoms ,as he was insistent on branding me as
a "teddy boy".The trousers in fact measured a smart 15 ",and
stood out in stark contrast to the 22" bags worn by most of the kids ,some
of whom had legs as thin as pipecleaners,giving the impression they could blow
away in a breeze. Williamson's prejudice was also influenced by my extremely
short "crew cut", which imparted a sort of "American High School
Kid" image to me .
My big hero at Stand was Joe Whit, the Maths and History teacher who taught
this nervous twitchy 1st former how to acquire some self confidence by
encouraging me simply to unlock and develope my potential, (something I'm
afraid that was totally beyond the comprehension of "Haggis"the Gym
teacher who took absolutely no interest in any of us as individuals).
I became involved with the boxing club because of Joe Whit and have a picture
which you can borrow showing the members around 1954/55. I went on to become
school boxing team captain (never losing a bout in all my years at Stand
),school athletics captain ( I broke the senior discus record as an
intermediate, and went on to add over 35 feet to it before leaving,as well as
taking Lockley's shot putt record on my way to becoming Lancashire School's
Champion in 1960) .I had a brief spell as cross country captain as well in my
final year, but voluntarily gave this up as I was not improving (in fact I was
going backwards ,as heavy weightlifting was not the ideal training for distance
running! ). Neither Hargreaves or
Williamson had any word of congratulation for me on my athletic successes
(perhaps they knew that what I had achieved was "sod all" to do with
them,it was in spite of them;in fact their indifference might actually have
been an added spur to me ).
I could add a lot about Howard Jacobsen's antics
outside school, but I'm not going to ,as we were good pals. I last saw him when
I'd just got married, and quite out of the blue he appeared at our front door
with a new girlfriend ,that would be in 1963.
What of the other masters? Well I was present in
room 20 sitting about 8 feet away when Barry Speed planted a punch on the jaw
of his nemesis Gordon" Boris"Knott ,our form master and Spanish
teacher, and shot out ,never to be seen again.That would be in about 1958,and I
was amazed that one other of your earlier contributors had related the tale.
Ivor Jones the wood work teacher used to have us in stitches, he'd pull out one
of us and hold him to total ridicule, declaring in his Welsh accent that
his "creation" had been chewed by a dog . It was an excuse for us all
to laugh for about a minute until tears streamed down our faces,not at our
classmate ,but at Jones, as if a bloody piece of wood could possibly be of any
relevance in our lives!
Joe Bogg, our English master (who really was totally bonkers) would appear at
the start of a period with just his head peering round the classroom door,
saying or doing nothing for perhaps 20 seconds or so,and then bellowing at us -
"Hey Nonny Nonny"! As 1st formers we found this rather
unnerving initially , but once you realised he was simply potty, it became
quite a reassurance that you yourself, were by way of contrast, reasonably well
adjusted( in spite of all that Stand could, and did , throw at you ).From what
I have read of Howard's novels he refers to Stand under a derogatory false name
,and in quite disparaging terms .
I didn't go to university, though I passed all my 4 "A"levels,
instead joined what later became Royal Bank of Scotland ,where I became a
manager in 1977 ,ending up as manager of Newcastle Upon Tyne Branch 1990 --1994
,when I retired at 53 years of age.
I have a good life, am married to Barbara, my
teen-age sweetheart, and have 2 grown up sons who live in Spain and in
Switzerland respectively, we live 16 miles west of Durham city.I still go
skiing when in Switzerland, climb Munros in Scotland,( only 23 to go ), still
pump iron,and travel the world on birding trips (I recently saw my 5000th
species in Sulawesi, (Indonesia) and we go off to Antarctica for the very first
time, on Dec31st.)
I should be delighted to hear from any of my
contemporaries from Stand , especially Tony Gale or Pete Rose.
Mike Passant
Hi Martyn,
I'm amazed to hear from you so soon! Looking through the file of memorabilia I
keep on S G S ,I see that you in fact have the photo of the boxing club members
,sent in to you by my pal Gabriel Jacobs, who borrowed it from me.Your reply
(dated Aug 2001) was quite superb, commenting on Joe Whit's tie ,and even
better the fact that his trousers and jacket "look like he started wearing
them for school when they became too scruffy to wear whilst he was gardening".
Concerning the kids on the picture , here
goes,back row left to right, next to Joe Whit first: I know the face( not the
name), then Fogg, Nelson ,Geoff Galley, Heilpern, and of course McDonald; front
row left : little Butterworth, Ian Walker , Brian Walker , then me , then Stan
Black , then Horner . THe last two ended up in Australia ,Horner going in about
1956 , Stan in 1983, he has been in touch with you (in fact it's Stan who first
told you about Barry Speed's fight with Boris Knott).
I looked up Joe Whit in the late 80's (he lived
at 123 Bury Old Road Heywood ) but when he came to the front door he didn't
seem to know me, and when I told him who I was, he didn't really react as I
expected , I think he just pretended he knew me . I felt he'd lost it and
wished I hadn't called really, it was quite sad . In the 1960's I'd always
exchanged Xmas cards with him and the Joe Whit of old would have greeted me
like a father.
Martyn, if you could update me as to
anything to do with Joe Whit after 1960 I should be very grateful , I was a
young kid from a council estate (Hollinhurst Rd. Radcliffe ) my parents
divorced when I was about 6, and he was the most positive influence for the
good that I encountered through my teenage years .
Kind Regards
Mike
Martyn,
I was at Stand from '71 to '78 and I'm sure I
know you! The name sounds
familiar anyway. I was permanently resident in the artroom firstly under
Cliff Baxendale and then under John Moss...if you'll forgive the
expression...I almost ended up under Benjy Brittain once too but that's
another story...any chance of an old school photo of you so I can confirm
whether I'm going senile or not?
Great website by the way, made me laugh and
nearly cry at the same time,
terrible how you get nostalgic with old age
Hope to hear from you soon
Glyn 'Snaily' Bailey aged 45
I came across your wonderful web site and I was
hooked! I attended SGS from 1968-1976 I
think. I had the pleasure, if that is the right word (only joking), to be
School Captain.
It all seems a long time ago but seeing the web site was like opening the flood
gates.Over the next few days I shall gather my memories and send them on.
The one immediate memory I have is for getting a report that said CHEMISTRY
3%,the comment was 'He has made a vast improvement this term'
Anyway congrtaulations on the site.
Best Wishes, Jonathan Barnes
Hello,
I was idly looking on the internet and typed
"Stand Grammar School" out of curiosity and came up with this site
and thought I would let you have a few lines. My name is David Pomfret and I
attended SGS from 1971 to 1978, anyone remember me? Overall, I have quite
positive memories of my time there and reading some of the other contributors
it brought back many reminisencies of Haggis, Hairy, Towey and a few others,
anyone remember Graves, the maths teacher? We had him in the second year (I was
hopeless at maths) and remember that he had a habit of hitting you in the back
if you did not get the factors right on equations or something or other. Towey
was another one, he used to flick your head with the arm of his cape and, on
another occasion, he got the board rubber, went all over the board with it to
get it very dusty, then proceeded to rub it into some lad's hair!!
Paddy McCaff was another one who stood out, I
was in the mass belting session when the whole of our year group had to lie
down on the tennis courts and he went round us all in turns with the gym shoe,
ouch!!
Another memory of Hairy (Hynes, the biology
teacher), this lad in our class, the 3rd year from memory, I thing he was
called Dave Ellison, was chewing on a piece of silver paper, the remains of a
toffee wrapper, and was spotted by Hairy. Upon informing him what he was, Dave
was made to stand on a chair, holding it aloft and repeat " I am a fairy
princess, this is my fairy crown, aren’t I beautiful, Do not eat silver paper
again boy" How we laughed…
Smelly Smethurst was our maths teacher in the
4th year and as I was useless at maths was informed "Pomfret lad, I hope
you can handle a brush as that’s what your going to do when you leave here,
sweep the roads"
Another memory - the 7th form geography field
trip to Scarborough in about March 78, we had to share the hotel with a party
of 6th form girls from somewhere like Bishops Stortford.
Younger readers might find stuff that the
teachers did scary by todays standards, but I don't remember any particular
bullying which now seems rife, just piss-taking which on the whole was fairly
good humoured and we did'nt need any of the anti-bullying initiatives which
seem to be everywhere now, Paddy/Haggis etc would have quickly put a stop to
it.
I kept in contact with one or two lads in my
year group for a probably three or four years after I left, Ian Cheeseman, Bill
Jackson, Maurice Greene, Robert Norris but have'nt seen any of them now for
quite a while, although I have run into Paul Sandiford a few times recently who
seems to be doing OK.
To summarise, I would'nt change anything much
apart from getting rid of kiddie fiddler Britton, that kind of thing has no
place in education, or anywhere else for that matter, past, present or future,
although he never bothered with me personally.
I have not been back since and now live in
Handforth, near Wilmslow, Cheshire, I left Radcliffe in 1988.
Keep up the good work
David Pomfret 1P 1971
Martin Harper here, Sept 1971 to Sept
1979. The extra years detention was spent in the Upper 5th following a
‘must do better’ performance at O Levels. Worked out in the end as I left
with 10 O’s and 4 A’s and did Economics at Manchester.
Must firstly tell you that my father, Brian
Harper, went to Stand 1939 to 1944. He died in 2000 but I still have many
things he kept from School. Most treasured is his old school scarf.
I used it for school and still do! Mr Smethurst, Maths, had one
similar. He kept all his old exam papers and also a copy of ‘The
Standian’ for July 1948. This has two notable things in it, firstly what
must be the first published work by Henry Livings (subsequently famous
playwright/author) titled ‘The Philistine, or Art For Art’s Sake’.
Secondly and arguably the more momentous is the arrival of a new teacher, and I
must quote here ‘As Mr Emerson is leaving in June, Mr P B Hargreaves will then
join us as Instructor’. Nearly 60 years on we are still talking about
him.
To my teachers, I remember you all, some
more fondly than others. Gordon Cain for his enthusiasm and nurturing my
interest in economics – I still love it to this day. Helen Russell Orton
for her passion in teaching English to a group of lads as much in love with her
as the subject. John Belfield for bringing Geography alive, ‘Jasper’
Swift for giving us Maths homework every night for 2 years only to be rewarded
with a ‘A’ at O Level – we deserved MUCH more. Johnny Shuttleworth for
making me read my English books but enjoy them at the same time, ‘Hairy’ Hynes
for his sex education lesson in Biology (we had already learnt that from Julian
Yates’s ‘magazines’). Others that I don’t think have got a mention
elsewhere in the letters include Dave Pierce, Al Smith, Harrison, Eustace, Dave
Bowers, Jan Olszewski,
Things I remember include;
Roy Evans, a great lad and handy footballer,
being killed in a road accident in the first year. We got to know about
that on the morning of the ‘Marathon Hike’. Two lads turning up in shorts
on the first day of school (sorry DCT you know who you are). Gary
Thompson, my buddy from junior school, having to leave. Not making it
onto the first year football team, who went undefeated that year and got school
colours. Still to this day being able to draw an outline map of the
Lancashire coastline – we know who is to blame for that one. I flew to
the Isle of Man a few years ago on a clear July day and looking out of the
window I got a birds eye view of what I had been drawing in Room 7 all those
years ago. I still don’t have the exact words for what I felt, although I
think they are mostly good. Going hiking with Killer Crouchley was
insanity at the best of times as he could walk faster than most of us could
run. Edgar Cowards shin pads (the old bamboo & leather ones) being a
foot wide, Phil Bailey ‘retiring hurt’ most of another schools cricket team
with a lethal spell of fast bowling, Tony Settle playing for Lancashire 2nds
whilst only 15(?) and knocking one of Mr Mitre’s supposed googlies into the
Synagogue car park, Playing for the Tennis team with Gary Cropper, Running with
Colin Barker on the Cross Country Team, Waiting for the team lists to be posted
on the notice board outside the Gym (substitute again!).
High on the list are a couple of school
trips. The Geography field trip to Scarborough in 1978 was brilliant,
mostly for the antics of Wayne Jackson, Rod Harrison, Phil Bailey, Mick
Waring. Their constant chatting up of the waitresses in the hotel, allegedly
for bigger breakfasts, was funny, although they did get what they wanted,
bigger breakfasts I mean, or do I? There were the usual shaving foam
fights, toothpaste in the ears and talcum powder bombs. It was the
Grosvenor Guest House and we had to write up our days notes in the downstairs
function room before we were allowed ‘to play’. The other trip of mention
was the legendary football trip to Germany/Belgium at Easter in 1979.
Wayne Jackson has mentioned this in one of his letters. Paddy McCafferty
got us all in the best shape of our lives which helped when it came to the lack
of sleep and amount of alcohol we drank. One bloke at a club we played in
Belgium even brought on a bucket of black coffee at half time. We never
lost a game, all the pitches were ‘all weather’ due to the harsh winters, and I
scored a goal reminiscent of Geoff Hurst (Wayne’s words not mine). Other
culprits on the trip were Graham Ward, Rod Harrison, Marc Campion, Alex
Bamford, Vallers Valentine. The trip took a positive turn at the Hotel
Zur Kripps, near Koblenz, when on the last day a party of similar aged girls on
a school trip booked in. Ahhhhh, Easter ’79….
Good Buddies included Julian Yates, Alan
Giersh, Andy Cuckill, Dave Ellison, Barry Bowman, Lawrence Mann, Dean Ogden,
Dean Jackson, Jeremy Reuben, Steve Ward, Dave Feingold, Jeremy Tasker, Graham
Clarke and lots more.
‘Visions of boyhood’ as the school song says.
Well, these are some of mine.
Martin Harper
Hi Martyn,
I was listening to a couple of my colleagues at
work chatting about their days at a school they both attended, and was propmted
to check on the web if there were any photos of SGS, and discovered your
execllent site. I knew SGS had been demolished as I was in Manchester for a
meeting a year or so ago (I do return from time to time!) and parked off Church
Lane to get the Metro. On my return I strolled up the Lane to see the place I
had been incarcerated in from 1964 to 1971and was shocked to find SGS gone.
Even though I hadn't really been sad to leave the old place in ' 71, it was as
though part of my past had gone too! Still got my 6th form tie, though...
I was also amazed to see my name in the
contribution from Geoff Breckin, who I do remember, as I do Ken Parkes and a
few others, including Paul Whiteley who I think must have smoked himself to
death by now, given the rate he got through them in 1970-71! Think he became an
English lecturer at some university or other. I certainly remember the
"lift" from the guy on the dumper during cross country, AND the
steamed up car! I also remember other incidents, including the bike hung over
the piano, the exploding desk, the graffiti incident and most of the masters in
their various hideous incarnations mentioned by others ; "Doc"
Barnes, The Erg, who I seem to remember resembled Boris Karloff, Hairy Hynes,
Haggis, of course, who I don't recall particularly persecuting me, though I
think I did make Percy's acquaintance on at least one occasion, Ernie
Shlesinger, Johnny Frith and the lump of desk as his persuader, Chippy Wood and
John Eckersley, Revie, Wimpey Longstaff who would knuckle you hard in the chest
and demand "Sing!", (and I do recall a similar event to the tuning
fork missile!), Benjy Britten who I thought was a bit odd at the time, later
confirmed by the newspapers, and kept well clear of, Fred Knox (Spanish?),
Toseland (yes! Uncle Fester!), even Old Joe Whit from my first year. Can't
really remember all my old form numbers exactly, 1D? 2L, 3S? 4L, 5S, 6 and
7LW?… but it's surprising how much you do remember, including being so crap at
Latin that Mr Slack wouldn't let me take O level....
I also went on the Selva ski trip, and remember
being impressed that Brien Crossfield owned his own skis, (wooden of course!)
and a snowball fight in the town with some American kids. Didn't manage to ski
terribly well, being short (still am!) and not sporty at school, though funnily
enough I got heavily into climbing and mountaineering in later years.
Even though I came close to getting in, I gave
up on joining the RAF - I was clearly too intelligent for them, (though
I'm actually back in pilot training - on gliders!), went to Uni to read
Geography with an emphasis on physical geog - Chippy would be pleased! -
, had a great time and got a good enough degree to get me a place at King's
College London to do a PhD. Sadly I didn't get any postgad funding, it being a
particularly lean year, and settled for a Master's degree, and a career in
university libraries, where, amongst other things I manage the computer
systems, and lecture part time.
I live in East Yorkshire now, married with two
sons both at Uni, and a daughter currently swamped with GCSEs.
Chris Leach
Hi Martyn, Came across the site purely by
accident. Trawling the net on behalf of a relative researching the Prestwich
origins of the family. Typed in Thorp + "Church Lane" because they
used to live in a big house in Church Lane, Prestwich circa 1900. Fifth hit was
your site because of Church Lane, Whitefield and someone listed my surname in
2L. Then found references to myself under Thorpe and a picture of 7M in 1969.
Have just e-mailed Ian McDonald and Kev Parrott. Well done.
So here goes. Ken Thorp 1962 -1969 1D 2L 3E 4L
5E 6M 7M
1D New building, form teacher taught French,
surname began with H, maybe Harding, he was really good to us. I made a living
selling stamps from Venezuala etc. to others in the year group - my dad worked
for Tootals and his friend worked in the post room. Chosen for choir by TJ
Longstaff, then it got worse because I was chosen for the semi-chorus.
"You have a true Alto voice, not the fag end of a treble." Over next
few years sang with Halle Orchestra etc. - see later for outcome. Got hosed
down by Haggis after missing open goal from 5 yards.
2L Got put in here with the Language, Literature
and therefore Latin scholars because I came in top 30 in Year 1 exams. Problem
was I had really high scores in Maths (Smethurst did not seem pleased I had
done so well) and Science but nothing special in the rest. Mr. Schofield could
not comprehend how such an incompetent had got into the group. In the first
exam Latin exam I got 92% and came bottom, I think the next lowest was 98% -
for the first time in my life I switched off in lessons. Had "Old
Joe" Whitworth for Maths and did so for the next three years. He was also
my Housemaster - what a lovely, gentle man he was. My attendance started to
fall off quite rapidly - I simply wasn't enjoying school anymore. He spotted it
and understood that experiencing failure on a daily basis was having a
significant effect on me.
3E Back amongst the scientists. Mr Revie for
Physics and he had us solving Moments problems with two pivots. Loved it.
Was put in Set3 for French, hated it.Got young
teacher, no idea. Kept keeping us all in, even the innocent, so I thought get
your monies worth. Began co-ordinating the efforts of the miscreants in order
to improve their effectiveness. He didn't last long,nervous breakdown I think -
I hope it wasn't just our class.
Physics, Chemistry and Maths were the only
subjects that kept me going.
4L Mr. Revie told my Dad I would be doing
Physics at University but could I possibly stay out of the Diplomatic Corps since
he didn't want to go to war.
Love of Chemistry disappeared in the hands of a
complete wazzock.
Got punched in the stomach in 'O' level Music by
TJ when he thought I was taking the mick. He put the score for "God save
the Queen" in front of me and I said I didn't know the tune. I couldn't
read music - I had memorised Handel's Messiah, St. Mathew's Passion etc. from
start to finish. He didn't believe anyone could do that.
Mr. Schofield had left but I was too far behind,
Mr. Slack and I came to a mutually beneficial arrangement - he involved me in
Latin lessons as little as possible.
Had the Head of English - some of the group were
taking 'O' levels a year early - he was superb. He told me that my thought
processes were different from the rest of the group not worse, just different.
For the first time in over two years I actually wanted to go to school, good
staff treating me as an individual. Had "Old Joe" been working behind
the scenes? I like to think so.
5E Love of Chemistry revived by Brian C. Really
got my act together in those subjects where there was still hope.
Got my own back on T.J. I had to play an
instrument as part of 'O' level music. The flute was a disaster so he tried
timpani. Imagine the scene, school orchestra performing in front of a packed
hall. One piece had the music getting faster and faster towards the end.So
there I am on the tambourine. Which speed will the orchestra follow, mine or
his? MINE because the audio input beats the visual input every time. I
apologise unreservedly to those violinists who went home with bleeding fingers
that night but the sight of his flailing arms will live with me forever. Chippy
Wood was standing next to me during assembly next morning and he whispered, "I
am to tell you that if you do that again tonight, you will be dead by the
following morning."
Had Smethurst again, this time for Pure Maths -
by the end of the year the feeling of dislike had become mutual, never did know
why we didn't get on. I got a grade 1 at 'O' level just to annoy him - maybe he
knew how to motivate me.
6M 7M What a set of teachers to have:- Hill,
Broadbent and Lumley. Ended up with three grade 'A' s and a couple of 'S'
levels. "Fred" Hill had so much impact on how I solved problems that
I cannot even begin to explain the effect he had on my life afterwards.
