Open Writing

Like most schools in 1946, the secondary boys' section of Stanhope Road School was severely overcrowded. There were over 400 pupils and about 10 teachers. A major shortage of rooms meant the science laboratory on the top floor was used as a classroom. The Headmaster and most of the staff came to school on bicycles as petrol was still rationed and motor cars were at a premium.

On that first morning at my new school, I was taken by the Headteacher to form 1A. The form master was George Taylor who also taught Science and French. The first thing he asked me was, "Do you know anybody in this class?" Without looking round I answered, "No." Surprisingly, someone put their hand up and said, "I know him." It was Jack Finch who lived near my sister in Cranford Street. He helped me a great deal during those first few days in a strange environment. Cyril Halliday, the son of my mother's friend Ethel, was also two years ahead of me, so the new lad at Stanhope was not entirely without friends.

During the first week, I made a short-term enemy who turned out to be a long-term friend. He was Andrew Kinelato, a tall, well-built, extrovert of a lad, whose overactive tongue often got him into trouble. He was a real chatterbox and couldn't understand my quiet independence. We made friends on the football field and amazingly, our career and sporting paths ran parallel for about ten years after we left school.

The second morning at school, the class was exposed to a military-like induction by a Mr Brown. He taught us how to stand to attention, turn left and right and march into school. I think he thought he was still in the army! By using the military method of the tallest on the right, shortest on the left, I discovered I was the third tallest in a class of forty, many of whom still wore short trousers and a cap. Caps did not last long as they were an invitation to bullying. I recall many a group of classmates standing around in a circle, throwing a stolen cap around as the poor victim struggled to repossess his headgear.

Starting at the secondary school was a real benchmark and eye-opener in many ways. First, I had never been taught by a man before – there was not a female teacher in the school. Second, I had never been in a boys-only class before. Third, I was used to having one teacher for all subjects in one classroom. Now we had a different teacher for every different subject and moved around the school to different classrooms. It took some getting used to! Perhaps the biggest change was in the curriculum. If I remember correctly, every form master taught his class Mathematics and English but we had specialist teachers in different rooms for Art, History, Geography, Science, French, Music, P.T., Football/Cricket and either Woodwork or Metalwork. We also went to Derby Street baths and had swimming instruction for a term in Year 1. It was unusual for French to be taught in a Secondary School, and even though we were the 'A' form, we made such a mess of it, that it was dropped for Year 2. After a year's tuition, my French language skills amounted to:

a Paris, a Paris (to Paris, to Paris)
a mon petit cheval gris (on my little grey horse).

Most of the specialist rooms were completely new to us. The Science laboratory was on the top floor of the three-storey building. To get there we had to pass the girls' school on the first floor. Here we usually lost an occasional pupil, who would deliberately wander into the girls' domain, looking for the Science lab. The laboratory itself was a large room with a gas tap on each desk. I think the ever-open window saved us from being gassed by pupils who continually played with these new toys.

The metal and woodwork workshops were in a separate building. These were very well resourced with such things as a drilling machine, lathes and a furnace. I believe this extra investment was based on the assumption that most pupils would be going on to craft/skill jobs. Half the class had to 'do' metalwork and the other half, woodwork. I well remember the selection technique used. The metalwork benches were slightly higher than the woodwork benches; therefore the twenty tallest
'did' metalwork and the rest woodwork. I often wondered if this produced a lot of small joiners and tall fitters in the town?

Perhaps the building we enjoyed most was the gymnasium. Here, clad only in a pair of shorts – which we had to supply ourselves – and under Jack Shipley's (the P.E. teacher) instruction we had to climb ropes, jump over vaulting boxes, walk on upturned forms and attempt team games using heavy medicine balls. At the end of the lesson, we were all perspiring, and it was then that Jack Shipley took great delight in introducing us to compulsory communal showers. This was completely new and several pupils were shy and highly embarrassed. Undeterred, the shower enforcer shouted, "Come on lads, don't be shy – you've all got the same."

To this day, I can still hear heavily built Andy Kinelato replying in a hushed . voice, "Yes, but some of us have a lot more than others."