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"Looking back to those days of old ere the gate shut to behind me..."
From 'The Golden Age' by Kenneth Grahame.
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The above photo was taken in September 1967 by departing teacher Mrs. TIGHE (not sure about the spelling, to be honest), in front of the annexed huts in the grounds of my primary school. I can actually recall the photo being taken, and can only assume that Mrs. Tighe wanted a memento of her 'angelic' pupils to look back on in later years. Maybe she was just trying out for a career as a photographer though, as she made copies available (can't recall whether she charged us or not) to those of us who wanted one.
The image is off-centre, as you can see, but I decided to leave it uncropped in order to make an ego-feeding speculation. The exact middle of the photo lies between myself (I'm wearing my blue jumper, but that wasn't the day I was at the zoo with DOUGAL and FATHER TED) and DAVID DRUMMOND (on my left), and I can't help but think that Mrs. Tighe naturally gravitated towards me as the most obvious centre of attention. (I know what you're thinking, but I prefer my version.)
The blond boy on crutches further along in the same row is GAVIN REID, alas now sadly deceased. He had his right leg strapped up behind him all through primary school (due to some medical condition), and it came as a surprise when I later saw him in secondary school walking normally without the crutches. He started secondary the year after me, so he may have discarded the crutches in his last year at primary, or in the school holidays between changing schools. He was killed in a motorbike accident, aged only about 18 or 19, I think, in the late '70s. (Update: ROBERT BAIRD, next to him on the left of the picture, died of Covid in January of 2021, and ALAN BOWIE, far left, end row, died of cancer in January of 2013, though I didn't learn of his demise until over ten years later in September of 2023.)
Not long before Gavin died, my parents told me that someone had asked them if they were "Gordon Robson's mum and dad" as they waited at a bus stop, and when they confirmed that they were, asked them to pass on his regards. "Gavin Reid was his name" they said, recounting the incident to me when they got home that night. Poor Gavin. To endure a childhood infirmity for so long, and then be cut short in his prime. He used to play football in the playground, using his crutches for support as he kicked the ball around, or sometimes using one of them to blooter the ball between the 'goalpost jumpers'. I can still see him in my mind's eye to this day, hopping around as fast as any jackrabbit ever could.
Returning to David Drummond, he used to trot along to my house on November 5th for two (maybe three) years in a row, in order to partake in our 'Bonfire Night' celebrations. Lest you think we indulged on a grand scale, let me disabuse you of any such notion by revealing that it consisted mainly of waving sparklers around and setting off a couple or so bangers, with a handful of rockets from the smallest box of fireworks available. Nothing grand by any means, but David's parents didn't observe the 'Fawkes festivities', so he shared in our meagre show held within the perimeters of our back garden.
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| A 2023 replacement for the Santa Raymond gave me |
Three along from me on my right is RAYMOND BENNIE, who emigrated to Australia around '68 or '69. I haven't seen him since and sometimes wonder what happened to him and whether he's ever been back to visit. On the only occasion I was ever in his house, he gave me a stuffed Santa (which may have been a cat's toy) and I have fond memories of me and my brother playing 'dodge it' as we tried to hit each other with poor ol' Mr. Claus from opposite sides of our bedroom on Saturday or Sunday mornings.
At least two other people in the photo (AUDREY HAMILTON and GORDON FAIRBAIRN) also emigrated Down Under in later years, Louise/Audrey around 1983, and Gordon in '88 or '89. I know Australia's a big place, but I'd like to think that they run into each other on occasion and reminisce about happy days gone by. Just imagine that, in the fullness of time, everyone in the photo (apart from myself) were to emigrate over there - I wonder if they'd even remember me?
Ah, so many familiar faces, so many meandering memories. Funny how events from around 46 years ago can sometimes seem as fresh and as close as what happened only yesterday.
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26 years ago, I returned to the playground with a framed copy of the photo from 20 years before, and snapped myself beside it on the same spot. The annexed wooden huts had been gone for some years by then. The school will follow them into oblivion in a few months from now.
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| Me, with photo to my right, in front of the former site of the huts in September 1987 |
4 comments:
Kid, about 5 years ago I was driving near an area where I lived in between the ages of 4 and 9. A burst of a melancholy/nostalgic/bluesy sort of a mood came over me remembering my early days in primary school came over me. Driving past said school, where I attended from 1964 to 1968, I made my way to the school office declaring that I was due to move in locally and asked if I could look around the school, have a prospectus etc. for my son to attend This little white lie was rewarded with a grand tour in a building that had barely changed in 40 odd years. Memories came flooding back like a mini torrent. The canteen/assembly hall where on wet lunch hours we were all herded in to sing songs like She Will Be Coming Round The Mountain When She Comes, Old McDonalds Farm etc. The cloakroom where an older boy took out his glass eye and showed me his eye socket was another 'favourite' blast from the past!
Happy days, Ken.
Given the current security concerns in regard to schools these days, Ken, it's a wonder you weren't strip-searched, DNA swabbed and photographed. I contacted one of my old schools once about the possibility of gaining access to photograph it for posterity. I made clear that I would prefer after school hours as I didn't want any pupils obscuring the view of hallways, classrooms and corridors, but dear oh dear - you could have cur their suspicion with a knife. It's this kind of paranoid thinking that has led to schools looking like more like prisons, what with security gates, razor-wire fences and the like. The sad fact is that anyone intent on harming kids and their teachers merely has to wait outside the premises until the school finishes for the day, and then let rip from the back of a van with his automatic rifle.
Sadly, all our innocence has been destroyed by the actions of a few nutters who there's really no way of stopping if they're determined enough.
However, on a happier note, I'm glad you got to relive your schoolkid days one more time, as did I on more than one occasion. You may be also interested in my posts 'Belmont on Boxing Day' and 'The Best Days of Our Lives'.
Kid, the fact that the school was struggling at the time to make up their pupil numbers and was facing a possible closure may have helped my request. Happily the school is still open.
Ken.
It's just like stepping back in time walking down the corridors again, isn't it? The years just roll away.
(Originally posted 7 July 2013 at 21:37.)
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