I hope my shoe print was still there on the
ceiling when the place was flattened. It was indeed so perfect that even the
most incompetent Scene of Crime Officer could have tracked me down - sanding
down the soles of my shoes did cross my mind at the time.
Was " I'm sorry I'll read that again"
really so funny? "It's dat old debbil mooon" etc....
How could I have been a Senior Prefect when I
looked so young in that picture of 7M?
I just do not recognise the school that is
described in some of the postings.
Haggis taught us in 1D for Geog, never had a
problem with him - still remember the Warm Wet Westerly Winds, the indian ink
drawings, reading maps, contours, trip to the Cotton Mill, Ship canal. We still
got on in Year 5 when my hair was much longer than the rules allowed, he just
used to look, shake his head and smile. He took time to see me after the 'O'
level mocks and say how pleased he was with my results - this from a man who
hadn't taught me for 4 years and I wasn't in any of his teams.
It seemed to have become a haven for bullies and
perverts. Maybe it was starting when we left, some of the appointments were
frightening e.g. Hynes. I know that he was the first human being that I ever
loathed. He knew that the prefects held him in contempt but he knew we were
going. He tried it on with several of us but we always stood up to him and
never gave an inch. So I expect you would like a Hynes story.
Hynes came out of the Biology lab and spotted me
and several other prefects standing outside the library at lunchtime. The time
of year would be early December. Nearby was a younger pupil minding his own
business but in Hynes's eyes in the wrong place at the wrong time and we were
ignoring it. Down he came, straight past us, shouting at the lad, "What
are you doing there boy?" "Waiting for Christmas sir", came the
reply. Incandescent rage was the response, not helped by smirking from the
prefects, soon to be followed by violence. At this stage I very calmly and
pleasantly informed our dearly beloved Mr. Hynes that Christmas was a younger
pupil who had just asked our permission to go and change his library book, so
his friend was indeed waiting for Chritmas. Oh how we laughed as he walked way
and Mr. Revie didn't want me in the Diplomatic Corps!
Feel free to include my e-mail address
ken@bonby.freeserve.co.uk
Must stop, time for my medication. Matron thinks
these lap tops for the criminally insane are a really good idea.
Ken Thorp
Martyn,
I happened to be doing a little web surfing, and
came across your excellent web site for good old Stand Grammar School.
Browsing through brought back a whole host of memories, mostly good I have to
say - the bad ones have long been forgotten!.
Perhaps I could supply you with a few of my
personal details? My name's James Alderson, currently known as Jim, but was
called Jas at
school. I was at Stand from September 1955 up to summer 1962. Some of my
contemporaries were Brian Sly, Peter Hayes, David Grimes, Ian Birtwell, Tim
Williams, Neil Watts and a notorious character called Brian K Jones aka
"Flab" Jones. He was always being caught smoking behind the woodwork
room, and sent to the head for good "swishing". Would you happen to
know if any of the people I have mentioned have been in touch with you ?.
look forward to hearing from you,
Best Regards,
Jim Alderson
Hi Martyn,
I too like many others, stumbled on the site and
having spent a couple of hours prowling through it came upon a note – the last
on the page, from James (Jas) Alderson who mentioned me and a few other
contemporaries from the class of 55 to 62. You forgot Dave Posslethwaite and
Mike Wheldon, Jas!!
I left the old school – largely with fond
memories – like Jas, the bad ones are washed away by the passage of time. After
studying at Loughborough I ended up eventually with a job that took me out to
the Far East where I worked for 25 odd years prior to retiring back to the UK
(Sussex) in 96.
We stuck that out for a few years and eventually
got sick and tired of Gordon’s ideas on taxation and decided to return to the
Far East where we now live in Malaysia.
I still well remember “Haggis” et al and was
amazed to hear that he was still alive in 2004 – is he still with us? Also
Brian Crossfield who was a nice chap that had the dubious distinction if I am
not mistaken, of having the entire Chemistry class of my era fail the “A” level
paper. No worries Brian, it didn’t change my life!!
If you can let me have Jas’s email address I
would be very grateful.
Regards
Neil Watts
Hi Martyn,
I stumbled across your excellent site the other
night and find that I must have been a contemporary of yours, although we were
not in the same year and I only attended from 1968 to 1970, when I moved down
south.
I am Dave Williamson and the last class I was in
was 2R, with Neil Larah and Greg Berry, among others. I remember many of the
boys and masters mentioned in other postings with great affection for the boys,
and for most of the masters.
Haggis was my form teacher for one year, and I
think that it was Jock Weir for the other. I thought that Haggis was a great
laugh, for all his
weird practices, and he even gave me a lift to school sometimes, as he passed
the bus stop on Ainsworth Rd. One thing that no one else seems to have
mentioned was Mr Hargreaves' habit of chalking things in mirror writing on
'Percy'(such as a question mark), so that the chalky imprint would be left on
the trousers of the unlucky recipient. I hope that he is still with us and in
good health.
Some other masters, if I'm correct, were:
Percy Basil (Baz) Holden, who ran the badminton
club and played boogie-woogie on the school piano.
Malcolm Jones, who ran the Scouts (do you
remember boys reeling out of the scout-hut from the effects of the resin
fumes from building
fibre-glass canoes?)
'Junkie' Jensen, the cycling chemistry teacher.
I once took a small amount of perfume to chemistry, as we had been told that we
would make
soap. Mr. Jensen had the boiling hot test tube with the soap solidifying in it,
when I offered the perfume to him, which he duly added. The
perfume, having a lower boiling point due to being mostly alcohol, caused the
whole contents to be shot across the room, fortunately not
hitting anyone, and him to bluster: "I knew that would happen!"
Mr Thornton the art teacher (and
housewives fancy)
Of the boys(feel free to disagree),
Neil Larah was my chemistry partner(I guess he
was neater at writing up than I; EVERYONE was neater than I!). I see that he's
now a dentist. Does he do any national
health work?(my teeth are terrible!) I left long before he was in a position to
give out sides to anyone.
Leon Swerling was a terrific bloke, with a
gentle sense of humour (is he now a solicitor with a Manchester law firm?) and
may have been my physics partner.
Greg Berry was quick, sharp and intuitive.
Hefferen? was always a good laugh.
Andy Foot.
Phil Wood.
Simmo (had the most hair.)
Curfey.
Schofield? (left at he end of the 1st year?)
Phil Moir (self-assured and straight talking,
should have gone far.)
Mellor? (sadly died, not long after appearing on
kids T.V.)
'Tarz' Reynard (a.k.a. Foxy)
Stewart?(School Captain and county badminton
player.)
John Mitchell (a long time friend of mine from
primary school; always hilarious, whether setting a tent on fire at scout camp,
or turning
teachers purple with rage). The last I heard of him (about 1974), he and Tommo,
of the chip shop, were keen on football team supporting. Where is he now?
Toby Lyons, who joined our class in mid-term,
and had the longest hair of ANYONE (I wasn't there when he led the strike).
David Cohen was affable and self-effacing.
Raymond Bragg was older than us, and used to get
on the bus at Ainsworth Rd. He was the first person I knew to have a Sinclair
Micromat radio (self assembled?). Did he go into electronics? Still, where's
that Sir Clive Sinclair now?
Ian Phipps, a good friend.
Carlton Sillett (he went into the family
undertaking business, and I last saw him when he buried my grandmother).
Gordon Ashworth, terrific sprinter, would have
made a great 'terrier-like' mid-fielder (Did he leave for Manchester Grammar?).
As for myself, I moved south to St Albans in
1970. The schoolboy shoplifting techniques were more sophisticated there!
From there I went to Sussex University, and
stayed in Brighton for 20 years, was Sussex hangliding champion (and still hold
some records),
moved to Norwich for three years, had Alex, a son, moved to northern Italy for
three years(you can see a dual take off that I JUST got away
with, taking off with my partner Sara, at http://www.alexisparkinn.com/photogallery/Videos/2006-5-15-duall-hang-gl
iding.WMV from the 'diving board' at Laveno), and am now back in Crawley, West
Sussex.
I was once decorating, in Brighton, and noticed
a SGS reunion dinner advertised in the paper covering the floor. I thought:
"No one will go
to that"; I now see, from your website, how wrong I was!
I seem to remember that Haggis' claim to fame
(according to HIM) was that he'd sent Alan Ball off for swearing, when he was
refereeing a
schoolboy match; mind you, he was saying this only two years after Alan Ball
got a World Cup Winners medal!
I must have got on with Benji at some point, as
I remember cleaning his car once. He always used to wave his empty glass in the
air, at dinner time, demanding a gin and tonic, that was never forthcoming.
Sad to see the old school gone,
Dave Williamson.
Hello Martyn…by chance I came across the web
site… good stuff… I will spend some time re-living good old times.
I will send a letter when I get more time.
I was at the school from 1956 – 1963, my
brother Graham also attended from about 1961 – 1967.
Regards from Canada
Ian Birtwell
PS if you need to know more about what I have
been doing in science and sport (rugby) do a web search for Ian Birtwell…there
are only 2 in Canada, both in British Columbia, but my namesake is associated
with land developments and not fisheries and environmental research… from which
I have just retired…
Hi Martyn.
Can I also say a big “thank you” for all your
efforts at setting up such a brilliant site.
I was at SGS from 71 to 78 (I too did an
additional year to re-sit my O levels – I got 3 the first time round and
actually got my arse into gear and applied myself, getting another 5 in my
“extra” year). It is great to hear the still fresh memories from so many
forgotten old mates. I see their memories were ostensibly good, peppered with
some bitter sweet times too.
Is any of the following familiar to anyone?
Annual doctor inspections – “cough now please!”
The Art room full of stupid papier mache shapes.
Buying your “lunch tickets” and having vague memories of some poor boys getting
them subsidised.
Biology lessons – dissecting bull’s eyes and frogs legs. Being shown two lungs
in formaldehyde – one normal and one from a dead smoker.
Cross country runs into Phillips Park and there being a “longer” option, coming
back via Ringley Road.
The Black Pudding expelling (mentioned elsewhere) – brilliant!!
Playing table tennis in the outbuildings at lunch.
Football before school and at lunch on the courts near the railway line.
Playing throw ball “tag” with your mates. All run away from the one “on” if he
hit you, you “froze” on the spot and joined him throwing at those not yet hit.
A real team game!
Bunking off to the pie kiosk in the bus station. Fab pie and ketchup!
Geography field trip to Scarborough, sharing the hostel with the girls from
Bishops Stortford - (sneaking into their rooms despite “sirs” patrolling the
corridors!
Climbing the “Three Peaks” in under 8 hours, and getting a certificate to prove
it (still got it!)
The Art teacher, who later ran an arty type shop in Bury Precinct.
Assembly – surrounded by the teachers in the main hall.
The two staff rooms upstairs, affording glimpses of the smoky, drink filled
dens.
“Percy” the pump. Must have been bought specially – no-one is a size 14
surely!!
Cold showers – a la “Kes”
I still have the “Standian” from 1976. There are
brilliant “Police file” profiles on Alan Leslie Smith (Big Al, Noggin), Frank
Graves (Digger, Gravy, Sherlock), Phil Hargreaves (H or Haggis) – for “hobbies”
– he put “working with stone”!!, Peter Murray (Sludge, Gobber, Dick, Prism) and
Peter Martin (Mick, Tuffy, Doc).
Other interesting(??) articles include Legimus
(remember the senior debating society?? No neither did I!!), The Fell Walking
Club, Aeromodelling society (WHAT!!), Community service visit to
Prestwich Hospital (RS Cookson comments “the majority of the patients I met
were schizophrenic, which means that any conversation with them flits from one
subject to another, with no obvious connection” – a bit like talking to Haggis
then!!.
I attach a couple of scanned pics from the Standian (76) – one is of the Fell
Walking Club (writer features in silly hat (very “in” at the moment, but I
looked a right knob then!)), and one of the Staff Soccer XI. (prize for getting
all teachers names).
And finally – Yes I admit, I was the school porn
Baron. I made a small fortune buying, selling and swapping sticky fingered
copies of Penthouse, Playboy etc to lots of eager recipients. It all went
horribly wrong one day when I tripped (was pushed!) down the stairs and a
magazine fell out of by bag, landing centre page (mammoth breasts) fully open
in front of the deputy head! I got the cane for that, but unlike Carl Marx, I
still feel the market supply and demand theory will never let you down as a
lesson in life.
Keep up the good work.
Julien Yates (5H for a while!).
Hello Martyn,
My late father, Arthur Tomlinson, attended Stand between 1943 and 1951. I have
2 copies of The Standian college pamphlet, one from July 1950, the other from
July 1951. I attended for one year 1985-1986. I have scanned in the July 1950
issue and have attached a few pages to the email. It might be of interest.
David Tomlinson
These will appear eventually on the Facebook group
under ‘Files’. Apr 2020.
Once again visited the site and read some of the
marvellous experiences of those who attended over the years. Particularly
interesting was Spud Fletchers memories. Spud was a mucker of mine during the
late 60's and we spent many a happy hour over at his parents house at the
corner of Heywood Road and Bury Old Road. I seem to remember his entry on
Friends Reunited. Also met another Old Standian after almost 35 years, one Gary
Armitage, who reminded me that he left before O levels and it was suggested to
him that he probably wouldn't achieve much in life, step forward Squadron Leader
Armitage, and fellow Blue too. We have met up at a couple of City games this
season with our boys.
Great work on the site Martyn, keep up the good
work
Roger Bowden
1966-72
Dear Martyn,
I came across your website a few months ago, but
there's so much material on it that it has been slow going getting through it
all. And a great deal of it seemed to relate to a time after I had left : I was
there from January 1960 (my family moved up from Bristol part-way through the
school year when I was 11) until 1966. So I hesitated to get in touch …until
this evening, when I found the contribution of Geoff Ingham, whom I remember
well. What's more, he seems to remember me. He even remembers my initials
correctly. But what he doesn't remember accurately is what happened on April
Fools' Day 1966. He gets the incident right, but the victim wrong.
There was a plan - brilliantly executed, as he
rightly recalls - to capture the pupil who was taking assembly and deposit him
at the Girls' School (in our time - I don't know what happened later - the
Headmaster took the main part of the assembly and he then left the hall, with
the masters, and handed over to the Head Boy or his Deputy who finished things
off with announcements and sent the boys on to their lessons). But the hapless
victim wasn't me : it was the Head Boy, Paul Hindle. I was recruited by the
conspirators (led, I recall, by one Jackson : does anyone recall the Youth
Against Hunger march which he and I organised in 1966 ?) because they needed
someone to take the assembly over from Paul once he'd been kidnapped. And, as
the Deputy Head Boy, I was the natural choice.
The lectern was moved from its normal place on
the stage (on the room 3 side) to the library side, in order to get Paul to
stand on that side and thus facilitate taking him down past Joe Bog's room
(room 7) and outside to the waiting vehicle via the New Building. Paul was duly
abducted and I recall very vividly that when I had taken over from him and
tried to get the school to leave the hall in the usual way they all stood
still. Ah ha, I thought. Another conspiracy ! Quick as a flash, I did what you
should always do - attack the weakest link. So I told the first formers in the
front row to get moving. They were normally left until last and, doubtless
shocked into compliance, they got moving and everyone else followed and the
revolt was over. End of the excitement at the Boys' school. But in the
meantime, of course, poor old Paul was going through his ordeal (or did he
enjoy it ?) at the Girls' School.
I googled Paul the other day. I discovered that
he was a Senior Lecturer in Geography at Salford University but took early
retirement some time ago and now writes books about maps etc.
I was in 2L and 4L with Geoff. The 'L' was for
Latin, of course. Our form masters were, respectively, 'Harry' Schofield and
the Welshman, Clipper (don't recall his surname). Both fairly obnoxious from
time to time. Clipper got his nickname from his habit of hitting people across
the head as a punishment. He was going to do it to me - and my friend Mike
Mellor - once because he thought (wrongly) that one of us had cribbed his
homework from the other. I denied it vehemently and Clipper backed down. A
lucky escape.
Like your other correspondents, I have many
vivid memories of the very mixed bag of masters who taught us. I have seen
mentions of Wimpey Longstaffe and his music lessons, which I dreaded. But he
taught me Maths in the third and fourth years and he was very good. And he
really came into his own when he started music appreciation lessons as part of
general studies for 6th formers. I still recall his talks about Britten's War
Requiem.
Ernie Hanson taught me Maths in the first and
second forms. If anyone stuttered over anything he'd say, "This is Stand
Grammar School, not the Grand Stammer School" - a bon mot doubtless
visited afresh on each succeeding generation.
I have seen a number of mentions of Hairy Hynes
(can't recall how his name was spelt), none of them flattering (understandably
: he didn't come across well). He had a Mini, which he used to park in Church
Lane and in 1965 some of the prefects (of whom I was one) had the bright idea
of covering his car during assembly with signs saying something like "Win
a Mini in the Heinz 57 Competition". Alas, we were caught in the act and
carpeted by Austin Williamson. We thought we were all going to be sacked as
prefects. But after our telling off that was the end of it.
My favourite masters were Goofy Hunter (also
sometimes called 'Tab'), Johnny Frith, Ralph Bailey (who left before I did to
take up a promotion as, I think, headmaster of another school) and Spike
Cotterill (spelling? - it was one of the daftest things I ever did when I
dropped his French classes at the end of the 6th form in favour of going on to
do Latin at A level).
I left Stand to go to LSE to study Law. When I
graduated I returned to Manchester and I have been practising here as a
solicitor ever since. I'm currently a partner in a firm called DLA Piper, which
has offices all round the world (although, as a commercial property lawyer, my
remit doesn't extend beyond England and Wales !). I was followed at Stand by my
brothers Philip (who died quite tragically at the age of 17 in 1975 from
measles encephalitis : he's buried in Stand churchyard across the road from the
school), David (who now has an importing business in Bury) and Richard (a
pensions specialist who still lives near Bury but works in Leeds). My sister,
Sue, went to the Girls' School from 1966 to 1973 (I think). She lives in Lymm.
Five siblings all at Stand might be a record, I suppose.
I'm not in touch with anyone from Stand,
socially, nowadays, although I instruct Jonathan Seitler QC professionally from
time to time and I discovered a couple of years ago that a specialist dentist I
was being treated by was also a contemporary of mine (whilst I was waiting for
the anaesthetic to take effect !). And Martin Abrahamson (now much slimmed down
from the boy I knew in 2L) is very much a force in the business community in
these parts. Stephen Conn - a year above me - is an insolvency practitioner
here. And I know of one or two other solicitors who practise here, although I'm
not in contact with them. Michael Black (probably now in his early fifties) is
a QC. Michael Field (another contemporary of Geoff's and mine) is a financial
consultant.
Like Geoff, I should very much like to know what
has become of others of the '66 vintage. And perhaps I'll even join the Old
Standians - 40 years late !
Best regards
Steven Jennings
Hi Martyn
I notice from the email links on your SGS
website that both Ian Levine and Warren Johnson are deceased.
I vaguely recall that Ian was one or two years
above me & seem to think that he was a prefect at a time when I was
particularly awkward to deal with ("normal" then, "awkward"
with hindsight!) I think that I have some old SGS annual magazines knocking
around somewhere & he is in the prefect's photo with David Hudson centre
stage. Could probably scan them - the entire things - and convert into PDF's if
you want, but unless you have broadband then I'd have to send to you via
CD/DVD.
Warren's name rings a bell also, although it may
be a totally different person.
I've searched your site as best I can using
Google and this seems to confirm Ian's memory. Very sad news, as I'm 43 and so
presumably he has died somewhere before reaching 45 - at his prime of life,
basically.
One day, one day, I keep thinking I'll take your
site and turn it all into a database-driven version. Just for fun, not with any
intention of going live with it because it is your baby. Perhaps now is the
time to dabble as it is the sort of thing I do but, well, I'm short of things
to do!
Regardless, please do keep up the work. Every
now and then something else pops up and back I go to see if anyone has
mentioned it.
Best regards
Simon Tushingham
SGS 1974-79
Stand VIth Form C 1979-81, inc an extra term for my sins and which resulted in
the most extraordinary spectacle of Tabs Hunter running along the balcony to
hug me just prior to the Xmas hols. A Scotsman being demonstrative is a memorable
thing! Fantastic bloke.
Hi Martyn
Just thought I would cast yet another eye over
this fantastic site as, unfortunately for me all those who started their Stand
life in Sept 1966, this year is that awful time that is "40 Years
On".
Who would have thought 40 years ago that the
song we all sang would actually come to pass. And the even more frightening
thought is that in some 5-7 years time it will be 40 years since we passed
through those gates for the very last time. Some one pass me a tissue, that day
will live on for ever.
