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No 92 / January 2021
The Old Stationer
Number 92 - January 2021
OSA Photographic competition - "holiday/schools out"
Winner: Sixth Form Summer Holidays in 1952.
Peter Doust poncing about on the bow while the others battled with the
controls. Not sure how we got our hands on a big sailing boat.
Runner-up. 1959 at the Dolphin Holiday Camp in Brixham. The Boys
in the Band. Mike Smithwick, Alan Graver, John Willliams. Cidge Cole
and Richard Osborne
The second OSA Photographic Competition
had as its theme “HOLIDAYS – School’s
Out”. We were looking for holiday portraits
especially if they related to School Holidays.
The theme of “Holidays” was chosen as this
is when we all have fun and we hoped that
the photographs would reflect this. A lot of
us did not have cameras in the early days of
our school life, and they were pretty basic, so
we did not really know what to expect in
terms of entries. However, we received 23
entries from which we chose a winner and a
runner-up. The winner is to get a bottle of
champagne, presented to him at the AGM
in May 2021 where it is our intention to
display some of the entries.
We used the following criteria to choose the
winner: composition, originality, interpretation
of the theme, technical quality and
most importantly – how did an entry stand
out from the crowd.
And the winner is John Wheeler for his
entry, “Sixth Form Summer Holidays in
1952”. Peter Doust poncing about on the
bow while the others battled with the
controls. Not sure how we got our hands on
a big sailing boat” (pictured left). It clearly
shows Stationers having a great time on their
holidays and fits the theme well. The
photograph is not too busy, is well framed,
has the sail as the prominent feature, has an
interesting sky and has a reflection in the
water that adds to the interest of the
photograph.
The runner-up was from Les Humphreys,
“1959 at the Dolphin Holiday Camp in
Brixham”. The Boys in the Band: Mike
Smithwick, Alan Graver, John Willliams,
Cidge Cole and Richard Osborne” (pictured
left). Clearly Stationers having a great time
with innovative headware. Not sure where
these items had come from, but we hope that
they were clean!
Look out for the details of the next OSA
Competition in this edition of The Old
Stationer so that you can enter too.
Tony Moffat and Peter Thomas
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
The Old Stationer
Number 92 - january 2021
OLD STATIONERS’ ASSOCIATION
LIST OF COMMITTEE MEMBERS 2020/2021
President
Stephen P Collins
85 Love Lane, Pinner,
Middx. HA5 3EY
✆ 0208 868 7909
: spc@woodhaven.me.uk
Vice-President
Daniel Bone
56 Union Street, High Barnet,
EN5 4HZ ✆ 0208 441 1162
: dan.bone@civix.org.uk
Honorary Secretary & Past President
Peter R Thomas
107 Jackdaw Close, Stevenage,
Herts. SG2 9DB ✆ 01438 722870
: peterthomas561@outlook.com
Honorary Treasurer
Peter Winter
5 Oakways, Warrington, WA4 5HD
07795 450863
: prcwinter1@btinternet.com
Membership Secretary
Roger Engledow
118 Hertswood Court,
Hillside Gardens, Barnet, EN5 4AU
07817 111642
: osamembers@gmail.com
Honorary Editor
Tim Westbrook
7 Goodyers Avenue, Radlett,
Herts. WD7 8AY ✆ 0845 8724001
: tim@timwestbrook.co.uk
Website Off icer
Peter Gotham
Cambridge
: peter.gotham@gmail.com
Honorary Archivist
David D Turner
63 Brookmans Avenue, Brookmans
Park, Herts. AL9 7QG
✆ 01707 656414
: daviddanielturner@gmail.com
Event Managers
Roger Melling
43 Holyrood Road, New Barnet,
Herts. EN5 1DQ ✆ 020 8449 2283
: rmelling76@gmail.com
Peter A Sandell
11 Maplecroft Lane, Nazeing, Essex,
