Teachers
When I arrived at St Georges Avenue in September 1949, there were several teachers who left before the 1952 photo was taken.
Mr. Robb was a tall man with a fine head of silver hair who taught Maths to senior pupils. I first saw him coming down the stairs from ‘A’ corridor and, to a small boy, he seemed to be ten feet tall. I think he was a Scot. He retired sometime before Summer 1951.
Leo Mullinger taught us Maths and Music in Class 1B, and English and Music in 2B. I understood that he had retired from some other school and had come to THS to help out in a teacher shortage. He finally retired in Summer 1951. He was a bald man with a kindly but careworn face. This is understandable for a man who had to listen to thirty adolescent boys torturing Linden Lea and other masterpieces.
Glyn Jones was games master – one of a number who I detested over the years - not because they were unpleasant people but because they wanted me to be fit. Mr Jones played for The Saints in the late forties. He was succeeded for a short time by Mr Collins who I believe either came from, or went to, the Grammar school. Mr Lewis followed him.
Art was taught us by Miss Hartwell and Mrs Cubitt but I think they may have been on the staff of the Art School.
Taffy Newell was a kindly and well respected teacher who, in my time at school at least, never awarded a detention—except one. For some reason two forms had been placed together in one room - probably the Science room B1 - with Taffy and another teacher in attendance. Some minor misdemeanour occurred and the second master cornered Taffy with the chilling words: “Mr Newell, will you please award this boy a detention.” Was this, I wonder his only time?
Science room B1 was a proper lab with benches, sinks and gas taps although we pupils studying for GCE General Science only sat in there on high stools and copied into our notebooks what Taffy wrote on the blackboard. Nevertheless the spirit of experimentation was there in all pupils and this manifested itself as use of the gas taps. In consequence the atmosphere in the science room usually reeked of coal gas and no doubt we all went home with extra carbon monoxide in our bloodstreams. For variety, the nearby labs used by the CAT students were home to real experiments and the evidence of this was that, fume cupboards notwithstanding, the corridor outside these rooms usually reeked of either hydrogen sulphide or carbon disulphide or a combination.
Gunner
Gunner Wright seems to be a popular topic for debate. I witnessed an episode of extreme heroism (or foolhardiness) involving him in about 1954. Our Fifth Form French class was taking place in room D19 shortly before the GCE’s and no doubt some pupils were anticipating freedom from the yoke! For some unaccountable reason a classmate who was small in stature and modest in nature uttered these words to Gunner:
“YOU ARE A POMPOUS TWIT.”
Personally I can still feel the ominous silence which followed this pronouncement, and can visualise the brilliant red colour as it spread across Gunner’s face. After a few seconds time restarted; Gunner took the direct route to his critic, scattering furniture as he did so, and did, as I recall belabour him about the head in a manner that would cost the master his job these days.
Although the violence was startling at the time, I would hope that the pupil has felt a sense of satisfaction through his life that he did a job which needed doing!
Another Gunner Tale
At the end of my Fifth Form year, it was assumed that GCE results permitting, I would return as one of two Sixth Form students, both studying Arts subjects. However, my career took an unexpected turn! One Saturday morning in August when I was blissfully isolated from school and responsibilities in general, I answered a knock at the door of my home. To my great shock I was confronted by the modern equivalent of the Press Gang in the form of JR Burn and either S Guffogg or JJ Nortney, These gentlemen had personally delivered my GCE results together with the School’s amended recommendations for my immediate future. Because I (and the whole class) had failed Eng. Lit., it was now suggested that I should transfer to a Maths and Science theme. How my messengers had managed to run this past Gunner I can’t imagine, but being a malleable soul and without ambition, I readily took the advice.
When School resumed, I expected to be approached by Gunner saying how sorry he was that I had decided to take my business elsewhere, rather like British Gas. In the event he neither looked at me, nor spoke to me, ever again.
The Admiral
Lance (The Admiral) Duckett came to teach at St Georges Avenue in Autumn 1950. He taught Mathematics to my class (2B) for the session. In particular he taught us Trigonometry seemingly ad infinitum. He went on at an increasingly leisurely pace covering all the characteristics of the right angled triangle, making the subject more interesting by introducing nautical details: we were encouraged to decorate our triangles with “opposites” which were ships’ masts, possibly with pennants, or funnels or cliffs or even lighthouses, and ‘adjacents’ which might have been beaches or stretches of ocean. All this marine activity went on until Easter plus or minus a little and then one day with the terse comment “Right, now we must crack on” we proceeded to cover the bulk of the year’s content in roughly one term. We boys didn’t find out exactly what had happened of course, but maybe two pages of the syllabus had stuck together, or perhaps it was a unique case of “Please Class, the dog ate my syllabus”.
In subsequent years Mr Duckett went on to teach us Geometrical and Mechanical Drawing up to GCE level. He made it very interesting and enjoyable, even without the frills and spills of his Trig. technique.
Buzzer
I have occasionally wondered over the past fifty years or so, why Mr Howard was awarded the nickname “Buzzer”. The word handed down when I joined in 1949 was that it was derived from the electro acoustic devices installed at various places in B corridor at the St Georges Avenue site to register the cardinal points of the school day. These were apparently Mr Howard’s brainchild, but were not in fact buzzers but bells. If staff nicknames were intended to be derisive, then perhaps “Bel” or even “Belle” would have would have served better!
Mr Howard did in fact have another short term nickname applied by aficionados of the “Eagle” comic and the “Dan Dare” cartoon in particular. Dan Dare’s principal adversary was a small green being called the “Mekon”. This creature had a large head and was definitely up to no good, and so for a short time the headmaster was the Mekon for some of us.
I have in my mind a picture of Mr Howard and his deputy Mr Tompkins
promenading along B corridor from their office to room B16 for morning
assembly. The head in his academic gown gliding effortlessly along,
rather like the Mekon on its “anti-gravity” conveyance, (albeit with a
slightly dodgy suspension), and the rather hefty and venerable Percy
Tompkins attempting no doubt to engage in erudite conversation and
breathe at the same time.
The bell it may be said, was not a very reliable indicator and sounded
“more not than often”. I guess it depended how many balls Miss
Wilkinson had in the air at the time.
Mr Howard’s habit each morning was to stand at the top of the stairs outside his office in order to inspect the boys as they streamed past him to class. I suppose that he occasionally did discuss with some their progress or perhaps the lack of it, but the words that I recall were the administrative gem: “Boy there. Pick up that piece of paper.” [Editors Note: It had not changed much ten years later!]
Mr Tompkins controlled his class through “respect”. He was stern and I don’t ever remember seeing him smile. However I would myself prefer a stony glance from him to a smile from his successor. My memory is that if Gunner smiled at you he probably had something unpleasant up his sleeve.