I started out with Johnny Hewitt, having been
the only two boys to have come from Prestwich Parish School, though at least
one, Mark Alcock, went to Bury Grammar. John only went to Stand because he
never tried for Bury, I think he would have easily got in there.
My first day was a nightmare, we had all
assembled in the school hall, it must have been the day before school started
properly, and the forms were being called out, each boy's name was called and
allocated to the first forms, 1A, 1B, 1C, 1D, my mistake, I didn't hear 1B, I
heard 1D, form master - Mr Hargreaves. Next day at registration, each boy's
name was called out and they duly went to stand quiety in the corridor leading
to the new block, past the gym. Why was I still sitting there, the names had
passed the "B"s, I was getting very worried. When the class was empty
but for me, Haggis asked for my name, Bowden Sir came the reply, he
disappeared, the lads outside were laughing, I was sitting quaking in my shoes,
he returned and dragged me off to Room 5, Mr Wood's Form 1B where there was an
empty desk in front of John Charlton, waiting for my backside to be parked. The
humilation, as Mr Wood muttered, some boys, John Charlton whispered,
"pillock".
It never got much better, fabulous days eh
My fondest memories are those of whom I would
call my mates, different ones each year as we swapped classmates and took our
various options, John C, Anthony Alexander, Mark Levy-Benchetten, Rob Parkinson
from the Eccles No 6, Anthony Schock, Dave Whittle (the nights we spent down
Sedgley and the dance at Hope Park Girls school, Dave and Tony could always get
served at the "offy" cos they were tall lads, Tony could grow real
sideburns aged 13/14, Mick Mills and the Motown concerts, Amo and the City
games, Pete Preston, Rick Battin, Phil Rowe, Spud Fletcher (and his little
sister - his older sister was at BGS with my older sister) Frazer Harris, Steve
(?) Mort aka Trom, the Prefects and the 100 word essays on the inside of a ping
pong ball, how mad was that; the Masters, Haggis, Don Revie (mind your car please
sir outside Maine Road, all down to him) yes Miss B who always struggled with
the top windows and who's skirt rode up over long long thighs, curse the
invention of tights, a French Master from Room 23 ? always used to come into
the room and complain about boys who fart, Joe Whit, Killer Crouch, kept me in
after school and forgot me, the cleaners let me out of the TD room at 5.30, my
mum was worried sick, Doc Barnes, Lumley, Fed Hill, Chippy Wood, PBH2 and
badminton in the main hall, a PE teacher called Holden(?) Haggis used to call
his class Holden's Holiday Camp, many many more who I will remember as names
get floated before me. I could go on for ever.
I recently got in touch with Amo through Friends
ReUnited and we met up at the City of Manchester Stadium just after his 50th,
crap game warm beer, no change there then.
I have seen others very occasionally through
Masonic contacts
I notice Charles Khan, of Berg & Co is a
contributor, and know of him through Neville Johnson Offices Limited, I also
married a girl from SGS Girls, and work with a bloke called Barry Filson ( any
relation ?)
Where are the girls we knew at PPS who went to
SGS Girls, Mandy McDonnough, Sheila Wentworth who married Rick Battin, Andrea
Jenkins
It all seems so long ago
Come to the Association Dinner all of you and
let us revive old memories and friendships
Wonderful stuff
Roger Bowden
1966 - 1972
Hi Martyn
I've just received my OSA Centenary edition. Amongst the articles is one about
David Tomlinson and a recording in Stand Church!
I still have a 'vinyl' of a recording made in the Church, which I did think
featured Zadok the Priest, but the label only mentions Fauré's Requiem and Bach
Cantata 14 - Sleepers Wake. The record appears to be dated 1968 and the
conductor was David Britton. The school choir was accompanied by The Northern
Phoenix Orchestra. I sang in the performance- Alto if I remember correctly!!
I think David T is also correct in that the BBC made the actual recording. My
son tells me that we could actually transfer the recording onto a digital format
- so if anyone is really interested - I may be able to provide a copy!! - I
would have to rely on my son's technical ability though! I'm not sure whether
you'd be able to pass this information to Anthony Wilding- I can't seem to find
his email address anywhere.
I attended Stand from around 1965-1971. I would like to get to one of the
Annual Dinners, but sadly the last Friday in November clashes with one of the
few fixed things in my diary, where I have work in the Lake District!
I hope the above is of interest to someone. Would you be able to add my email
details to the site??
Regards
Brian Muir
Hi Martyn.
I've just stumbled across your site and, I suspect, like many others, was
a little overwhelmed. I was an internee from ' 73 to ' 78 in Philips, a
classmate of a contributor, Peter Brown, (Hi Pele). My first impressions
of the old pile were mixed as 1P were banished to the
"temporary" cowsheds near the gym. Our form teacher was AW Denholm
and I can still remember the registration call:
Abrahams (colin)
Barlow (mark)
Brown (peter)
Chisnall (ian)
Crompton (andrew)
Dilworth (paul)
Endler (steven)
me
I start to lose it after that though I was
closely followed by Daz Horne ( of whom more anon).
Reading your pages has brought back many
memories though some references by contemporaries leave me blank. Who was this
goddess Jenny Saunders? I'm lost, though over-powering perfume comes to mind.
Strangely enough two of my most enduring memories involve the aforesaid Daryll
Horne who, one day in first year, decided to charge stark naked over the desk
tops, all the while being observed by a horrified Miss Jones from a
nearby classroom. Also it was Daz who first discovered the joys of public (very
public) self abuse. Quite an eye-opener.
I left Stand in 1978 to join the merchant navy
along with Martin Livingstone.The company we joined promptly went bust. I spent
many years in the gulf hauling jet fuel in a war zone. I suffered nary a
scratch until being practically incinerated on a tugboat. Oh well.
I was shocked to hear that Ian Levine has gone.
He was a good friend and a real character.
I hope to see more from you in the future.
Graham Farrington (Faz)
grahamfe@tiscali.co.uk
Martyn - Don't know you but you're doing a great
job! I've laughed for ages reading the stories from fellow captives that
were subject to abusive, degrading and downright violent assaults by our
captors. It was scary but it was also great fun. I was there from 1961 to 1966,
arriving from Prestwich Parish School as a reasonably intelligent, if somewhat
obnoxious, little kid. I went from 1B to 2L - a promising start studying Latin
and Greek. From there my school career followed the trajectory of a
watermelon falling off a roof.
Harry Schofield who taught Latin and Greek was
obviously immersed in the subjects but failed in a most spectacular way to
impart the slightest knowledge of it to me, and I suspect most of the class.
His words when handing back my homework will live with me forever, "
Lupton, these are the incoherent ramblings of a raving lunatic". I was obviously
failing but there was no effort to rescue the situation so I started on the
downward spiral that was to be my time at Stand. Besides, the Beatles were
changing the world and in my future career as a pop icon, Latin was not going
to be as essential as a Vox 30 amplifier or a kit of Premier drums. I piddled
my way through 3S, actually leaning sufficient Spanish to enable me, years
later, to order 2 eggs boiled for three minutes and receive 3 eggs boiled for 2
minutes.
By 4L, I had lost the plot completely. Latin and
Greek were a completely lost cause and by this time physics and chemistry were
equally impenitrable. I can still recall the contorted look of undisguised and
complete contempt that Revie gave me when I walked in one of his lessons
wearing a CND badge. He confiscated it, and very nearly took off my lapel
in the process. I was really pissed off at this because it wasn't just a corny
tin badge, it was a really nice steel one that I had worn, specifically to wind
him up. I saw him about 15 years ago at my son's parent's evening at Bury
Grammar School and he was a nice bloke - I mentioned the CND thing but he
wasn't biting. Didn't give me my badge back either! The thing I failed to
realise in 4L was that two of my good mates were a whole lot smarter than me
and could multi-task. They could piss about and learn at the same time. Me - I
could just piss about. Dave Blume is now an OBE and President of Jaguar Motors
in Japan and I don't know where John Dean ended up.
There are so many stories and memories that it
would take pages to recount them. The masters I recall the most:
Ernie Hanson - good guy. "Lupton, I
sympathise with you that you've mislaid your homework but sympathy without
relief is like mustard without beef!" ....and that to a vegetarian!
Haggis - need I add more to what's already been said? Rarely have
so many unattractive qualities come together in one person.
Chippy Wood - always enjoyed his lessons even though I seldom understood them.
Was that me or him?
Roberts (Me-a-wobba) - I shall never forget his demonstartion of refraction
where a pin was supposed to appear bent. Whilst writing on the blackboard
somebody (I wish I could remember who) actally bent the pin. The man was never
coherent but seldom have I heard anybody quite so incoherent!
Stirzaker - I liked him. Just a straight on sort of guy and he taught
well.
Frith - Maintained discipline with half a desk top, specially shaped at one end
so he wouldn't lose grip as he pounded your arse.
Knox - I vividly recall him extolling the virtues of Spanish life and the
siesta - with which he availed himself at every opportunity. I always imagined
him to be a closet Marxist.
Wimpy - clearly an unbalanced and troubled soul. Teaching music and you don't
like the Small Faces? Don't think so!
Dobbin - great if you were good at art. I was soon able to add art to the
growing list of things for which I showed no discernable talent whatever. I'm
not sure he was ever aware that I existed.
Pupils I remember, in no particular order
(besides those mentioned):
Bruce Pratt - daft name but a hard guy so nobody
told him! Good fun.
Colin Hutchinson - shared my dislike of all things academic and we spent hours
staring out the same windows. Stabbed the back of my hand with a pencil - I
still have the mark.
Colin Radiven - family owned Collins Autos in Sedgely Park. Talked him into
buying "Aftermath" by the Rolling Stones so I could hear it. I
couldn't afford it.
Stephen Oliver-Watts - "I'm appalled at the number of footprints on the
lavatory ceiling".
Russell Turnberg/ Jon Ash/Laurence Jerome - three Jewish guys who needed a
drummer. We practised and practised but never actually played anywhere. Jon was
talented.
Stephen Conn - I owe him apologies because I think I was rather unkind to him!
Tony Airey - all round good guy and great footballer.
Keith Taylor - one my good mates that I lost touch with.
Brian Taylor - I stabbed his arse with a fork in the canteen and was called
before the Beak to convince him it was an accident. Just avoided the
"swish"
Stephen Colbeck - strong silent type and clever with it, often wonder where he
ended up.
Ian Pringle - quiet and literary
Ted Percival - parents owned a shop in Crumpsall - good company and funny guy.
Stephen Hesford, Dave Beswick, Barrie Davidson, Stephen Levy, Inky Bolton,
Meeweezen, Birtwell, John Power, Ken Wrigley, Russell Cohen etc.etc....
I recall a skiing trip to Norway with Brien
Crossfield that was great fun. Rather predictably, I was able to add skiing to
my list of incompetencies but thoroughly enjoyed the apres-ski. I remember well
falling off a ski-pull with Dave Blume and as I rolled over, my ski came off
and started on a perfectly straight downhill trajectory. It hit the leg of Ian
Black, a prefect a couple of years my senior and he was eventually snowboarded
down the slope on a stretcher, in agony; the ski snapped in two. Going skiing
and breaking someone else's leg has to be a first - probably the only
distinction of my Standian years.
Who was it that half sawed off the leg of the piano
so that it collapsed during Founder's Day (I think)? Who floated an
inflated Durex from the balcony at the end of term? Who stole and drove
off in headmaster Williamson's car - a huge Humber, if I remember
correctly? I can't remember now but they were outrageously funny episodes
in an otherwise undistinguished 5 years.
Despite this appalling record of
underachievement, I've managed to scratch a living in the brewing/pub business
and am now half retired. I've now reached the stage where it really is
"Forty Years On" and what was a meaningless dirge, sung on autopilot,
suddenly has meaning. "Glimpses of boyhood......"
Keep up the good work!
Ken
Hi Martyn,
Thanks to your brilliant website I was able to
get in touch with an old
friend from Stand, Craig Peck who moved to the USA and ended up becomming
a semi-pro footballer. It's odd that because he was rubbish when he was at
stand ;-) It was great catching up on the last 30 years and seeing
that
Craig was doing well.
Unfortunately we lost touch again due to me
having a long period of
illness, my email address changed and I lost Craig's. If you're out there
Craig, drop me an email at dave@lewisnet.plus.com
Thanks again Martyn,
Dave Lewis
I started at Stand Grammar in 1953 and left five
years later with three o levels.
My eduction and achievement was a huge
zero. Maybe for the girlst school, the school motto Sto Ut Serviam was
because they were training us all to be waitresses.
I hated the school. The English Mistress
took pleasure in being sarcastic to anyone who said anything imaginative,
usually me. She destroyed my confidence, in spite of which, or maybe
because of her, I became a journalist.
No one questioned the fact that I as a bright
person, was definitely underachieving. We had no career advice except for
someone asking us what we would do when we left. I became a typist.
I once read a good book, title currently
forgotten which puts forward the theory that the function of schools is to make
sure that the majority of children achieve nothing and are satisfied with their
non-achievement. Society would become unstable either with too many
achievers or with too many dissatisfied underachievers.
I got 15 per cent in Maths, later, all by myself
as an adult I studied O level Maths and got an A, I also went to University,
joined Mensa etc. etc. none of it with the help of that poxy so called
educational institution.
I think it was different for the boys. At
the time I was there, they got one or two lads into Oxford or Cambridge every
years. We had about three in the whole history of the school.
Sorry the boys school has descended into
rubble. They should have pulled the Girls school down instead.
estelle beninson
Hi Martyn,
I'm Peter Kirkman, and I attended Stand from
72-79. You've done quite a job putting this lot together. Room 32 must have
been demolished as well, that was my favourite room, high up and accessible by
two routes, bit like the bridge on Starship Enterprise.
I stumbled across this website entirely by
accident as it appears quite a few people did. Felt alienated at first, it all
seemed before my time and rather Greyfriars. Though to be fair the place was
rather Greyfriars, it's only when I see Stephen Fry on the TV that I recognise
anything from the present world that has any connection with SGS. I know he
wasn't at Stand but I think you all know what I mean.
After a while I recognised some names, Wayne
Jackson and Stephen Hamblett were two. Then of course the stories about the
Crook incident poured forth from the early 70s intake. I remember it well, some
of us knew Crook was going to do it as he didn't do any boasting before hand,
he had a quiet determination. I also expected the attacks on Hargreaves, though
I never called him Haggis, he was more Gestapo than Greyfriars and I wasn't
going to be conned. Thought some of the attacks on the other teachers were
unfair though. Clarke was our form teacher in the fifth year, he was nasty but
he was alright. Hynes the biology teacher always describing our society as like
the fall of the Roman Empire, looks like he was right after all. Thought Miss
Jones was misrepresented by some contributors, she was unique.
Cheers
Peter Kirkman
Hi Martyn
Just been sent the link to your website by an
SGS contemporary (Pete Kirkman. Thanks Pete!). It took a while to pluck up the
courage to log on. As with many of your correspondents the memories I have of
Stand are mixed, some of them quite difficult. I'm prompted to write by the
notice posted by Mark Horrocks of the death of Ian "Jez" Levine. I
grew up just round the corner from Ian and he was in the year behind me at
Stand. My most vivid memory of shared schooling is from about 1977. He
will have been around 15 at the time but already made a rather striking figure,
his stout build squeezed into school uniform and his full beard making him look
like a young W.G.Grace. On the day in question the driver of the No 6 (Hilton
Lane/Spring Vale stop anyone?) refused to believe he was under 16 and wouldn't
let him on the bus at child fare. I don't think it helped that Jez was smoking
a roll-up. Jez's understandable response was to stand in the road in
front of the bus and put two fingers up to the driver yelling
"Facist!" I don't know if he made it into school that day. I got to
know Ian pretty well in the early 80's when we were both "between
jobs" and used to hang about the pubs in Prestwich Village. I'm sorry to
hear of his death, he was a great bloke.
David Glentworth (1972-1979)
Martyn:
I've never met you but I wish I could.
You've done the civilized world a great service.
This comes from Ray Clayton, now of Stanford,
California. I attended SGS from 1937 to 1944. I remember all the
characters mentioned in the Ian Hanson piece who were there during my
time, including him and his older brother, Colin, who was my
contemporary. Their father taught beginning physics very well but I
remember him most sharply for his extraordinary dedication to the
production of the school plays, The Merchant of Venice, What
Happened to George and Youth at the Helm among them. The star of
the last play was Stanley Josephs, a great talker who went on to make a
name for himself in the Manchester University Union. Portia was
wonderfully played by a young man whose surname was Fish and who had a
most deceptively female appearance and voice -- until hormonal changes
kicked in.
I have so many deeply etched memories of Stand
that I hardly know where to begin. Perhaps the first afternoon out
on the football field is as good a place as any. I forget the
details but of course the total number of shivering, yellow and black clad
creatures did not divide evenly by eleven. There was a residue of
about seven or eight who were either too fat, too emaciated, too small or
otherwise "challenged" (to use today's pc term) to have been selected
as team members. I was one of the skinny ones. We were
"the left overs." We were given to Monsieur Gasquet who neither
knew nor cared the least about football but saw it as his duty to have us
running about while trying to keep his pipe lit, despite the constant
drip from his hooked nose. On that cold, windy day we needed no
encouragement to keep on the move. We had three incredibly fat
Jewish boys, Leon Glickman, Sidney Bowman and Edgar Cooper. Edgar,
the fattest of all, was made goalie on the theory that he would
block most space. The rest of us divided ourselves into two
mini-teams and competed in kicking the ball into the goal. Gasquet, in
his brown raincoat and trilby, his back to the wind and constantly relighting
his pipe, was satisfied.
The fact was that none of us in the left overs
was any more interested in football than Gasquet himself and we quickly
developed a sort of perverse pride in being left overs. Out of that
first interaction came some of the closest friendships of my SGS days --
especially with the Jewish boys, since, though nominally a Christian, I
was a non-believer. My friendships with Sid and Edgar lasted until
their deaths. Sid Bowman became a highly successful solicitor. In
one famous case he won by getting the bailiffs into the Manchester Town
Hall. He died young of a heart attack. Edgar qualified in medicine at
Manchester and had a very successful career in general practice in East
Kilbride. He was a colorful, gregarious character, fond of good food and
wine, much in demand as a speaker at dinners and worshipped by his
patients. His high living cost him his kidneys: he spent several
years on peritoneal dialysis and died in the mid-eighties during an attempted
kidney transplant. I wept for a week. After my emigration to
the US in 1959 I had made a point of visiting him whenever I was back in
the UK and I saw him about six weeks before he died.
I didn't keep in touch with Glickman but I
remember him as a remarkable mimic. He could take off the masters
to a T and every Monday morning during the war he would replay the ITMA
radio show that everyone had listened to on the previous Friday night, with all
the catch phrases and funny accents: "Zeess iss Funf speakink"
and Mrs. Mopp: "Can I do you now sir?" and Mona Lott: "It's
bein' ser cheerful as keeps me goin'!" I'm convinced the war
would have been lost without ITMA -- and we would have been lost without
"Glicky".
Tony Nayman was another Jewish lad I was close
to. He was a classical music freak who sometimes conducted
symphonies that only he could hear in his head, though I don't think he
ever played an instrument. Somehow Norwood got to know of his musical
bent and gave him the job of selecting the records that were played to
accompany the processional entrance of the masters and prefects at morning
assembly. Tony did a pretty good job of selecting solemn or inspiring
pieces suitable to the pompous religiosity of the occasion but he lost
his job when, one day, he played "Rhapsody in Blue". I don't
know what became of him except that he published a short humorous book
called "The Man in the Barrel."
I recall Leslie Preger as more serious than the
other Jewish boys -- not so given to the witty, wisecracking view of life
as one big joke. I have recently realized that this was the result
of his being raised in a strictly observant family. We lost track
of each other until some time in the 60s after I moved out to
Stanford. He had been in San Francisco for some years and somehow we got
together. We still get together from time to time over lunch and
"the old days" are always good for a few chuckles. Leslie has
had a distinguished career as a diagnostic radiologist. Leslie's
brother, Jack, was at SGS two or three years behind us so I never really
knew him. Recently, however, through his contact with Leslie, I have got
to know him and have learned of his remarkable charitable medical work
among the poor in India. In fact it was an email from him, headed
"Sto ut Serviam" that prompted me to try googling "Stand
Grammar School."