EN9 2NR ✆ 01992 892766
: peter.sandell@hotmail.co.uk
Honorary Auditors
Chris Langford, Dave Cox
Ordinary Members
Andreas H Christou
22 Woodgrange Avenue, Bush Hill
Park, Enfield EN1 1EW
07722 117481
: andreashchristou@yahoo.com
Peter Bothwick
52 Hither Green Lane, Abbey Park,
Redditch, Worcs. B98 9BW
✆ 01527 62059
: pedrotres@hotmail.co.uk
Tony C Hemmings
5 The Mount, Cheshunt,
Herts. EN7 6RF
01992 638535
: hemmingsac@hotmail.com
Clubs & Societies
Football Club
Liam Gallagher
38 Hadley Way, Winchmore Hill,
London N21 1AN
07793 220472
: liam@network-stratigraphic.co.uk
Golf Society
Roger Rufey
07780 450369
: rrufey@gmail.com
Apostles Club
Stuart H Behn
l67 Hempstead Road, Watford,
Herts. WD17 3HF
✆ 023 243546
: stuartbehn@hotmail.com
Luncheon Club
Roger Melling
Details as previous column
SC School Lodge no. 7460
Michael D Pinfield
63 Lynton Road, Harrow,
Middx. HA2 9NJ
✆ 020 8422 4699 07956 931174
: secretary7460ugle@gmail.com
Magazine
Publishing Adviser
Tim Westbrook
Details as above
Design & Production Manager
Ian Moore
Homecroft, Princes Gate,
Pembs. SA67 8TG
✆ 01834 831 272
: ian@outhaus.biz
Printed by
Stephens and George
Contents
Regular features
Editorial 4
Dates for the Diary 4
President's Address 5
Correspondence 11
Special features
The transformation of Stationers' Hall 10
OSA Library archive goes into storage 11
Staff remembered 16
Alan Dallman 19
Sydney Charles Nunn 20
Writing Music Paul Bateman 22
Life after Stationers Stephen Chaudoir 24
Conzooming beer Tony Moffat 25
Ferme Park Yards RegDavies 27
Cecil Newton War memories 28
A curious incident at Stationers' Park 29
Further recollections of the Rhone
Canoeing Trip in 1966 30
Homeward bound Richard Smith 31
English is a crazy language 31
Origins: Bolt Court Walk 32
By Rail Trail to the 2019 Cycling World
Championships in Harrogate 34
My brush with the law 37
Embarrassing moments 41
Coincidencies 44
Our trip to Paris D Maclean 45
Fire threat in California 47
My favourite walk 48
Me and my motors 50
Clubs & Societies
Golf Society 6
Reunions
Class of '54 7
Reunion Covid Risk Assessment 7
Reunions should be annual 8
Varia
Puzzle Corner 57
Membership Report 57
New members 57
OSA Photographic Competition 2 & 63
Obituaries
Peter Sargent 58
Robert Gingell 59
John Olorenshaw 59
David Waker 60
Hugh Alexander 60
Reg Wells 60
John Dickens 61
Supplying items for publication
Text: Please supply as Word or typed documents if
possible. Images: Supply as original images or hi-res
(300dpi) digital files in tiff, jpeg or eps format.
Post or email to the Honorary Editor, Tim
Westbrook. See Committee list for address details.
3
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
EDITORIAL
Welcome to the New Year and let’s hope that 2021 sees a
route back to normality for us all. The cancellation of most
OSA events and activities during the year gave rise to the
prospect of a very thin publication but my plea for members
to contribute content generated a tsunami of articles for issue
92. My heartfelt thanks to all of you who have made the
effort to sustain our magazine as a thriving forum for your
stories, recollections, anecdotes and correspondence. I am
particularly pleased that you have responded with articles on
my proposed themes of “embarrassing moments”, “my brush
with the law”, “what a coincidence” plus “me and my motors”.
Please feel free to extend your contributions in the next issue.
Regrettably, even though this is a bumper magazine I have
not been able to accommodate everything that has been
submitted so my apologies to those who have had articles
held over to July.