Lest I give the impression that I had no goys
among my friends, let me mention some. Ian Hanson mentions Alan
Smith, the art teacher. Alan and I knew each other from the age of 6 in
elementary school ( the "British" in Heaton Park). He went to SGS a
year ahead of me and we've kept in touch ever since leaving. He has
had (and still has) a stellar career as creative artist, museum curator and
world-renowned horologist. He specializes in restoring clocks of
historical interest and in the design and construction of sundials on
commission for historic buildings. He and his family have visited
us in California several times.
Another close friend was Derek Findlay, a tall,
handsome chap, a formidable cricketer and my first climbing companion.
(We bought 80 feet of rope and tried it out on Laddow Rocks with marked
lack of success.) He served as a navigator in the war and survived to
graduate from Cambridge as a geologist and work in the Geological Survey.
He told me that once, when on leave from the RAF he visited the school
wearing civvies. Bill Evans spotted him and evidently thinking he
was still a prefect, called out, "Findlay! Get those boys to
stop their stupid antics!" Derek joined me in promoting the
formation of the hiking club under the guidance of Mr. Whitworth -- our
one lasting influence on the school.
Then there was Cedric Cross, a small, blond,
curly-headed boy with whom I shared an abiding interest in biology --
especially in searching for pond-life with our microscopes. He went
on to be a biology teacher at a grammar school near Carnforth but his career
was tragically derailed. He went out one night to view the
Morecambe illuminations from a hill, fell down a limestone scarp and broke his
neck. Last I saw of him several years later, he was hemiplegic,
able to get around in a specially equipped car and managing to teach and
more or less take care of himself. He had been a keen hiker and mountain
climber.
There are many others whose names I remember and
whose fates I would like to know. One in particular stands out: Roy
Chilton (or was it Shilton?) He was something of a genius, always
first in all his exams but strangely asocial and withdrawn. I once asked
Alf Housely about him but all Alf would say sotto voce, was, "Very
unusual boy, Chilton."
I can't avoid recalling the wartime school
dinners, prepared by Mrs. Dawson under the critical eye of Miss Forbes,
whose haughty manner was attributed to the fact that her dad was manager
of the Halle Orchestra. On the whole the dinners were pretty good
-- especially the shepherd's pie. With rationing the way it was,
those dinners were a major part of our sustenance. We were,of course, expected
to say grace. Edgar Cooper would oblige with, "For what we are about
to receive may the Lord make us truly thankful and bless it to our metabolic
processes."
On firewatch you could get a different view of
the dinners and their provenance. Going into the kitchen at night in
search of some milk or a snack, there was a sound as of rustling leaves: rudely
disturbed cockroaches were hastening from their feasting on whatever waste --
potato peelings etc. had been left standing about.
I could go on and on, but I already have, so I
won't. I'll say a little about myself in case there's still anyone
out there who remembers me and cares.
When I started at SGS in '37 we had to attend
Saturday morning classes, which was a pain in the ass -- literally, as it
turned out. After Saturday classes the masters would clear off, pronto,
leaving boys to lark about and get into mischief. On one such occasion
someone started tossing an ink-well around. It bounced off my head
and broke a window. There was the inevitable investigation on Monday
morning at which Norwood satisfied himself as to the details, in
particular as to the trajectory of the missile. He calibrated the
expected punishment with great care. Since I was not a ringleader, but
merely had my head in the wrong place at the wrong time, he gave me 4
whacks, whereas the others each got 6. I think it was the only time I got
"swished".
I already knew at the start that I wanted to be
a chemist doing research on life processes, so chemistry and biology were
always my strengths. However, I soon found myself in love with French and
was mortified when a change in the curriculum forced me to choose between
French and Chemistry. This was especially bad because it left
me with Latin as my only foreign language and Latin was taught by an
idiot called Smythe, who knew more about de-motivating students than he
knew about Latin. I knew I would fail Latin, which I did -- along with
more than half the class. A Credit in a foreign language in the School
Certificate was a requirement for matriculation. Mr. Cottrel
("Cotty"), the Spanish teacher, saved my bacon by offering to teach
me German. In those days German was "the language of
chemistry" so I eagerly accepted his offer. We met once or twice a
week during my PS periods, working our way through Otto's German Grammar
-- all in old Gothic script. I got my credit in an examination taken
separately from the routine exams. I hope I expressed the gratitude
I now realize I owed him.
The other masters who were of greatest influence
on me were Alf Housely (chemistry) and Phil Burch (biology). Burch
was a frail little man who always seemed on the verge of some illness but
he had an infectious enthusiasm for his subject and I kept in touch with him
sporadically for some years after I left SGS. Housely was also an
enthusiastic and stimulating teacher. As I prepared for the University
Scholarship exams he gave me a great deal of help, sometimes having me at
his house for private tuition. He was a bachelor and I felt sorry for him
in his ill-furnished house that so obviously lacked a woman's care.
Bill Evans was known for his irascibility but I
remember him for his having offered me the most reassuring and
compassionate words of any master at SGS. English language and literature
were among my top subjects and Evans had high expectations of me in the
School Certificate exam. But in the exams I fell apart.
Instead of the expected "Very Good" I failed in literature and
scraped by with a credit in the language part. The damning
results were posted on the notice board in the entrance hall. I can still
see myself, speechless, trying to say something to Bill Evans as we
confronted each other in the assembly hall. He growled at me, "You dare to
speak to me!" Then, immediately followed up with, "Well,
never mind, lad. It doesn't matter. You still have the
ability." I wonder if he knew how much those words meant to
me.
In 44 I left, having got a University
Scholarship -- which turned out not to mean anything because after war
service anyone could get a government further education grant that was worth
more than the scholarship. Having a deep seated fear of
regimentation, and a real curiosity about a way of life that was quite
alien to me, I took Ernie Bevin's option and chose to serve in the coal
mines. My urge to see "another side of life" was more
than satisfied by my stint in the Sandhole pit at Walkden. I was disabused of
any notions of the nobility of honest physical work. No amount of
money, I concluded, could compensate a miner for his degrading labor. I
got out on medical grounds in 46 in time to enroll in the Manchester
University Chemistry Department. I got a Ph.D. in Steroid chemistry in 52
and used this as a stepping stone to biochemistry by working on cholesterol
biosynthesis, first at Chicago, then at Harvard, I returned to
Harvard from the UK in 1959 and was appointed Professor of Biochemistry in the
Dept. of Psychiatry, Stanford Medical School in 1963. I retired in
1991.
When I left SGS I never joined the OSA, I
wanted to leave it all behind me. I felt the education there had
lacked some elements essential to understanding the dynamic state of the world
-- almost Dickensian in character. The realities of the emotional
life were repressed -- which made Bill Evans' remark to me so memorable.
On our final day, when Norwood gave his farewell homily he summed it up,
I thought, when he admonished us to "be honest but don't wear your heart
on your sleeve." In other words: Keep a good old British stiff upper
lip. It's a wonder any of us ever formed loving marriages.
Martyn, I've written far more than I intended
and probably more than you want. I just got carried away.
However, I must warn you that if you put me in detention for this, I'll have
one of my teenage grandsons hack into your computer and put you out of
business for good!
Keep up the good work. I'll be glad to
hear from anyone (especially over the age of 80) who contacts me at
<rbrazenor@comcast.net>
Dear Martyn,
First of all: A Happy New Year to you -- for
whom it must already have started, while we in California are still
awaiting the magic moment.
I thought I would pass along a trivial bit of
info about the name "Stand". I have a number of old maps
of Lancashire, from the days when I was studying the development of
technology. The earliest one is a map by John Speed, dated
1610. It shows Manchester and "Sawford",
"Preswicht", Heaton, Bury, "Edgecroft", Pilkington
Park and, in its appropriate place, "Ye Stand".
The name does not appear on the much more useful
(to the traveller of those days) Bowen map, dated 1753 but reappears in
the Carey map of 1806 as "Stand Chapel". It is absent
from a map of the 1830s that shows the new Manchester -- Liverpool
railway, as well as the Duke of Bridgewater's canal (also shown in the
1806 map).
Googling Lancashire place names, I found the
name probably derived from a Saxon root, meaning a stony place, which
sounds right to me. The place name source pointed out that as a
place name, "Stand" has passed out of use, to survive only in
such local names as Stand Lane, Stand Church and, until recently, Stand
Grammar School.
What I find intriguing about this is that
"Stand" was some sort of recognized locality -- a hamlet,
possibly -- from which the school took its name and, by way of a pun, its
motto! I was always curious as to which came first: the name or the
motto. Now it seems that the founders must have had a sense of
humor not unlike that of my contemporaries. We were dreadful punsters!
Wishing you and yours all the best for 2008... Ray
Clayton.
Hi
Martyn, I was pointed in the direction of your website by my daughter-in-law,
and found it fascinating. I went to Stand Grammar in the Autumn term in 1935,
and left in December 1939. In my first couple of years, the school was
co-educational, until the girls' Grammar School opened in September 1937. I
remember the highlight of the year was the girls' gymnastic display in the
hall, which all the boys were allowed to watch from the balcony. The headmaster
in those years was George Locke, who took every form in the school for one
lesson each week that he called 'Sharp practice'. In other words, mental
arithmetic. He was a mathematician who had written textbooks on the subject,
and we all thought he was a marvellous head. He retired as the school became
boys-only. It is odd that I can remember his name, but not the name of his
successor.
I noted from one of your other correspondents that Francois Gasquet was still
teaching for sone time after I had left. He was an excellent teacher of French,
and I still remember his exhortations to speak with the correct accent. Others
I remember were Mr Barber (Geography), Mr Joynson (History and Music
Appreciation) and Bill Evans (English). Evans had the habit of 'knuckling' your
head if Displeased. Corporal punishment was a feature of school life, and I
remember having six of the best on my backside, having been caught smoking
during the morning break with three of my friends. It was typical of the
arrogance and insensitivity of the headmaster to lecture us for some time about
the evils of smoking before thrashing us, whilst his packet of Players
cigarettes was left on full view on his desk,
I guess that most of my contemporaries will have passed on. Certainly some were
lost during WW2, including Stanley Barlow, who was the school gymnastic
champion. He and Jimmy Ince and I were keen ice skaters, but in no time at all
Stanley was miles ahead of us in skill. Stanley was killed in a Lancaster that
crashed on return from a bombing raid. Jimmy Ince went into the Navy, and I was
his best man at his wedding shortly after the war. Frank Richmond also went
into the Navy, I think, and Cyril Smart into the Fleet Air Arm. I can't
remember what happened to the rest, and having moved North to Newcastle on
Tyne, I never attended any of the school reunions.
Leslie Thomas
Congratulations on a brilliant website! I was introdued to it by Ray Clayton,
an outstanding chemist, nurtured by Alf in the 1940's. Clayton was a
contemporary of my brother Leslie - both reside in California. I work in
Calcutta and have an Old Standian Jason from Radcliffe here in our NGO,
Calcutta Rescue. I was at Stand 1942 - 1948 and was in the Sixth Form with
Henry Livings, Alan Flacks and the Shaw Brothers. Livings became a playwright
and actor and wrote a column for the Manchester Guardian. A joke he told me
circa 1947 I read many years later on recycled in his column.
At Stand I distinguished myself by getting a place at Oxford, but after I
graduated I had a job as a "Relief Milker" with an agency which sent
me to milk cows all over the country. One winter evening I was off to an
assignment in Pembrokeshire, standing in gum-boots and an old hand-me-down
greatcoat on London Road Railway Station. A gentleman nearby kept eying me in
this rig: it turned out to be Mr. Medlar, the Headmaster. I felt it might be
difficult to explain adequately how I got to where I was at that time.....
One thing I kept all these years: a love for Spanish, which I developed with
Mr. Hawley's teaching.
What happened to the marble plaque in memory of Robert Lord Clive of India,
opposite which was the slightly more modest board with chipped gold lettering,
the bottom line of which announced Preger, J. Manchester Corporation Bursary
1948? Clive did great and nefarious things in Bengal, where I've been for most
of the years since 1972. Following in his footsteps perhaps, although unlike
Lord Robert I wasn't expelled from Stand. I was however expelled from
Bangladesh and have spent 8 years under trial in India. Have any other Old
Standians done porridge?
The last time I visited the School some Old Standians were demonstrating
outside against the demolition. Sic transit gloria mundi.
With best wishes,
Jack Preger
Hi Martyn,
I never met you but I congratulate you for persevering with
the site. What would they all do without you ?
I left in 1958 and have to admit I felt sorry to leave - I enjoyed every
single minute of the years spent at Stand ( unlike many of my peers and my
younger brother Malcolm).
It has been very interesting to find that a few of the boys
of my era have contributed to your columns - but not many really. It is
also interesting how most of the charismatic leaders of that era (Derek
Utley, Bill Barton, Brian Keating, David Ellis & Co. - people who seemed to
have Stand GS in their blood) have not been caught by the site, and are
hardly mentioned by those who have. I accept that Ian
Wagstaffe is the exception. I have to be honest and say that by far the
greatest highlight during my school years was the absolute pure joy in
representing the school 1st XI on the football pitch . I am sending
with this contribution 3 photos from 1957, one of the (arguably) best 1st XI.s
for many years, (every member of the team was awarded colours), and staff
photos of the science masters and arts masters around that time.
The photos of the staff have their names printed, (as if this was
needed), but to help jog a few memories the football players are :
back row left - right : Ralph Settle, Bill Hall, Ian Lee, Graham
Christey, A Kirkpatrick (Alan ? ), Barry Kinsey. Front row :
Mel (Willie) Wood , Johnny Pimlott, Derek Utley, Jimmy ( spoonboots) Arnold,
and Malcolm Storrie. Where are they now ?
I did notice that the OSA has recently added a new name
to its committee (J Arnold) - it can only be Jimmy (?) so I'm hoping that
the annual dinner might provide a happy reunion !
Another thing I have noticed about the contributions is that
"Haggis" gets more comments than any other member of staff . It
is almost as though he is the first thing they think
about when they try to jog their
memories. Quite right too. Though he was
feared and even hated by many boys of my generation, he has
nevertheless been the person I respected most at school
and he gave me values I have carried through my life. If you
read these paragraphs PBH - A GREAT MANY THANKS, and though I keep
picking up comments that your health has been a problem I hope that such
problems have been resolved and that you can once again enjoy a full
life.
Best wishes to all your readers and especially
any who might remember me
Mel ( Willie ) Wood 1950 - 1958.
Hi Martyn,
Found my school cap the other day and for some insane reason typed Stand
Grammar on the web and here we are. I ‘did time’ from 1959 - 1966. I was
surprised to hear the school had been demolished - thought it would have
made a good tourist spot - like Alcatraz - you know the
sort of thing ‘This is the famous Gym where the inmates were used for target
practice by strangely named teachers (Haggis)?’. I was in 1a, 2c, 3s, 4a, 5s.
The first few masters we met lulled us into a sense of security -
Mr Ogden (Joe Bog) room 7 was pretty harmless if not slightly batty
- told stories of the trenches in WWI, smoked in the break and covered up
the smoke by spraying perfume before we came back. He and teachers like Mr
Whitworth (Joe Whit) treated us normally. Some recollections of various
masters…
Mr Moore - History 1a - lolling against the wall and
saying after consulting a paper ‘It says here Battle of Hastings 1066, so I suppose
you’d better write that down’ - talk about being put off History.
Fred Knox (Spanish) was off sick so he sent instructions for an assignment -
trouble was it was delivered by the ‘erg’ Mr Roberts who walked into the
classroom and said ‘ Mumble, gurgle, mutter - test tomorrow!’ We hadn’t a clue
what to prepare - Next day Fred Knox was angry ‘til we explained
who’d delivered the message - got away with it for once.
McGuire - Gym teacher - a sort of trainee Haggis who used to wield a wedge
shaped piece of wood with a cord attached - very painful - called it
Willy the wedge. (Where did they find these guys?)
Ernie Hanson - Maths - would call a boy to the front of the class ‘Come
forth Smith, if you come fifth you’ll be disqualified’
Revie - Physics - after checking homework would throw exercise books with
deadly accuracy onto your desk. If however you had removed some pages (a
cardinal sin) this would be discovered, as it spoilt the flight trajectory and
would fall short - then you were for it.
W.P Burch - comes out of room 14? On balcony was a big traffic jam of boys
shoving each other in both directions. Goes back in, comes charging out
with a Boa constrictor on his arm - end of jam.
Wimpy Longstaff - doing those singing exercises - doh mi re fa etc. I’d been
off sick so didn’t know the latest one - I was just about to be decapitated
when I was saved by a brave soul sticking up for me - I was too frozen with
terror to defend myself. On another occasion - music appreciation someone put
on a record of Joe Brown and the Bruvvers full volume - don’t remember
the result but was worth it. In detention Wimpy made us copy out ‘Proverbs 15’.
Cross country running as a detention - I remember a car pulling up and
the driver saying ‘ My heart bleeds every time I see you poor buggers -
get in’.
That’s all for now - emigrated to Israel in ’72 so this was a real trip
down Memory (Church) Lane. For all those who mentioned Schlesinger ‘Slaz’ - he
was my uncle, came to the School just as I was leaving.
Writing this was great therapy - I was just getting over it 40 years on.
Victor (Shlez) Schlesinger
Hi Martyn,
I
recently took my daughter for a look round at Tottington High School (where she
will be going this September) and was amazed to discover that Jasper Swift is
head of mathematics there. He retires in 2009 apparently. He hardly looks any
different and still travels in from Glossop every morning, although these days
he has a car rather than putting himself at the mercy of British Rail! Rather
worryingly, he remembered me from the year he taught us Physics!
On a more sombre note, a former schoolmate has informed me that Mr Smethurst
passed away last Christmas and also that Mr Crouchley is also no longer with us
although obviously I can't confirm any of this.
Tony Holt, 1973 - 1978.
Hello Martyn Arnold,
Last year on a visit with cousins in Whitefield, I took a stroll in order to
take a look at my old school Stand Grammar, evoke a few memories of the years I
spent there from1942-47. To my dismay all I found were some red brick posts
giving way, no longer to playing fields and the sound of the twenty two men.
but to a sad oh so boring housing development.
Unfortunately many of the contributors to your site post date my years at the
School though many of the teachers' names and head masters are familiar. My
first year brought me the form prize for which I selected a book, still
precious to me " The architecture of England" by Frederick Gibbard
and it eventually led to a career at Machester University then to practice in
Canada and teaching at McGill University in Montreal and as Director of the
School of Architecture at Laval University in Quebec city. The latter is a
francophone institution so Mr Cockeril's efforts weren't totally wasted.
Looking back, memories of our teachers are in some cases softened by time,
hardened by others. We made life miserable for the gentle erudite Mr Ogden - I
remember bringing his little son the future celebrity John from the bus station
for a recital. English teacher Mr Evans who rewarded my compositions and picked
me -against all logic - for a first team soccer practice because I made the
under fifteen's rugby team at my previous school! I didn't disappoint him and
drop-kicked a goal over the head of the opposing keeper.
Many of your correspondents speak warmly of Mr Whittaker. He wasn't my teacher
but I did accompany one of the expeditions he led to the Yorkshire moors and
shared his enthusiasm for boxing. He was disappointed when I gave the sport up
when I began architectural studies - couldn't risk injury to my drafting hand.
Alan Smith the art teacher was an encouraging mentor while the person who who
taught Metalwork was a brutish type who should never have been admitted beyond
the door of a teaching institution. My history teacher whose name I cannot
recall was responsible in an adverse way for my commitment to social and
political causes - way back when I went canvassing for the Labour party in post-war
years. He allowed me to joust with the conservative historian's approach and
gave me credit for my positions. All in all I benefitted from my education at
Stand. it enabled me to gain admission to the University at a time when 75% of
places was reserved for 2nd World War veterans and set me off for a career that
has given me great satisfaction.
Several of my close school friends were in a different stream but this didn't
deter us from joining the same youth club, chasing the same pretty girls,
forming our own cycling club and going carol singing in aid of the war vets. I
didn't come across their names on your site – David Whitehurst, Geoff Whittam,
John Waddington nor those of table tennis adversary Brian Simons or super
athlete and boogie woogie pianist Joe Siroto. I rember those painful cross
country runs, painful because we never trained adequately for them. I took up
long distance running when close to fifty and clocked several marathons,
including London's. I now restrict myself to10k jogs and keep on cycling.
In 2002 I organised a virtual 50th anniversary university class reunion. Look
forward to the 60th in 2012 and congratulate you for your web efforts.
Regards
Joseph Baker
Hi,
I just came across your web page whilst killing some time. Most interesting,
especially the pictures of the demolition -how sad!
I started at Stand in 1950 and for the first year occupied Stalag Room 21. I remember
there was a coke stove on a concrete hearth in the room and it used to glow red
hot. No fireguard of course ( pre 'elf & safety). Unfortunately, one day
somebody tripped on the concrete and fell with his hand on top of the
stove. I can still hear the screams now but cannot recollect who it was.
I went through all the years up to 1957. The last two years being in the
Science Sixth occupying one of the "new rooms" between the woodwork
room and the canteen. The canteen was built on the site of the old air-raid
shelters, in 1949 I think.
Staff I can recall were as follows;
Sammy Medlar: Headmaster. Fairly benign sort of chap but as I found to my cost
he was a dab hand with the cane in his study.
Joe Whit: Maths and History. He was a world renowned expert on Cistercian
Abbeys. He also ran (despite his bulk) the boxing club, of which I was a
member.
"Old Man" Clarke: Maths. He used to punish you by inviting you to his
tea-party. This was held once per week after school. The "criminals"
had to sit upright with arms folded and watch him eat his tea. Of course
talking or fidgeting resulted in a return visit.
Ernie Hanson: Maths. He could draw a perfect circle on the board. His
punishment was to give you one or two 7 digit "cubes" to do, and he
used to check them the following day.
Joe Bog (Ogden): English He made the subject extremely interesting and taught
us how to analyse sentences in coloured boxes. Punishment from him was to write
out (with all details) a page of Oxford School Dictionary. Again this was
checked. His son became a world famous concert pianist.
Ivor Glynn Jones: Woodwork and ( "You'll do gym naked boyo") Gym. If
you forgot your gym kit this was what happened.
P Hargreaves: Gym and Sport. If you turned up with dirty kit or misbehaved he
used "Percy" and your backside. Percy was a size 14 gym shoe and it
certainly stung. He ran a "gym club" after school and through this I
was included in the School Gymnastics team. Also he introduced basketball.
Dickie Vause: Geography and History "Doc" Roberts:- Geography and
Maths.
Willie P Birch: Biology.
"Twitch" Spooner: French A good teacher but was respected for his
virtuoso performances on the Grand piano in the hall most lunch times.
Frank Hill: Maths. Unfortunately I had his tutelage for GCE O level maths. He
was "Mr Memory Man" He knew all the log tables by heart and could
never see the difficulties we were all having with Calculus etc. Brilliant man
but a poor teacher.
"Fluebrush" Moore: Maths, Chemistry and Physics. A tall thin man who
was very aptly nicknamed. Excellent teacher with a good sense of
humour. His punishment was 3 strokes of a 12" metal ruler across the
backside - ouch!
Les Lumley: Physics. Brilliant teacher who everybody in the Science 6th
respected. He had his hip replacement done in about 1956. Due to his immobility
he was a crack shot with a board duster thrown across the lab at anyone
not paying full attention.
"SAP" Hamer: Maths. What a lovely man. He was Science Sixth form
master and maths teacher for two years. Everybody liked him. He died in 1958.
Colin Firth: Chemistry. He was completely different. Although fairly strict he
made learning fun. He ran an after-school chemistry club for us in the Science
Sixth. After 5pm he used to send someone down to the pie shop for
refreshments for us all. He also handed out the fags to those who smoked.
We learned many things outside the curriculum in this club including making
Nitrogen Tri-iodide explosive. This was a black powder which we sprinkled
liberally round the school with expected results. - we eventually got caught
and caned.
In 1955 Sammy Medlar retired and a Mr Williamson was appointed head.
Dramatic changes immediately. He was anti-science and did not appoint any
prefects from the Science Sixth. He changed the long standing "Forty Years
On" to some Latin dirge "Gaudeamus Igitur" - Awful. He made
Latin compulsory for new boys, and made wearing the school cap for Sixth
Formers compulsory. He was not well liked!
I well remember two April Fool days when we fastened the Russian flag up the
flagpole at the front of School. Another time we entered school the previous
night, through a window we had wedged open, and moved all ( well, most) of the
desks and tables round. We didn't dare touch the grand piano though. Then we
went round to the Girls' school and did the same there. My wife who is 3 years
younger then me and attended SGS for girls says she can still remember the
chaos we caused. We were lucky not to get expelled for this prank.
I would love to hear from some of my friends from the 6th form. - if they are
still alive and kicking. We had some good fun together. Especially the
following:
Peter Raymond, Graham Leadbetter, Mike Pickup, Mark Punchard, Geoff Galley.
Please contact me on: paulandchris@paul20439.plus.com
Paul Crompton
Hi Martyn
A small contribution to the site. I was discussing pupil discipline with
my son, who is now a Maths teacher (that will stun Messrs Hill and Broadbent)
and he was telling me some of the things he has to endure. It reminded me
of when I was sent out of class by Wimpy for breathing! Really. We
were copying some music from his (pristine, if you remember) blackboard and I
happened to take a deep breath. He whirled round shouting "Who was
that?". No answer, since nobody knew what he was talking about.
"The heavy bweather", he shouted (never could quite pronounce his
r's, could he). I owned up, since it seemed harmless enough, and was sent
to stand in the corridor. Derek Broadbent walked passed and asked why I
was outside. "For breathing heavily Sir", I replied. He looked
through the window in the door and walked away, smiling.
Cheers
Frank Roebuck
Oh, and one other, and I swear this is true. Joe Whit was once discussing
the mysteries of conception in an R.E. class. He commented that
"some couples can try for years and never have a baby, and yet others
hardly need to reach the bed and pregnancy will result". Then with
his arm raised to his shoulder with the little finger of one hand crooked, in
that familiar style of his, he said "Now boys, I think somebody has a
finger in it somewhere".
Still makes me smile!
I have just found your site, having been an attendee of the
school from 68
till 73/74 when I was persuaded that my future prospects did not lie with
Stand I became an apprentice draughtsman, then a Fireman, ultimately a
senior officer in the fire service. I am hoping to refresh my memories and
contacts with school mates and now have the facility.
best regards
Paul Taylor
1P,2P,3?,4?,5?
I was a pupil at Stand Grammar School from 1947 to 1953. Sammy Medlar was the
headmaster and after him the most senior teacher was the Latin master Mr Gaskey
or Gaskell. Mr Gaskey was famous for carrying around an old chair leg.
No, he wasn’t a DIY enthusiast, it just happened that his preferred weapon of
mass boy destruction was an old chair leg. Fortunately I never did Latin but I
was told the chair leg was administered to the back of the knees. Youhave to
admire his originality for choice of weapon and body part.
Next in seniority came the Maths teacher ‘Old Man’ Clarke with whom I was to
have a serious confrontation in my first few weeks at the school. In one
of my very first lessons he told me to stop grinning. For some reason I
had never come across this word before and a word started with gr... eg, grunt,
groan, etc suggested to me that I was pulling a face. My reaction
was to gently smile. ‘Stop grinning, boy!’ he thundered. I smiled a
little more, why was he getting so angry? He hauled me out of my
seat and gave me a considerable shaking. By this time I was certainly not
smiling any more and was probably crying. My punishment for this
perceived insolence was to be invited to one of his famed tea parties after
school. No tea and cakes, just extra maths for 45 minutes. This
actually was preferable to detention, as it didn’t show on your school report
so your parents never found out. This turned out to be my one and only
skirmish with him. I scored 90% in maths at the end of the first term and
he gave me top grades for progress and diligence. In the end I quite warmed to
him and preferred him to my other maths teacher, Mr Hanson. Hanson set
homework that no boy or parent of boy could do.
My French teacher was Spike Cotterell. Was he paid a bonus for every boy he put
in detention? Each week Spike gave you 10 words to learn to spell, less
than 5 in the test was a straight detention. Not a big ask, you might
think. He must have trawled the dictionary for difficult words which always
seemed to contain a lot of vowels and accents. I’d swear that the directions of
these accents changed between the time they were first written on the board and
the time they were tested. Getting a pass of 5 out of 10 required a monumental
effort.
Joe Bog was one of my English teachers. In the May 1948 school photograph Joe
has a full head of hair. I think it was the following year that he had a
religious conversion and came in one day, much to the amusement of everyone,
with his head completely shaved. It was very rare to see a shaven head in those
days. Sammy Medlar must have been horrified. Along with the shaven head he
started to spend the entire length of the morning break upside down in a
headstand position against a classroom wall. He was very moody and had a
violent temper which once resulted in him having what can only described as a
fight with a boy in my class. Someone mentioned that Joe had told them that he
was a former inmate at Prestwich Mental Hospital. Was he out on day release?
This man was seriously weird.
Of course, the vast majority of teachers were normal guys who treated you well
and tried hard to teach you something. Things were beginning to change and new
blood was coming in and replacing the old guard. The most memorable new
teacher was the unfortunately-named ‘Goofy’ Hunter . It was a boy in my
class who gave him his nickname and it seems to have stayed with him. Goofy was
young, enthusiastic, had a sense of humour and tried and mainly succeeded in
making History lessons interesting.
The most famous ex-pupil from my era was John Spencer. He was a schoolboy
snooker genius. When he was 15 his photograph appeared in the sporting pages of
the Manchester Evening News. He had beaten a visiting top professional in an
exhibition match in a working mens’ club. Sammy Medlar was
not amused and John left the school a short time after. He went on to be one of
the world’s top professional snooker players in the 1960’s and 1970’s and was
world champion several times. John sadly died a few years ago and there were
extensive obituaries in the papers. A biography entitled ‘Out of the Blue
and into the Black’ is a good read. There is not a great deal about his
days at Stand but there is an interesting photograph of the Stand Grammar
School Under 14 Cricket Team; John was the captain.
Highlights of my time at Stand were the Scientific Society’s visits to Chester’s
Brewery where most of us sampled our first half-pint of real ale. We also went
down a coal mine, crawling the last few yards to reach the working coal face.
Other visits I remember were to the Senior Service cigarette factory, Helmsley
House (newspapers) and Cadbury’s. Another highlight was a tennis match against
the Girls’ School.
It was great to read the letters on the Stand Website but very sad to see the
demolition pictures. The comments about teachers of my era were particularly
interesting to me and that is the reason why I have written some of my memories
to hopefully share with others.
Peter Madeley
I have been resisting, but I’ve cracked – I’ll have to share my memories of
Stand Grammar School for Boys (“We Stand So That We May Serve, laddie, so stand
up!!” – Haggis, Room 7, 1975). Paul Williams here, “Charlie”, SGS 1975 – 1982.
I can’t say I enjoyed Stand, in fact I bloody hated it, in the first two or
three years especially when the main function of first/second formers was to be
thumped by staff or picked on by towering, sullen older kids. But the stories
are there of course, even if some of them weren’t funny at the time.
I’ll start with a few catchphrases and idiosyncrasies: there was ‘Smelly’
Smethurst who would dismiss a hapless numpty with the line “go away, laddie, go
and play with your Dinky Toys!” He came from Brandlesholme every day in a
Renault hatchback , how I prayed to see it vandalised. And ‘Cedric’
Cheetham’s whistle when he said the letter S, a bit of a problem when you had a
habit of saying “see?” at the end of every sentence. Or Jenny Saunders,
who would shout over the tumult in 3E, “THIRD year! You are the WORST behaved
class I have EVER taught!” Ah miss, I bet you say that to all the boys… Then
there were any number of teachers whose catchphrase was probably “YOU
BOY!!!!!!!” I recall being chilled to the bone once, when the ‘front’ steps
were banned to all except staff and sixth formers. Why so petty? Why make a kid
walk down to the entrance at the ‘new’ block and then walk BACK to room 1? But
never mind, ‘twas ever thus. A friend of mine (not sure who it was, could’ve
been ‘Doo-Dah’ Day) decided to go down the forbidden steps for a dare (ooh
daring!) and I pursued him to warn him that he’d get into trouble – only to
hear that chilling ‘YOU BOY!’ in my ears from Hairy Hynes. Got quod for that,
doo-dah got away with it. I’m sorry that Hairy has passed on but if I’m being
frank he was a git. He once humiliated a pupil in Biology (‘Inch’ Minch, who at
the time was a bit vertically challenged) in the lab by commanding him to stand
up. As ‘Inch’ slid off his tall lab stool, Hairy shouted “I TOLD you to stand
UP!!” “I AM standing, sir,” was the pained reply.
Talking of ‘Inch’, he was one of my compatriots in Engineering Drawing ‘taught’
by ‘Killer’ Crouchley. Killer would set us to work (was it room 31?) and bugger
off for ages, no one ever found out where he’d gone. Inevitably the work would
peter out and the chat would start, inevitably involving a kid called ‘Paddy’
Smithies whose wedding tackle was the source of much admiration at gym – if
Paddy left his trousers off, he could’ve stood in for a set of cricket wickets.
Anyway, if you were careful your early warning system would suss out Killer’s
impending return, but one day we got careless and in mid-chat the door flew
open and Killer strode back in, clearly furious that just because he’d naffed
off for half an hour the work pace had slackened. Now in ED, it was hard to get
to the back of the room; there were big drawing boards in the way. But the most
careless boy of all, the one who’d just carried on talking for that last
half-second as the door flew open, was at the back. The room was utterly
silent, we knew that we were in big trouble. The atmosphere was electric. I
don’t recall exactly who the victim of the next little exchange was, or who the
kid at the back was, but we’ll call them ‘Smith’ and ‘Jones’. Killer spoke,
low, not shouting – ohmigod, when he did that we knew we were in DEEP sh*t.
“Smith,” said Killer through clenched teeth to ‘Smith’ on the front row. “Jones
is talking. (long pause.) I can’t reach him, but I can reach you.” Then WAP!
Killer’s right hand described a perfect arc and caught ‘Smith’ on the side of
his head, almost knocking him off his bench. He’d get three years for that
today.
On the subject of teachers leaving the classroom, we were taught French for a
while by Nia ‘Nelly’ Jones in the room that was first on the right on the
ground floor of the ‘new’ block – I don’t remember its number but it may have
been room 29. At the back of the room was a large stationery cupboard, in fact
a small room, and – it may have been coincidence – ‘Paddy’ McCafferty always seemed
to need something from that stationery room while Nelly was teaching us in
there; and he always seemed to need Nelly’s help in finding whatever it was he
was searching for. There would be long pauses while we strained our ears to
hear what was going on in the room behind us. Miss, if you read this we weren’t
being quiet because we were diligent – we were trying to listen to see if you
were snogging.
‘Nelly’ Jones and I had a relationship based on entirely mutual respect – I
didn’t really like her, she didn’t really like me, and we both knew where we
stood. After two years doing French with the utterly brilliant Dave
Wolstencroft I went to Nelly, and every bloody year after that I’d scan the
timetable on 1 September to find my name under Nelly AGAIN! She taught me all
the way from third year to A-level, I got a decent grade at both so I mustn’t
complain.
Smellie was a nasty piece of work, goodness knows what I did to the gods to end
up being taught by him for four years. Every single report he’d give me an E,
then just to spite him I’d do the summer exam and do really well and be in his
top maths set again. Andrew (Jasper) Swift however was an utter delight, a true
gentleman. He didn’t teach me Maths, he was form master in my third year, and
the story on the website about him walking along the railway track from Glossop
when the weather was bad is completely true. Jasper, if you read this, thanks –
you were a sane tutor in a mad world.
Talking of gentlemen, one must mention ‘Tabs’ Hunter – deputy head by my era.
In my A-level season I had an exam clash and it was resolved by me staying
overnight with him and his wife, somewhere in the Gardner Road area in
Prestwich, and while there listening to the radio news (I don’t think they had
a telly) I heard that Princess Diana had had a baby boy (William). I know that
Tabs has died, but he really was one of the best. (I hadn't
heard that, I'll check at the next dinner and confirm or otherwise - Martyn)
I was never taught by Mr Towey for maths, thank god – he never had a nickname,
no one dared. But one day Smellie sent me with an errand to Staff Room 1 (who
remembers Staff Room 1 and Staff Room 2? Knock at the door, come back down the
steps and WAIT.). But for some reason, Towey’s class had had to decamp to the room
just outside the staff rooms. I knocked, to hear Towey’s sonorous “ENTER!” I
asked if I might just take this envelope to Staff Room 1, please sir, but Mr
Towey made it clear in no uncertain terms that if I took one step further then
life would change decidedly for the worse, so I retreated back to room 4 –
where I got a bollocking for not doing the errand. But the funny thing about
Towey was that he had a weak spot – he loved trains, he was a volunteer at the
Dinting Railway Centre. So if you took your courage into your hands to speak to
him, and mentioned that you’d seen ‘Flying Scotsman’ the previous day, he’d
visibly relax and chat about steam engines…
Talking of trains, for a while for metal work I was taught by a relatively new
teacher (new to us, that is) called Frank Cronin – lovely bloke, best sideburns
this side of a real ale festival. Now Frank actually owned a steam engine, kept
it at the Severn Valley Railway. Frank had us making all sorts of strange brass
thingies, I’m sure in retrospect that some of them were bits of locomotive…
On history, I can mention two contrasts: ‘Dosser’ Bradshaw, who was
laugh-a-minute and in his trendy suit with long 70s hair looked like a refugee
from a Malcolm Bradbury novel; and Paddy McCafferty, mad Irishman, who ‘taught’
us history while dreaming of getting back out onto the playing field to play
footie and shout at shivering first years. Thinking of Paddy, several
contributors – from different years – have recalled the infamous ‘whack every
single kid in the year’ incident on the tennis courts. But if we all recall it
from different years, did the little sadist find a reason to do it every year?
I recall being very aggrieved at this incident. There was a fight going on so
me, Phil Worthington and Karl Timberlake decided that as we were awaiting Paddy
for the start of Games, here was trouble with a capital T and we ran in the
direction of ‘away’ so that we were nowt to do with it all. It didn’t help, we
all got the slipper anyway despite being a hundred yards away from the action.
Who can forget those cross-country runs? Philips Park and back, I recall on a
couple of occasions being so cold when I got back that I could hardly do up my
shirt buttons, my fingers just wouldn’t move. When Paddy McCafferty took games,
one of his ‘amusements’ was to whack the last ten that got back – somehow, by a
combination of miracle and fear, I usually got back last-but-eleven. One day, I
think it was about third year, a lad (was he called Hamer?) got cut short and
squatted in the bushes next to the track in Philips Park. Just as I came along,
so did PE teacher ‘Al’ Smith who said, a bit unnecessarily in my view, “What
are you doing, lad?” To which there could be only one response: “I’m having a
sh*t, sir!” I think the whole thing was so funny I recall he got away with it.
I’m surprised no one has mentioned ‘Dicky’ Daniels, the RE teacher. Poor soul,
he was too sensitive for us, I recall that once we ‘kidnapped’ his briefcase
and shuffled it around the room with our legs like a rugby scrum, with him
becoming ever more desperate to find it. Poor Dicky, I think he had a nervous
breakdown in the end.
I recall the Ecky Thump incident, I was there: also right at the end, when the
building was being prepared for conversion into a Sixth Form college, big
girders sprouted up in the Big Hall in preparation for it becoming a library
with a study area above. So some silly sod thought it would be a great idea to
nick another kid’s sports bag, creep out along one of the six-inch wide girders
above a fifteen-feet drop, and leave the bag perched perilously mid-girder.
Massive steward’s enquiry, but I don’t think anyone was found out.
In my time some new labs were built on the end of the ‘new’ block and on one of
its first uses we had Chem. with ‘Prism’ Murray (so-called because he was P. R.
S. Murray). Phil Worthington and I were at the front of the classroom, in
goggles, heating up some ‘stuff’ in a test tube above a Bunsen burner. We were
meant to ‘agitate’ whatever it was, gently. I dunno what we were doing wrong,
but whatever chemical reaction was supposed to be taking place, wasn’t. “Give
it here lad,” said Prism and grabbed the test tube in its gripping tongs and
gave it a bloody good shake over the burner. With a ‘WOOF’ a sheet of flame
erupted from the test tube and landed on the blackboard like a dose of best
USAAF napalm. It was one of those ‘roller’ blackboards that had a lined
section, a squared section and a plain section between metal strips that the
teacher used to grip and spin. This flaming mixture hit the squared section,
and for the rest of my time at SGS there was a section of the squared lines
missing where it had burned off.
No one has mentioned ‘Dave’ Wolstencroft (modern languages), so I will. Dave
was a brilliant teacher; he taught me French for the first few years and then
Russian. He was patient and a good teacher – but if you pushed him hard, then –
on very very rare occasions - his version of ‘Percy’ would come out: Boris. If
Dave hit you he hit you bloody hard, I was one of his favourites so he never
hit me, in fact he rarely hit anyone, but maybe that was partly due to his good
teaching and partly due to Boris’ reputation going before.
My speciality was English, in fact I eventually went to Newcastle University to
study English Language and Linguistics, so the English teachers loomed large in
my recollections. There was John ‘Pixie’ Shuttleworth, who created and nurtured
my love of English and who eventually left to go on a sabbatical. Pixie was a
man of slight build, fanatical BWFC supporter, but when reading a passage from
a book he could keep 30 13-year olds utterly spellbound.
We’ll gloss over Jenny Saunders and Freddie Mercury with honourable mentions as
they’ve already been described by others, but I should thank Glyn Harrison, who
coached me for the Oxford entrance exam and ALMOST got me there (eight places
at the college I applied to, I came ninth); and above all, lovely Helene Orton
who pretended to not know that all the boys fancied her. Helene was a wonderful
teacher and she inspired me to follow her to Newcastle Uni. She went there and
rubbed shoulders with Bryan Ferry of Roxy Music; I went there and rubbed
shoulders with a hippy from St Helens called Neil. John, Helene, if you read
this, please get in touch – I’d love to shake you by the hand and buy you
dinner.
Philip Jennings was mentioned, who tragically died while in sixth form. Either
his funeral service or a memorial service was held at Stand All Saints, and I
sang for Philip in the choir. Later, I received the Philip Jennings prize – it
was established as a prize fund by his parents. I’m sure I still have the book
I used to buy as my award, and it has the SGS crest engraved in gold on its
cover. Talking of the choir, in my time this was led by music master ‘Roger’
Whittaker – a man of incredible height (6’ 6”?) who gave me quod for missing
some lunchtime rehearsals of the ‘voluntary’ choir. Somewhere in my attic I
have at least two programmes from choir concerts – if I can find them I’ll scan
them for the website, they’re interesting because they list all the members of
the choir, staff and pupils.
Talking of publications, who recalls STANDIAN, the annual magazine given out
just before the summer holidays? Again I have some copies still from the 1970s,
I will scan them if I can find them.
I will draw a decent veil over my thoughts on ‘Haggis’ – let’s just say that I
can still to this day tell you EXACTLY where you can find an oxbow lake on the
Manchester Ordnance Survey map. ( I had to look and after quite a while, I found
it! See below - Martyn)
Paul Williams, 1975 - 1982
I found it! Thanks
for the challenge, Paul!
Dear Martyn
You could mention the fact that the distinguished ex-Standian Howard Jacobson
has just been awarded the Booker prize for his novel "The Finkler
Question".
He writes for the Independent and in one article he regretted that so few
teachers today possessed a cultural hinterland, unlike the teachers at his
school. The Latin teacher, for example, had written a novel (Dickie Baird).
Another was a gifted amateur actor, another a skilful boxer.
It so happens that a group of ex-Standians, gathering in London for their
regular 3 monthly get together, read this article and added our memories of the
teachers involved. I should explain here that since 2002 we have been meeting
every 3 months to sample the ales in various pubs in London. It started when I
saw John Hudson's name on Friends Re-United. I was very friendly with him at
Stand but had not kept in contact since. When we arranged to meet up, I suspect
we were both a little nervous. After all, if we hadn't been bothered to keep in
touch for 40 odd years why should we bother now? And what would we talk about
once we had disparaged teachers, especially Haggis? In the event, it worked out
very well, to the extent that we actually fixed up a second meeting. John has
always kept in touch with Howard Moss, and he was the next to join. Geoff
Robinson appeared next and finally Paul Howarth. Our next meeting is on
November 20 2010. We foregather at 12 noon or thereabouts at St Martin's in the
Fields, and we then progress to our default pub, the Old Shades, five minutes
walk away in Whitehall.
Now back to Mr Jacobson. Having read his article we then decamped to a pub in
Soho. As we were striding along Gerrard St who should hove into view but the
aforementioned Howard Jacobson. Should we or shouldn't we? We did. We accosted
him. Brazenly. In public. He was I think somewhat surprised but seemed to take
it in good heart. Did he keep in touch with that other literary Standian John
Heilpern? Apparently not. We took a photo, then left him to his contemplation
of the menu outside the Chinese restaurant.
Thus ended our brush with fame.
Best wishes
Anthony Withers
Standian 1957 - 1964.
Howard Jacobson, Paul Howarth, John Hudson,
Geoff Robinson, Howard Moss, Anthony Withers
Hi Martyn,
Oh
dear, oh dear, oh dear... messing about this morning on the www, I Googled
Stand Grammar. The resultant find has taken up the rest of today, so
very well done on getting such an informative site together that nobody in
their right mind should stumble across! It's rivetting for Old Standians.
I
was only at Stand for one year and one term (1968 til Dec 69) and then my Dad
got an offer in Bristol that was too good to turn down, so we all trekked to
the West Country. Whilst I only have a few hazy memories of Stand, I seem
to recall probably being in Ragdale House (?) and possibly Haggis being the
house master. The start of the register is still pretty well emblazoned
on my mind,
ADDLEMAN,
ASHWORTH, ASPINALL, BERRY CAINE, COHEN, DIXON, DRAZEN, FOOT, HEFFERNAN, ISAACS,
JACKSON, KIRK, LLOYD, LARAH, ... and relax! (Sorry if I missed anyone out, or
misspelled names here, plus once my turn had gone in the roll call, I sort of
drifted for the rest of the day!!)
It
is really sad that the old gaff has now long gone, but if I ever get up North,
I'll have a quick spin up Church Lane and undoubtedly shed a tear or two.
Although I had only a year and a tad at Stand, I believe that many of the
lessons I learnt there helped forge my adulthood. Good manners,
consideration for others, listen and learn, challenge, and never say you've got
a belly ache during a music lesson. All good mottos for positive
survival!
Best
wishes to all who sailed in her… Keith Jackson
Martyn
Now it can be told...
"Not with a bang but a whimper".
I sat my A-levels a year early, achieved A,B,D with little effort and was
persuaded to stay on for a third year in the 6th form to have a rather feeble
bash at Oxbridge - did OK in the exam but did not pass the interview. Hung
about Stand for a while after that, through inertia I suppose. Plus my best
mate Tony Latham was still there, repeating his upper sixth year (he was two
years younger than anyone else in our year!), and French lit. lessons with the
new teacher Mr Short were very lively and interesting.
Life was good. I could read whatever I wanted in the library, nip out down to
the tennis courts for a fag, meet my girlfriend there at lunchtime, have lunch
in the chippy opposite the Cross Keys before nipping across for a pint of
Wilson's mild and a game of darts... Life was quite idyllic in fact, but
eventually someone on the staff must have started wondering why I was still
there, and it was suggested that I ought to terminate my school career finally;
which I did, with considerable reluctance I must say. I had loved my time in
the 6th form, well taught by Spike and Bill Short (French), Knox (Spanish) and
Jones (Latin).
I then worked in a cotton warehouse before taking up my unconditional place at
Leeds University, where I gained a II.i in French with Spanish. I then worked
as a teacher for 25 years at Chadderton Grammar, which became North Chadderton
Comprehensive. I spent my whole career there, rising to Senior Teacher before
taking early retirement on health grounds. Now I work (as little as I have to)
as a freelance translator and junior chess coach.
Cheers,
Phil Adams (aka "Pad" , 1959-1965; 1B, 2L, 3S, 4L, 6L, 7L, one term
in 8L then politely asked to leave...)
Hi,
I
attended (fitfully, inbetween bouts of skivitis and extra long school holidays
due to two weeks of Radcliffe Wakes not coinciding with the Southern
Continental holidays taken in Whitefield at that time) SGS from 1974 to 1978.
Your
mention, on your website of Metalwork, prompted me to recall an incident of
minor trivial importance from about 1977, details are quite sketchy, but here
goes:-
I
along with several of my contemporaries was idly passing time awaiting the
arrival of the metalwork teacher (name not recalled), when suddenly like a bolt
from the blue an idea arrived almost totally unformed in my head.
Straightaway,the
plan was put into action.
So,
I turn on the fire hose at the tap, because obviously the control valve at the
end of the fire extinguisher will be closed and all that will happen is the
fire hose will fill up with water and so no damage will be done.
Computer
says NO, the control valve is either broken (likely) or open (more likely) and
so after a delay where nothing happens (except of course the 2" or so
diameter fire hose is filling with water), water starts to exit the fire hose
control valve and egresses with the force due to perhaps 40' head of water from
the water tower in Heaton Park + another 10' head of water or so due to the
class being taught in the basement.
"Oh
dear", thinks maybe 13 year old boy, "what am I going to do
now?".
Shut
the valve, nothing happens.
Shut
the tap, nothing happens (except of course the tap has closed but most of the
water remaining in the fire hose continues to egress the fire hose control
valve (now very likely broken).
When
gravity has allowed the last drop to micturate from the fire hose and seep
under the door of the metalwork laboratory, amidst scenes of much amusement
from the afore-mentioned contemporaries, who should happen along but the
previously and still name unrecalled metalwork teacher to open the door and
assess the full extent of the flood.
Strangely,
the guilty red faced and wet handed guilty party was quickly and unceremoniously
singled out to face the music.
After
what seemed like hours (but was probably only a couple of minutes), it was
agreed unilaterally that a letter from a parent must be produced to explain the
actions of the perhaps 13 years old boy concerned.
Said
perhaps 13 years old boy concerned, then resolves with the aid of his trusty
OED to produce the aforesaid letter by himself.
Later
that same day and with the inspired selection from the OED of the word
"TAMPER" used in a substandard letter of apology hampered by
"very poor handwriting".
The
very next day the letter is handed over with great trepidation by Said perhaps
13 years old boy concerned and amazingly is accepted without further comment
(possible mitigating factor - well he is from "Radcliffe" and so probably
works in a Mill).
Well
that's a dusty old memory exposed, perhaps one day I'll write of the many
occasions when "Jasper" Swift used to leap off the dais at the front
of the classroom with partial degree ceremony regalia flowing like Superman's
cape as with the force of a "canal jumper" he pumped his biceps to
propel a piece of cheap and cheerful sports footwear against the back of my
semi-prostrated form, due to my total inability to take on board the
fascinating facts he wished to impart in his Mathematics lecture.
Yours
Mike
Fairclough
p.s.
"Jasper's" technique worked with me, as I was one of 29/31 (might
have even been 30/31 {no names but someone who had quite a lot in common
[nomenclature wise] with a guy for whom "play the way you're facing"
was not an uncommon phrase may have achieved a lesser pass mark} of his class
who took Mathematics "O" level a year early (I was 14) gained an
"A" grade.
p.p.s.
These notes are not contemporaneous and will most likely contain glaring errors
and omissions
Too
clever by at least 3.14159265
I
only actually visited this site to see if "Godley and Creme" attended
SGS, but that's for another day; Time for bed.
That you don't know what you've got ‘til it's gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot.”
There were only two staff who didn’t take part in lunchtime crosswords -
Baz, the Latin teacher, who would sit by the electric fire rehearsing the
latest guitar solo from Eric Clapton or Johnny Winter or eulogizing wistfully
over that one, long, dramatic Jimmy Page chord that unleashes the
instrumental part of “Stairway to Heaven” - Baz never tired of playing
that chord - he would just sigh “Heavy” - and then the witty, unique Stan, who
would be busy preparing his lessons or marking homework (not really!).
I shall attach a few photos of staff meetings down at the Church Inn
(was that the name of the pub at the bottom of the lane ?). These were arranged
by Dave Bowers.
I’ll try too to scan or photograph a cartoon of the staff - now
yellowing with age (the cartoon that is) - drawn by John Moss, the art teacher.
All are fairly good likenesses - except John himself; he’s the slim, suave,
handsome one in the middle.
I was head of the German department; at least that’s what I always wrote
in my subsequent CVs. I was in fact the only teacher of German; so the claim
was almost true.
I think my nickname was “Rob” or “Rob Roy”, either because of my
initials or my curly beard.
You might remember the outrageously garish checked sports jacket I
usually wore. I wince even now when I think of it. Tasteless is too kind a
word.
Being the only teacher of German I had the advantage of teaching kids
from the very first day they heard a German word (other than “Sieg Heil” or
“Donner und Blitzen”, etc.) right through to “O”, “A”, “S” levels and
university entrance - and not without a modicum of success, even if I say so
myself. If I did nothing else, I hope I managed at least to wean my
classes off the British prejudices that prevailed in those days
(understandably) and persuade boys that not all Germany and all Germans fit the
old stereotypes that comics and TV had taught them to hate. (The woman I
ended up marrying was after all German.)
I used to give German first names to all the boys starting German.
I conducted lessons in German as far as I could but I explained grammar in
English. My most effective tool in getting boys to remember the admittedly
complicated rules of German case structure was my East London accent, which
though more or less ironed out at university did occasionally still
surface. That it would be so useful at Stand I discovered by accident.
Having overheard boys mimic me I would, when teaching grammar, lay it on as
heavily as I possibly could and soon had all the young thugs from Whitefield,
Radcliffe. etc. reciting their “der, die, das” in a thick Peckham accent.
They had their fun of course at my expense - but I bet a few of them still
remember “orl yer prepositions wiv the ‘cusatif an’ orl yer prepositions wiv
the datif” (pronounced with a glottal stop).
This was the year we narrowly escaped relegation (thanks partly to the
fact that there was no division lower down to which we could have gone and
partly to the rigorous running-round-the-block after school ordered by our very
strict coach, the “special one” from Belfast). Our tactics were to pass the
ball whenever possible to Alan Smith, who, being the only non-smoker
(apart from me), could run much the fastest - while the rest of us
doubled up trying to catch our breath.
I never returned to teaching.
I was usually required to write a sort of international English,
spelling “center”, “color”, etc. and the habit has stuck.
Our two daughters are now 18 and 20, German passports, French
boyfriends. So I’ve done my bit, I think, for Europe. I retire this
year but I am still fairly fit, go walking in the hills and forests surrounding
this small town.
I am more or less self-sufficient for half the year with the fruit and veg I
manage to grow among all the weeds.
I have sunk very deep and tenacious roots here. I go back to England
quite often to see the family but I don’t think I’ll be moving back for good.
So that’s it - for now at least. “Remembrance of things past” - a
bit unsettling but also very rewarding !
Ray Russell
|
|
|
The above pictures were pretty good, but this is
awesome... (Are you out there, John Moss? If so, can we please use your
cartoon?)
| Julie |
Fisher |
Art |
|
Ray |
Russell |
German |
|
Jan |
Olzewski |
? Chem |
|
Pete |
Murray |
? |
|
? |
Butler? |
I think he was later
dep-head |
|
? |
Shuttleworth |
English |
|
John |
Moss |
Art (slightly handsomer than in reality
but |
|
? |
? |
? |
|
Alan |
Smith |
History |
|
|
Crouchley |
Wood / metal |
|
Keith |
Bradshaw |
History |
|
Dave |
Bowers |
? English |
|
Gordon |
Cain |
? History |
|
Frank |
Boddy? |
Maths
|
|
Barry |
Costello-Jones |
|
|
Nia |
Jones |
French |
|
Pete |
McCafferty |
PE |
|
Peter |
Bull |
French ? Spanish |
Anyone know any more names??
Apparently, yes we do...
It's been a while since I last visited the
site, but just seen that great cartoon by John Moss of the inmates from Staff
Room 2.
I think I can fill in some of the gaps as I
was there in the 70's.
I think it was Julie Fisher.
Ray Russell
Jan Olszewski taught me French. I’m pretty sure my spelling of the surname is
right.
Pete Murray
The Deputy Head was a Mr Butler (Pete?)
Johnny Shuttleworth taught English
John Moss
? Cannot put a name to this guy.
Al Smith taught me History
J Crouchley or Killer Crouchley to the lads, taught me Woodwork and Engineering
Drawing.
Keith Bradshaw taught History
Dave Bowers taught me English
Gordon Cain taught me Economics
Im sure the next bloke on the far right was WJ Belfield (John) who taught me
Geography.
Martin
Harper
I was
at Stand GS from (I Think) 1956 to 62. Came from Radcliffe and well
remember catching the No 20 bus from the bottom of Ainsworth Road right
to the school. My pals were Geoff Hall (his dad was a Fire Officer, he
lived opposite Radcliffe Fire Station)Kenny Kirkpatrick (his brother
Alan was a 5th Former and I think 1st team footballer when we first
arrived.)I recall Barrie Warwick, Les Yates, Geoff Glaskie, Russell
Crompton, Ian Hilton (who became my Best Man) but 50 years has taken its
toll at remembering detail.
I remember the trip into Manchester to the Free Trade Hall for Speech
Days, being Joe Bloggs' book monitor (what a creep) thwacking Haggis with
Percy the persuading pump after he overheard me in the gym changing room
relating what I would like to do to him. My wish came true and I recall
enjoying it.
Great site, pity I didn't discover it earlier
Rod Hattan
Dear Martyn
I have been a reader of your site for a few years, but haven’t
contributed before (sorry!). Thanks for all your efforts keeping the site
going – as others have said, it’s a wonderful contribution for those who
went to SGS.
First, I am so sorry to hear of the death
of Tony Wilding – the Association owed a huge amount to him, and I have a
copy of his SGS history book, which has proved very useful.
Your call for information re. the John
Ogdon recital prompted some memories that I hope you can pass on to
Charles Beauclerk, if he is interested. So these are not just SGS
memories. Feel free to edit if you want it on your pages.
I don’t remember the SGS John Ogdon piano recital of 1946-47 which Mr
Beauclerk quotes – that would have been in Mr Medlar’s time, before I
went to SGS. I do remember another recital John Ogdon gave at the
school (school year 1954-55 – John would have been 16) during Austin
Williamson’s time as Head (Austin was a keen promoter of classical music at the
school, and the music standards rose significantly during his Headship,
so no doubt he was delighted to host this recital). It was in the school
hall, and the 5th year and above were allowed to attend. However, as
it happened, our 2nd year form was being taught by John’s father at the
time in a room off the school hall, and we asked if the classroom door
could be left open so we could listen (for most, I guess, a case of ‘so
we don’t have to do any work’). ‘Joe’ Ogdon was happy to oblige, of course. For
me, already hooked on classical music, it was a revelation that someone
so young could play so well.
As an aside, it reminds me of a similar experience about three years
later listening to a concert on the BBC given by ‘a young English
cellist’, which was equally extraordinary. That Jacqueline du Pré and
John Ogdon should both have their careers terminated when so young was a
double tragedy for English music – and following on from the early death
of Kathleen Ferrier gave me a feeling that world-class English musicians
were jinxed at this time.
Back to Joe’s son John Ogdon. I was present at the recital he gave in the
Free Trade Hall, Manchester (in 1962, aged 25) immediately after he had
jointly won the Tchaikovsky prize with Vladimir Ashkenazy. Although
organised at the last moment, the concert was sell-out, and John played
the Rachmaninov Paganini Rhapsody, which came alight during the 18th
variation. He got a deserved rapturous reception.
Later, when living in Bedford, my wife and I were regular attendees at
the Dankworth’s Wavendon concert venue, and John Ogdon gave a recital
(c. 1973-ish) during a time when he was OK. The main memory (we were
sitting very close to the keyboard) was of his podgy hands/short fingers
flashing over the keyboard – he played the Busoni ‘Carmen’ fantasy, and
anyone who has heard his recording will be amazed at his ability to play
so fast with so much expression. It left us all breathless.
There are many memories of Joe Ogdon on your site, and I can’t really add
to what has been said, apart from confirming the accuracy of his throwing
skills (board cleaners and Pocket Oxford Dictionaries) at anyone in the
class he deemed worthy of such a demonstration. I also remember him
bringing in his watch that he had promised to show us – he was clearly
very proud of it – and all I can remember was that it had moon phases and
other stuff on it, so I guess was quite valuable. Yes, he was very
erratic, and regrettably his illness was clearly passed to his son, John.
I have a copy of the ‘Standian’ (1962)
which has in it Mr Ogdon’s obituary (image attached). There was a memorial
service at Stand Church, which I attended.
My special memories were of Les Lumley -
who taught me all I knew about Physics, and Fred Hill - who crouched down
in front of your desk (not very far to go down, for Fred) and just looked
up at you as you were struggling with an ‘A’ level maths question. Fred
insisted that any question could be answered on the back of a milk slip
(about 3” x 4”) – and he could usually do it in half the space. I owe a
lot to them, as I read Physics and Maths at Leeds University. I then did
post-grad work at Leeds and met my wife there, and spent many years
trying against the odds to keep my small part of British industry going. I
was a part of the industrial shake-out in the 1970s and 80s, redundant
(twice!), and decided aged 45 that as I was clearly unemployable I would
start my own company. I found two others of like mind, and as a Managing
Partner of Excel Partnership worked in about 35 countries over the next
20 years, focussing on environmental consultancy, and later IT security.
I was privileged to be the UK rep. on the ISO (International Standards
Organisation) committee which wrote many of the international
environmental standards, and with others started the Environmental
Auditor’s Registration Association (EARA – now IEMA). I retired in 2011
at 68, and am now working happily as a volunteer at the Shakespeare
Birthplace Trust in my home town of Stratford-upon-Avon.
Kind regards
Nick Lister
(SGS 1953-1962)
I guess it’s an age thing when we start to browse the
past. My memories of Stand Grammar School (1955 to 1960) are actually quite few
(perhaps a psychological erasure). I am amazed at the content of the letters;
so graphic and detailed. However, what I do recall is wizzing around the narrow
country roads of North Wales at great speed in Brien Crossfield’s open topped
Morris Minor with its semaphore indicators while on a school scout camp,
probably 1957.
The attached aerial photo is from the Manchester Evening
News December 1989 sent to me by my brother when I was living in South Africa
(perhaps to awaken the memory).
All the very best to you
Irving Schnider
Ref: Julian Ernst, who started at SGS in 1975, a year after me,
I am positive that no mortar boards were worn then. Gowns, yes, by some;
boards, no. And yes, among the some were Jasper, Tabs and Hudson but *not*
Freddie Mercury - he who owned the little brown Toyota car. Jasper, of course,
was a public transport man, while Tabs had a tan/beige-ish Saab. Haggis at that
time claimed to drive a "limousine", which was a metallic light-blue
Austin Princess. Jon Shuttleworth had his Honda C70 and occasionally discovered
his headwear had been relocated to the top of one of the "columns"
(I'm no architect) that stood on either side of the entrance doors on the car
park side.
I, too, went on a school trip to Lloret de Mar. My guess would be that it was
the same trip as that which Julian mentions. I cannot imagine that the good
people of L de M would allow a party from SGS to return. We spent a day driving
around precarious bends in search of the monastery at Montserrat (?) but, aside
from a tourist-y booklet about that, I can remember little else other than high
jinks ... and I've never been tempted to go further abroad than Ireland ever
since. Peter Bull taught French as well as Spanish and, boy, did he work hard
with me: try getting a deaf kid through modern language O levels, especially
the oral bit. Later on, when I was cramming for the Cambridge entrance exam, it
was the lady who had come from Bury Grammar who helped me brush up on my French
for the translation paper - Lauren Chatburn, later principal at Bury College. I
hope that she will not mind me saying that our one-to-ones created a certain
amount of envy.
Ian MacDonald's "pub down Park Lane" is, of course, The Parkfield. It
has had a rough ride since Trevor Lewis sold the place but is once again
active, albeit with ridiculous prices and more food than beer.
I have somewhere a class photo taken on the lawn in front of the school by
Jasper. Haggis is central and I am probably somewhere centre on the back row
(height, you see). I'll try to dig the thing out but my recollection is 1R,
1974/1975. I also have some old copies of The Standian magazine, including the
infamous expurgated version. I notice your comment that you are not exactly
awash with server space: that can be fixed. I did mention this seven years ago,
and have just noticed that message is still among this term's letters!
Haggis was merciless and seemed to take particular pleasure in attempting to
subvert the powers that be when it came to my education. He simply refused to
accept that ENT specialists and audiologists at Manchester University had
correctly diagnosed my being born with profound deafness, seemingly on the
basis that "if he can speak in anything other than a monotone then he's
fooling the medics". He was, of course, wrong and I never did get any sort
of apology for the ridiculously arrogant bullying that went on. I'm over it now
and, yes, it was a "formative experience". Still, he was better than
Mr Towey, whom my dad came rather close to legally chinning for similar
behaviour. In fact, for all the grief that he gave me, I still have respect for
Haggis, although I'm not sure that I can really explain why.
Spud Fletcher mentions the two-headed lamb in the bio lab. That exihibit was
there in my time but, oddly, I cannot recall it ever being referred to. Thus,
when I say that it was an example of Siamese birth I am merely guessing. They
were top-to-toe, ie: heads at opposite ends.
Ken Ben Len (Whitworth) had a thing about the word "rhubarb" during
my time. If you said something wrong, it was rhubarb. Perhaps it was some sort
of popular Monty Python reference or something - "get with the kids"
- but of course there was no subtitling of TV then & any subtext went
over my head. However, being useless at maths, I produced more rhubarb than
Yorkshire at that time.
Paddy McCafferty was living for a while on the Trees Estate, in a house that
backed onto the scout hut of the 18th Prestwich "Seaforths". I met
him once in Heaton Park and never lived it down. With my first girlfriend,
strolling hand-in-hand down near where the Highland cattle were pastured and
who the heck comes running in the other direction? Yup, my gym-cum-history
teacher. His eyes boggled; mine averted. She was a beautiful girl (well out of
my league, but I must've done something right at that time) and perhaps that
was why he just could not let the subject go in class for the rest of term. She
and I still meet up from time to time; he and I do not!
The last time I saw Jon Shuttleworth, the English teacher, was in his rooms at
Corpus Christi, Cambridge. I was incarcerated at Peterhouse, in my second year,
and he had taken a year's sabbatical to complete an academic book of some sort.
He had been convinced that I'd fail my Eng. Lit. A-level unless (a) I got over
my mock-shock of Larkin's crudity and (b) I stopped criticising Graham Greene
for his (perceived) obsession with Catholic motifs. I got an A and, when we met
at Cambridge, was rewarded with a nice plate of biscuits. I quite like Greene
now.
I used to return from that place with University ties for Jasper. He'd give me
some cash beforehand and I'd deliver the goods 8 or so weeks later. He'd
studied at Selwyn College but, oddly, never asked for Selwyn ties, nor did I
ever work out how he got through so many of the university ones. I once went to
his house in Glossop, when his mother was still alive. A brilliant bloke and
teacher: the best I had and probably will ever have in any sphere. Anyone who
can get a complete mathematical demic through O Level is a genius. Plus, he was
a dab hand with electronics for Clanger's model railway club!
And speaking of Clanger, I saw him perhaps 15 years ago after making a special
trip to a model railway exhibition at Rochdale for that purpose. He had not
changed one bit, and in the rarified environment that was (is?) railway
modelling, he had quite a reputation. Various things in modelling magazines
etc, mostly on a Welsh narrow gauge theme.
Pele is right about "Only stiffs carried their briefcases by the handle.
The cool guys carried it in their arms like a sack of spuds." Still, we
were not as far out as the famed Josh Cooper at Bletchley Park, who used to be
seen leaving the premises with his briefcase on his head, holding his trilby
tightly in his right hand. I vaguely recall doing some sort of blocked-out
artwork on my school bag: cut out some letters, stick 'em on and then liberally
apply car spray paint. Blondie, probably. Everyone else was into Rush et sim,
aside from Dave Bowker - the Abba man.
Howard Joseph mentions Mr Schlesinger teaching French, and I notice Rob Russell
explaining his 4 years or so as sole German teacher. Did Schlesinger take on
the teaching of German after Rob Russell left? My middle brother, Paul, took
German O Level and I'm fairly sure that it was Schlesinger who saw him through.
I recall one particular Speech Day occasion at the Free Trade Hall when someone
threw a few bangers in an adjacent postbox. It made quite a racket - even I
heard it - but I think that the alleged culprit was only found out due to
subsequent boasting of derring-do. I could name names but the offence of
interfering with Her Majesty's mail etc would perhaps make that unwise.
"Cosello-Jones" in the John Moss Staff Room 2 cartoon is, of course,
B J Costello-Jones. (thanks, corrected! Martyn)
Was he Australian? BJCJ's standard punishment was 500 lines, doubled for each
subsequent infraction. I end up with something like 10,000 of the things during
one lesson, all because I kept saying that I had not cheated in the end-of-year
exam. And I hadn't, honest! He'd decided to try out the new-fangled multiple
choice system but, despite my mediocre knowledge of the classics, I found it
easy to crack the code on the day (there was one, and it was bloody obvious to
me). So, I got 100% and 10,000 lines because he couldn't set an exam properly.
My school report shows that 100%, and even now I wouldn't know my ars (sic)
from my elbow. Ho hum.
I think that the un-named face to the right of Moss in the cartoon may well be
Brian Taylor, a maths teacher with a PhD who ran the chess club. But I won't
swear to it because I cannot be sure whether he was among the reprobates of
"2" or the high-faluters of "1".
Martin Harper mentions "Marc Campion, Alex Bamford, Vallers
Valentine" on the Germany football trip. That would have been their O
Level year, as they were in my cohort. I'd grown up with Marc from Higher Lane
Infants, I think, but never saw him after 1979 until last year, 2012. There I
was, striding through the rain to the Eagle on a dark night; I passed someone
waiting for a taxi on the car park and the next thing I know is a vaguely heard
shout and then a tap on the shoulder. That was Marc. 33 years on is not quite
40, but either he should be working for one of the forensic facial
reconstruction outfits or I am ageing less than I feel! Alas, the taxi turned
up moments later and I've heard nothing since. Martin also mentions Steve Ward
as a buddy - just go down to Sedgley Park RUFC and you'll find him there, along
with John Grundy and other Standians of that generation.
Jim Alderson mentions Ian Birtwell, who also played at SPRUFC way back before
he emigrated to Canada and managed their national team. We exchanged emails a
few years ago.
More recently, I've found myself dealing with an eclectic mix of technical
problems involving IT, plumbing and electrics for Paul Latham, currently
Treasurer of the OSA. We cannot recall our paths crossing at school but he must
have known one or both of my brothers. I keep meaning to ask whether his dad,
Dave, is also an Old Standian but, well, between all the spitzensparken, I keep
forgetting.
Simon Tushingham 1974-81
simon AT tushingham.net
Oh, does anyone know the whereabouts of John Devine, who suffered the Haggis
badly due to his father's alleged connections to the Communist Party. His dad
was an academic at Manchester University and lived on Hamilton Road. I have a
gut feeling that John fared better than his younger brother on the Haggis front
because he was a pretty decent sportsman. I'll have to start listing names at
some point but right now recall Pete Geelan, Graham Haggerty, Keith Yates, Daz
Fretwell, Ewan More, Tony Norton, Chris Bailey, two different Raggetts, Chris
Mills, Russ Farrington, Tom Farley, Steve Harwood, Mark Phillips ... I could go
on.
Fabulous site. What was it about Stand that has us all now in our later middle
age trawling the web to relive the thrashings, knuckle rappings and downright
gratuitous violence that along with a certain breed of northern comedian, were
the accepted order of the day? Happy times when you look back, though back then
some days seemed like some of the teachers there were just in it to make your
life a misery! I was there from 1974 to 1979 and then for two years when it became
a sixth-form college after that. Some of my memories are:
- Getting thrashed by
- Cedric Cheetham building his tractor in the metalwork
dungeons, sticking your finger over the nozzle for the lathe coolant, a
kind of milky-looking chemical and firing it at the nearest pupil. His
successor Mr Furber and his first day 'we are not friends, I am your teacher
and you will obey me' speech.
- Willy P Birch and the 'see how the Potassium
Permanganate brings up the worms from these one metre square bits of
wood’. Why? All the pickled specimens of animals in the biology lab and
its strange smell.
- Haggis and the hose up the arse cold showers and
playing football down on the bottom field wearing only pumps and shorts in
the middle of winter.
- Paddy McCaff and his 'I'll take any six of you on now,
in the gym'. Being on the bottom field for a fight and then Paddy showing
up and ordering an impromptu press-up session, slippering those not doing
it properly. Imagine a teacher now being able to get kids to do that?! His
cross-country runs past
- Towey and his 60-a-day voice (don't even know if he
smoked) and being pulled up by the sideburns after entering a classroom
and telling Tim Barnes to 'sit down and shut up' only to find Towey hiding
behind the door. 'Have you taken leave of your senses lad, are you out of
your tiny little mind?' etc etc. Being covered in chalk dust from the
board rubber and ordered to report back to the staff room at 4 o'clock
looking exactly the same.
- Babs Bunting and her loose at the bottom, tight at the
top bell bottoms. Jenny Saunders and Lauren Chatburn, sultry English and
French teachers, inspiring many a reluctant linguist.
- Freddie Mercury leaving with a nervous breakdown.
Snowball fights and ruler twanging during his lessons
- Ken Ben Len (Mr Whitworth) and locking him in the store
cupboard of 3G, room 31 or 32 I think
- Jasper, one of the best teachers in the place, crawling
on his hands and knees from Glossop, even at weekends
- Keith Bradshaw. What a twat. Belted me hard across the
head once in history and I realised then the meaning of the expression 'my
ears were ringing'. Greg Byrne telling him to fuck off in the toilets of
the Church Inn in Prestwich after Bradshaw recognised him when we were 18 or
19 and asked 'Byrne isn't it?' He forever regretted not pissing on KB's
shoes.
- The Eckythump incident and the 'Crook is innocent'
blackboard scribblings for days after.
- Mr Olswezski, French teacher. Great guy, we used to
spend all lesson reading copies of Paris Match.
- Hairy Heinz and that cancerous looking growth
- The guy who looked like a 60s beatnik with long hair
and glasses, taught Latin and Russian. Eventually left to join the KGB I
think. Don’t remember his name. His replacement was a deaf guy called
Whewell I think. ‘You boy, what’s your name?’ ‘Abbott sir.’ ‘Come here
Harold’. ‘No, Abbott sir’. ‘Apple – get to the front boy’.
- Smelly, Haggis, Captain Explainer (Broadbent) and Baz
Brookes's card school. Unable to work out how Haggis could have been Smelly’s
teacher when they both looked about the same age.
- Being at the Free Trade Hall for Speech Night and
everyone murmuring 'Steeeeeve' on cue about a poor blonde lad with glasses
who's surname I don't remember but who's only crime was probably to have been
a bit more studious then everyone else!
- 'Clanger' Clarke, physics teacher and the main reason I
skived off for six weeks. After all the fuss had died down, my dad, a no
nonsense kind of Irishman, went in to see him and DB called both him and
me out of a physics class into the area near the staff room where my dad
told him he would snap him in two if he kept on thrashing me for getting
less than full marks in various tests. Left me alone after that.
- The competition to see who could steal the most unusual
item from Presto's at lunchtime, eventually won by Pazzy (Andrew Parish)
who got out with a frozen turkey under his blazer.
And many more.
Congratulations on the site, some great stories on there.
I like a lot of other people, stumbled upon it and then spent hours going
through all the posts and reliving my days at Stand. I now live in Northern
Spain, run a dog training supplies company, am married with three kids but get
back to Manchester about once a month. Sad to see new houses where the school
once was.
I am still in touch regularly with Greg Byrne (in fact we
will be walking from Seville to Caceres in April 2013 to ‘celebrate’ being 50 –
we did the Camino de Santiago from Pamplona to Santiago when we turned 40),
Mike Higgins (now a pilot and living in California), Tim Barnes came to visit
us a couple of years ago here, Jonny Ashley we see infrequently but great guy,
Mr Manchester Music as he is known but not many others unfortunately. Anyone
who remembers any of us, please feel free to drop me a line at sean@cannyco.com and I will be glad to put
them in touch.
Good luck with the site, keep it up – a great source of
info for the yoof of today!
Kind regards
Sean McElherron
My name is Steve Brooks (Bean). I was a student at Stand Grammar
between 74-79 and then on to Stand 6th Form College until 81.
I started off in 1R with Haggis (of course) and remained in
Ragdale until 3rd year where I was turfed into 3E with the 'less academic'
students.
Favourite Teacher - Had to be Jasper. I owe my knowledge of
maths to him. I still remember when he asked the class to come up with
alternative phrases in the maths solutions to the usual, therefore, hence and
thus etc. The best alternative was 'it came to pass...' which had the class in
hysterics.
Biggest Crush - Babs Bunting. Me and my mate, Pete Geelan
(Grob) used to fantasize about Babs Bunting's A**e.
Most violent teacher - Paddy McCaff talked a good story, either
about his expolits as a Man. U fan or in Phillips Park Hall. Mind you I did see
him whack the hell out of little Alan Smith. However the most violent act
witnessed was by Crouchley in an engineering drawing class. He completely lost
it and knocked this poor lad from pillar to post. With his Bobby Charlton
style hair in font of his face he looked like a madman. Even in woodwork he
used to hit people over the head with a piece of rawley (a wood I have never
come across since).
Funniest moment - I missed the Ecky thump escapade for some
reason. However I did have a complete attack of the giggles (tuning into
howling guffaws) in a physics class with Mr. Fenwick. Don't know why but it may
have something to do with a lunch time visit to the Church Inn/Foresters Arms?
That'll do for now. Would be interested in corresponding with
anyone else from the same era.
regards
Steve (Bean) Brooks
buryblackpudding@gmail.com
In the 1963/64 season our cross-country team was almost
invincible - played 27, won 26 - sorry, can't remember who it was that
beat us.......may have been the day I forgot to show up (aaagh!)
This from 'The Standian' Summer 1964 p46:
Cross-Country “…Reinforcements have come from the Welsh mountains
in the form of K.D. Jones, whose fiery Celtic temperament has established him
as a vital and popular member of the team, whenever he has remembered to turn
up…'
For the record, I appeared for Cardiff on University Challenge on 2 occasions
in October 1967. We beat Oxford...
Keith
Jones keith@winnipegwelsh.org
Hello Martyn
It’s New Year’s Eve and
while idly Googling I came across the Stand Grammar School site you maintain.
What a feast! Thank you
for everything you do to maintain such beautiful memories.
I’ll be joining as a
Life Member, if you’ll have me, and contribute something of interest soon. With
LOTS of Qs! But I can’t resist asking one right now: who was the short,
pointy-featured Latin master then with greasy black hair – was he Mr. Beardsley?
And another one:
whatever happened to the Honour Roll from the assembly hall – was it retrieved
before the demolition? I think my name was on it.
Please add me to your
e-mail list – I’d love to attend next year’s dinner – will it be in November
again?
This is the best New
Year’s treat I could have possibly imagined.
Roger Hodkinson
1955 – 1961 (Form
1C >> 3E >> 4L >> 6/7th Biology form under Willie
P >> read medicine at Corpus Christi/Cambridge. I remember Lawrence
Libman and David Grimes who both did medicine at Manchester University I
believe).
1.780.909.0577 This is Canada – I live in Edmonton,
Alberta – semi-retired pathologist – currently Chairman of a San Diego
biotechnology company (MultiGEN Diagnostics Inc.)
Correction Martyn. Rusty synaptic connection occurred while shaving: the
Latin master's name was Mr. Baird. Are you able to confirm?
Cheers
Roger
Hi Martyn, it would be great for you to keep the site going, tho I appreciate the effort it takes.
I was in 1S in 1976, went all the way thru and did A's at then Stand College Despite now being in flooded Berkshire, still keep in touch with some of my old mates to the extent that a bunch are going on a Stag weekend to Berlin next month! Of the 10, I think at least 7 were at SGS or Stand College!! That makes it 30+ years of keeping in touch - not bad?
I have a whole bunch of my own stories and will leave you this one...
Back then the ethnic population was small in Prestwich and Whitefield, resulting in one boy per year being non Caucasian! I was that person in 1976, and because I also 'played' footy on the tennis courts during break and dinner time was nicknamed 'Pele' !!
The name has stuck decades after to the extent that even my old uni mates on occasion use it!!
Pls keep the site going, it is appreciated as the letters keep coming
Many thx, Rupe
Rupe Patel
Hi Martyn.
thanks for the memories of my old school days at
Radcliffe Hall and Stand. I was in the year above you at school. Stand
was a tough school but certainly prepared you for life. Spent most of
my time at school playing sport than swotting . Left at the end of the
fifth year started as an apprentice with Post Office telephones. Worked
my way through the ranks to become the North West Copper Planning
Manager eventually retired after forty one years service with the same
company not bad for someone who left school with only three O Levels.
keep up the good work. Best wishes Graham ( or Bentlegs )
Dear Martyn,
I Googled Stand Grammar and came across your great website. I thought these 2 photos might be of interest to anyone in the early 70's. The tramp of the 22 men, 40 plus years on. They
are First X1's from 1970 and 1972.
1970 photo, back row, L to R: Martin (Tich) Howarth, Paul Dilworth, Sean Kernaghan, ? Bailey? Dave Cowburn, Phil Bury, Dave Singleton, Mr. Hargreaves. Front row L to R: Bernie Bligh,
John Anderton, Alan Siddall, Brian Keithley, Christopher (Harry) Dowd. There were a lot of 5th formers in the First X1 (Howarth, Dilworth, Cowburn, Bury, Singleton and Dowd.)In fact the 5th form (U.16 side) won a special 5th
form E. Lancs schools trophy, beating Bacup and Rawtenstall 5-1 in the final. Other very good 5th formers included John Woolley, SDB
Kaye, Dirk Kaye, Steve Wood, Graham (Dinks) Kirk,
Joe Chappel, Raich Carter (in nets,)
Shane Davis and Ian (Cec.) Hayes. Apologies if I have left anyone out!
The trophy in the black and white photo was the Chorlton 6-a-side cup which we won with the aid of Mr. Hargreaves' glucose sweets, and with his 4 repeated maxims : "play the way you
are facing," "go to meet the ball," " pass and run," and "to the line and back." Always shoot to the far post of course. I have to say that Mr. Hargreaves was a very inspiring manager
and really wanted us to do well. Dave Cowburn had a "lethal left" as did Alan Siddall, who I always thought played a bit
like Colin Bell.
1972 photo', back row, L to R: Dave Jones, Rob Taylor, Gaz Fielding, Billy Bingham, Fred Hoyle, Charlie Childs, Dave Singleton. Front row, L to R: Martin (Tich) Howarth,
Christopher (Harry) Dowd, John Anderton, Paul Dilworth, Graham (Dinks) Kirk, John Woolley, Gordon Ashworth. Tich Howarth, John Anderton and Paul Dilworth (me,) played for S.E. Lancs
U.18s, and I think Gaz Fielding did after I left. Maybe Gordon Ashworth did too. If he didn't he should have done. John Anderton could score with either foot and nod them in from anywhere inside the box, if not from the half way line. I believe he played for the
Old Standians in 4 decades (teens, 20's 30's and 40's) He's probably still knocking them in now.
As for sporty teachers, Mr Fisher (English) was a stylish dribbler and played the short ball game, Mr Bradshaw (History) was a good goalie, often taking a star shaped position, and Baz Brookes (Maths) was a nifty inside right if I remember. He was very helpful with the tennis
team. Mr Kershaw (P.E.) and Mr Miller (History) helped out a lot with the basketball team. Mr. Eckersley (Geography and P. E.) was very keen on the block tackle and shoulder charge. Mr. Smethurst (Maths) sometimes showed up and ran around quite happily in his 1950's football boots with massive toe caps. Mr. Smethurst was very
good at maths. I think Mr. Baxendale (Art) had a game or two as well. The Art Dept. was a refuge for us hippy dippy types. Well... I hope this stirs some memories for people. They were happy times for me. I think I got the dates about right.
Cheers, Paul Dilworth (1968 to 1972)
Hi Martyn
I’ve toyed with the idea of contacting you for
some time. I think your site is excellent and I hope you are able to
maintain it.
I attended Stand Grammar School between 1973
and 1980. I left with three “A”-levels. I didn’t go to
university immediately but I eventually completed a degree in my own
time. I was employed by the Civil Service from 1980 until my retirement
on health grounds in 2013.
I’ve read earlier contributions with
interest. They’ve brought back quite a few memories - some good, some
bad. Many contributors have mentioned the “ ‘ecky
thump” incident and the manner in which it propelled the late Daz Horn to
tabloid fame. I also remember an assembly in which the platform party was
hit by a deluge of paper planes which was launched from the balcony.
Speech Night was popular because we got half a day off and a lie-in on the
following day. The following days’ assembly was also the moment of
reckoning for lads who “over-enjoyed” the night itself - this sometimes
involved removing light bulbs from train carriages (the 6.00pm Bury to
Manchester train was often met by a detachment of British Transport
Police).
My stepson is a teacher. He was taught
to establish a “memorable persona” to enable his pupils to remember
him. I came across many such personas amongst the teaching staff at
Stand. Miss Jones had a stare which was made more creepy by her low
centre of gravity. “Paddy” McCafferty didn’t bother with a stare -
he just launched himself at anybody who broke the rules!. “Clanger”
Clarke established the facts of the case after punishing
the “guilty”. The mere appearance of “Haggis” Hargreaves
in the vicinity promoted admissions of guilt, even from the innocent.
Miss Russell could recite the contents of whole encyclopaedias without
pausing. And she was ALWAYS right!.
I haven’t met many Standians since I left.
I was in touch with Peter Maden for a while and I worked with Pete “Pele”
Brown and his wife for a brief period in the ‘noughties.
Unfortunately, one or two of the people I knew have passed away - for example,
Dave Severs died last year. We’ve also lost “Catty” Caton and the
aforementioned Daz Horn.
As I said above, there were good and bad
times. Stand gave working-class lads the chance to interact with some
genuinely inspirational teachers. However, I think that more could have
been done to protect pupils from bullying. One or two lads went through
hell - I’m sure many of us were affected from time to time.
There you have it!. I’ve wanted to set
my thoughts down for a while. There is a lot I haven’t talked about
because so many previous contributors have covered so many topics more
effectively than I could.
Please keep up the good work.
Best Wishes
Malcolm Parr
Clive House 1973-78;
mostly in the canteen listening to pirated John Peel sessions, 1979-80.
Hello Martyn
Baz Speed here.
I so enjoy reading your S.G.S site. You have put a lot of work into creating a
terrific site for reminiscing over our schooldays
It appears that I gained notoriety on my leaving day in 1958 in respect of my
altercation with my form master and Spanish teacher Boris Knott who tried to
drag me to the headmaster for
opening my school report. As Mike Passant stated in his memories of his time at
SGS Boris was my nemesis. He didn't like me for some reason and sent me to the
headmaster on a couple of occasions for the "swish." On one occasion
he made me stand outside the classroom for a full period which was obviously
conducive to my learning process. I believe I was guilty of smiling at him.
Despite Boris's best intentions I passed my G.C.E. "O" level in
Spanish. So for the simple crime of opening my school report he grabbed me by
the collar in order to drag
me to the headmaster's office for a final confrontation with Williamson's cane
culminating in one frustrated right hook to his person.
I did meet Boris some months later on the No. 6 bus on my way to Pendlebury
Library. As he departed the bus, the stop before mine, he looked at me with a
grimace and grunted
something, I think along the lines of "Hi Baz! How you doin'?"
My wife Ann and myself have lived in Northern Spain for the past 15 years and I
would like to offer my gratitude to Boris for the knowledge of the
Spanish language that he imparted on me.
I did enjoy my time at Stand and was so proud to wear the badge "Sto Ut
Serviam". All the Masters were fine by me (well maybe except for one). For
some reason Haggis never had to introduce me to Percy. I enjoyed taking part in
all sport although never excelled at any. Soccer was my favourite sport. Fellow
pupils that spring to mind were Derek Whelan, Tex and Trevor Wolstenholme and
Neil Midgely.
Mike Passant who was a classmate, and who related the Boris Knott incident to
you, was a superb athlete. As a young teenager he had a tremendous
physique and his prowess in boxing and field events was unsurpassed in my time
at Stand. I have since exchanged emails with Mike and was pleased to hear that
he is in good health after a successful career in banking from which he took
early retirement. Good for the stresslevels. His recollections of Joe Bogg's
idiosyncrasies made me laugh.
Stan Black also contributed to your site. I kept in touch with Stan. He was a
Maths teacher and gave my daughters Tracey and Jayne (pupils at Stand Girls
School) extra tuition helping them
attain their "O" Levels in the subject. I tried emailing Stan who is
now apparently in Australia but have had no response
Trevor Wolstenholme went on to play soccer professionally for Torquay United
and York City.
Neil Midgely became a top referee throughout the eighties and refereed the 1986
Charity Shield between Everton and Liverpool and the 1987 in F.A Cup Final
between Coventry and
Spurs. I met Neil in the late eighties in the Isle of Man where we owned a
small cottage. He was Guest Speaker at an annual competition on the Island for
a couple of English
and Scottish League soccer clubs and the Island team. Over the years I came
into contact with a number of ex professional soccer players who had nothing
but genuine praise for Neil's ability and understanding of the game and mainly
how he handled players in what was then a tough physical game - unlike the
prima donnas who grace the game today. Neil passed away in 2001. I'm sure that
he wouldn't have minded me recounting the following tale.
One day prior to a Maths lesson with Freddy Hill, Midge sat on the master's
table with his legs dangling over the edge mimicking Freddy's voice,
words to the effect of "Yes! Speed and
Whelan! If there is any more messing about from you can go the headmaster and
ask him to give you three of the best" Much to uproarious laughter from
the class. Unfortunately Freddy was stood at the door observing this and
responded with the words "Yes Midgely! Very funny! You can go and ask the
headmaster to give YOU three of the best." Despite protestations and
looking to giggling classmates for support ten minutes later could be heard the
sound of three sharp thwacks. Fred - You had no sense of humour!!
One of the school heroes was Bill Singleton who was Deputy Head Boy for my
first few years at Stand. He was Head boy of Ragdale - my house. In my second
year Bill lead a revolt against the quality of the awful school dinners and the
filthy drinking water.The water jugs actually had dirt in the bottom of them.
So Bill organised us to go on strike and not attend the dining hall for the
daily poison. Of course there were a few who liked pig swill but around 90% of
diners stayed away. Next morning in Assembly the Headmaster Sammy Medlar was
furious that so much lumpy potatoes and stewed cabbage had been thrown away. He
threatened recriminations against the ringleaders of the strike and vowed to
find them. Bill Singleton was stood next to him on the stage that morning
staring impassively ahead. It was Bill's turn to read a passage from the bible
as was the daily duty of one of the prefects. Such was the respect for Bill
that nobody "grassed him up" The dinners became marginally better.
Neil Midgely and myself often supplemented our diet by attending the local chip
shop.
My daughter's Tracey and Jayne both attended Stand and both excelled at sport
and attained a very good level of education. My son Stuart was also at Stand
and was a good gymnast and cross country runner and tells me that he got on
well with Haggis. Academically he was top pupil in his year. He was there at
the time of the "Ecky Thump" incident with Hudson. I would love to
know what happened to the guy who got expelled. Respect Man!
I have had an extremely varied career including three years in a rock/blues
band. We played a gig at the Star Palast in Keel, Germany. Studied accountancy,
worked at a Scrapyard, Building
Site, Steelfixer, Milkman, etc. etc. eventually ran my own successful business.
Retired Early!
Sacrilege what happened to the school. All the old plaques with sporting
achievements etc. etc. went in a skip. All that memorabilia gone!! My youngest
daughter lives on Dales Lane and when I am visiting we walk her dogs up to the
grounds of the Church and I reminisce.
Keep those memories alive Martyn
Baz Speed
Hi Martyn,
We never met, I think. Just found your site.
My email is:
thefrankmartin@hotmail.co.uk
Modest as ever!
Attended Stand 1963-1970. School Captain 1970. Two terms only. Did not do SC
Autumn term 1969 as Dave Foulkes was SC before he skived off ahead of Oxbridge,
having done and passed the Schols.
Recently met up again, for the first time since leaving Stand, with old
schoolmates Bob Muir (Trog) Morrison, Neil Mann and Trevor Lister. 40+ years
on!
Well done with the site.
All best
Frank
Dear Martyn, by sheer chance I was browsing today, wondering what had become of Derek Broadbent, Phil Hargreaves and Stand GS, when I came across the staff football team photo and the cartoon by John Moss from 1976. I don’t know what made me do this. Strange isn’t it?
I taught mathematics (or rather attempted to) at Stand from Sept 1974 until Dec 1977.
On the football team photo, I am on the back row, second from the right. John Shuttleworth is at the right hand end of the back row.
In the cartoon, that’s probably me in the gap in the back row, beneath “NE QUIS.”
We all had lots of hair in those days.
After Stand GS I became a software engineer again, and worked for Plessey in Northants before we emigrated to the US in 1983. There I continued in the same line of work, finally moving to near Portland Oregon. Our sons and grandchildren live the other side of Portland.
If you are wondering about Trump, so am I. Ah well, we shall survive.
Regards, Brian Taylor
Hi Martin – I happened to come across your site when looking up
Robert Clive’s connection with the school: inevitably, old memories were
stirred!
Here’s a couple, for starters:-
- The day
Monsieur Gasqui (spelling?) thought that he’d killed a misbehaving pupil
when, having hit him over the head with one of his fine collection of wooden
chair spindles, the weapon broke in half and the lad collapsed onto the
floor. This outcome had been brought about by Adams (Keith?), a fellow
class-member, who had sawn through the spindle and then lightly glued it
back together: we’d all been primed to react in the appropriate manner,
when that particular spindle was used. Adams, an unusual chap, was also
known for chloroforming unsuspecting third-formers, from time to time.
- The
occasion when Mr Beazley (spelling?) punished a maritime misdemeanour of
mine, by ordering me to carry the row of four rather soiled wooden
lavatory seats off the Isle of Man steamer, as we disembarked at Douglas
for our school camping holiday, near Peel, much to the amusement of our
fellow passengers.
Best wishes – Neil
Henry Neil Linaker
Wait, what? Soiled toilet seats? I needed an explanation -
Martyn
No,
no, Martyn, I wasn't held responsible for soiling them (the encrusted crud must
have been there since the previous camp), I was punished for failing to show
the requisite level of contrition for having been sick, accidentally, on the
highly polished boots of a rather forbidding gentleman, who had demanded to see
the person in charge
Yes, the reason the seats were nailed to the two parallel planks, was to
provide a stable row of four, each about 2' apart, which could be suspended
over an open pit, with the ends resting on upturned, wire-reinforced, wooden
mineral-bottle crates: a primitive arrangement it certainly was
It did strike me that, given some culinary catastrophe necessitating the
presence of four lads on the contraption, at the same time, the whole
assemblage may not have been equal to the task, but in the event, a catastrophe
was avoided because we were allowed to use the farmhands' external flushing lavatory,
instead ........ and thereby hangs another tale
As I approached the privy, one morning, it was vacated by the huge, ambling,
figure of an amiable but rather simple young fellow who worked at the farm. I
entered the closet and was immediately confronted by what must have been the
largest (in length and girth) human turd ever excreted: to this very day, the
vivid mental picture of it crouching there, half in, half out, continues to
inspire awe
What with that fearsome sight seared on my mind, together with the ever present
prospect of being carried off, during the night, by the Moddey Dhoo, which
haunted Peel Castle, just across the fields (the grim-faced farmer told us that
it was fond of boys in shorts!), I was not a little relieved to get back to
good old Prestwich
Best wishes – Neil
Why
am I even writing to a fourteen year old email address? More in hope that
expectation, I suppose!
Having idly Googled
the name of a former school teacher yesterday, I was astonished to be presented
with, not only a reference to, but a photograph of, my dear old cherished art
master, Norman Dobbin.
I knew Norman a few
years later, having started to attend Newcastle under Lyme School in 1962.
Having decided to train as an architect at the age of only fourteen, a lot of
my time was spent in the company of this charismatic (and equally irascible)
figure, who must have only joined the school a year or so before me.
You are right to
mention his temper. I remember, on one occasion, him breaking thirteen wooden
T-squares over his knee, until he found one that wasn’t ‘notched’. He
frequently used drawing boards as Frisbees, hurling them across the studio if
he was ‘out of sorts’ (usually as a result of running out of ciggys before
morning break). We had to dive for cover behind the furniture – but it was all
part of the Dobbin legend! He terrorised the younger pupils by bodily picking
them up, chair and all, to give them an eye-to-eye dressing down, following
which he would simply let chair and child crash down to earth again from
shoulder height.
He taught me to
fire a 303 – which was mandatory at the school in those days. He had by then,
forgone the scouts and had become ‘Major Dobbin’ leading the Army section of
the school’s CCF.
He claimed to have
served in the Indian Army before joining the world of teaching – whether this
was true or not, I know not, but I believe it.
He was a very
inspirational teacher. He made it clear that he had no intention of making the
four of us who chose ‘A’ Level Art and Architecture do any actual work – but,
if we wanted to work, he would help us ‘above and beyond’, which he certainly
did. If you, as a pupil, were committed, he was the best.
I remember a
particularly bed winter in the early ‘60s. Snow was falling thickly, and Norman
lived at Eccleshall – about twelve miles away from the school. He made it in
his car about two miles, before abandoning it at Hanchurch. Rather than walk
back to Newcastle, and face the prospect of being ‘marooned’ at school, (and
hence having to work every day, including covering for those who couldn’t get
back into work because of the snow), he determinedly set out, on foot, and
walked the remaining ten miles home to Eccleshall in deep and driving snow, in
order to ensure that he couldn’t get back to work for the next week! That’s
dedication!
(Mind you, he
wasn’t wearing a kilt on that occasion!)
I hope that someone
receives this post, and that it brings back some fond memories.
Personally, I will
always owe Norman a huge debt. He was simply superb at his job – although he’d
probably deny it to his dying day!
Paul Dinsdale
Dear Martyn
Quite by accident I discovered your website with
all the wonderful reminiscences of life at SGS. It is a great website and thank
you for putting it together.
I was at SGS from April 1961 to
July 1967 and have many happy memories.
I transferred at the age of 13 from Heys Boys
Secondary Modern (Heinz Beans, Sausage and Mash) in Prestwich at Easter
1967.
I failed my 11plus twice - at 11 and again
at 12. But as I was in the top 3 at Heys, I was offered a transfer to SGS. It
was a difficult transition, as I had never done any French or algebra- just
arithmetic. Both my parents had left school at 15 and couldn't help me.
So when I arrived at Stand, my first French verb
was 'prendre' (not avoir or etre).
We had a fearsome teacher called Mr Bradley,
commonly known as ' Chester' .
When he asked me to read a passage in French out
aloud, everyone burst into laughter. My pronunciation was way off the
mark. It was all so new to me.
In my first exams at SGS in July 1961, I
got 13% for Maths, 13% for French and 19% for Science.
But things did get better, and in the 5th form I
was awarded the Royle Improvement Prize.
John Whitworth (Joe Whit) was probably my
favourite teacher, who guided me through Maths and inspired me with his amazing
knowledge of medieval architecture. I remember him taking me to Fountains Abbey
in his Hillman Minx- sheer luxury in those days. My Dad couldn't afford a car
so such a trip out was very memorable.
Music was terrifying at the time -
though I have come to love all aspects of it since Wimpy Longstaff beat out the
notes of the 'Ash Grove' on his blackboard. I now sing in the Royal Dunedin
Male Choir in Dunedin, New Zealand.
PE was also a nightmare. I think in one lesson I
was hit over ten times with ' Percy the Pump' from our good friend Mr
Hargreaves (Haggis). Boys would spend the previous lesson whitening their shoes
under the cover of the desk lid ! I hated cross country and got pulled up
on one occasion for taking a short cut.
Ivor Jones threatened to not enter me for
the Woodwork O-level exam, as three hours into the 4-hour mock exam, my
chisel slipped and I had to sneak up to the glue pot which was perpetually
simmering in Ivor's workshop. Ivor was livid in finding evidence of glue on my
work.
John Hunter was a favourite for History, and I
got to know him well when I played Thomas More in the school play, Robert
Bolt's ' A Man for All Seasons' . I remember that Lawrence
McGinty played the Common Man and was supposed
to chop my head off as the stage blacked out. But one time he caught me with
the blade of the hardboard axe and I had a mark on my neck for several
weeks afterwards.
But I got into the National Youth Theatre
in the summer of 1966 and acted with Helen Mirren in Antony and Cleopatra in
the now demolished Scala Theatre in the West End- I was in Caesar's army just
back from the Egyptian desert!
Whilst History was probably my favourite
subject, I did enjoy Geography and had Geoffrey (Chippy) Wood and Ralph Bailey.
Chippy was fairly benign, but Mr Bailey could be interrogating and at
times rather sarcastic. He told my Dad at the parents evening early in
1967 that I would probably fail Geography ' A' level. But when I got an 'A', he
wrote to congratulate me and to apologise for the sarcasm.
I was a prefect in 1966/67 when Paul Hindle was
Head Boy.
I left Stand in July 1967, and then went to
Sheffield to study Geography. Then a spell of teaching in Doncaster.
But I got fascinated with Africa and
decided to go to Birmingham University to read African Studies for an MA,
followed by a PhD with fieldwork in Sierra Leone in 1974. I still go there
regularly and was made an honorary chief in 2014 - my 40th
anniversary!
From 1975-2004, I taught Geography in the School
of African and Asian Studies at Sussex University. Since 2004, I have been
based at Otago University in Dunedin, New Zealand, where I teach Geography. I
am planning to retire in a couple of years and will probably move back to UK.
But I still have both vivid and very happy
memories of my time at Stand and would love to have a reunion with students of
my cohort.
The Old Standians website is wonderful, and I
have thoroughly enjoyed reading the recollections of other past students.
Best wishes to you and to all the 'old
boys' Tony Binns
Author: Martyn Arnold
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