Members of the golf society were able to play 3 fixtures due
to the natural social distancing of the activity and I am pleased
to report that we trounced the Stationers’ Company team on
their home course at Abridge to secure the trophy for another
year. The committee has adapted to the necessity of virtual
meetings which have been conducted successfully on Zoom
and you can rest assured that the affairs of the Association are
being efficiently managed on your behalf. Sadly we have to
report that several members have died in recent months
including two past Presidents, John Dickens and Peter Sargent
and our subscribing membership has now dipped below 500.
The committee is reviewing its focus on securing new
members from school entry years that are currently underrepresented.
I am pleased to report that after years of discussion
with Haringey Council and delays due to lock down we now
have a commemorative plaque erected at Stationers Park on
the site of the school in Mayfield Road to inform visitors of the
historic link to the Stationers’ Company’s School. The front
cover photo taken in December shows our President Stephen
Collins and Past President Peter Thomas officially “unveiling”
the plaque. In addition to the Covid disruption we will not be
able to use the Hall in 2021 due to a major programme of
refurbishment and we are currently exploring alternative
venues. Members of the committee will be visiting Cutlers‘
Hall, very close to Ludgate Hill to evaluate its suitability for
our events and we will be communicating arrangements for our
AGM and Annual Dinner in the near future.
My best wishes to you all for a happy and healthy new year. I
am off now to book an end of lock down haircut!
Tim
DATES for the DIARY
AGM & ANNUAL DINNER
As mentioned in last Summer’s issue of the Magazine, we had
scheduled our 2021 AGM & Annual Dinner for the 26th March.
However, with Government restrictions on public gatherings still in
place it is becoming increasingly unlikely that we will be permitted to
hold our Annual Dinner on that date. We have therefore scheduled
Friday 21st May as an alternative date and opted for a lunchtime
event in accordance with your preferences indicated in the recent
Members’ Survey. With the closure of Stationers’ Hall for refurbishment
throughout 2021 we have been offered Cutlers’ Hall as an alternative
venue, just a few hundred yards from Stationers’ Hall in Warwick
Lane. If restrictions are still in force by next March and we have to
postpone this event until May, our AGM will be held electronically in
April.
We will send you an email in the New Year with details of the AGM
and Annual Lunch with a booking form. Therefore, please notify
Peter Sandell of any changes to your email address. In the meantime,
we will provide regular updates on the OSA website.
Online magazine archive
Every school and OSA magazine since 1884 is accessible in the
Library on the OSA web site. Have a look and see what was
happening in your school days. Password: 0335OS-wwwOSA
PRESIDENT’S DAY LUNCH and
CRICKET MATCH
Sunday 29th August 2021 - 12.30pm
CHRISTMAS LUNCH
Friday 10th December 2021 at Cutlers’ Hall
4
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
PRESIDENT’S ADDRESS
For obvious reasons, I have very little to report by way of
activities over the nine months that I have been President. The
only regular event to have taken place is the annual Golf Society
prize giving. We were also able at last to stage a series of walks
around the Bolt Court area, suitably socially distanced, as
reported elsewhere in this magazine. And, as reported in the
Editor’s introduction, we have at last been able to erect a plaque
on one of the remaining outer walls of the school commemorating
its existence on that site for 90 years. Thanks must go to Tim
Westbrook for his persistence with Haringey Council to achieve
that belated recognition.
Nonetheless, your Committee has been active via Zoom. Decisions
were inevitably taken to cancel President’s Day and the Christmas
lunch. Discussions took place about what to do with the OSA
archives while the Hall is undergoing refurbishment, and we are
grateful to Dr Nick Henwood for making free storage available;
record cards, which are the most frequently consulted part of the
archives, are now at the home of our Archivist, David Turner. We
also had preliminary discussions about how to use the very
generous bequest of £10,000 to the Association from the late Sir
John Sparrow. All Committee officers have now drawn up job
descriptions and ‘disaster recovery’ plans.
Membership has dipped slightly below 500, and we have been
considering how to launch a membership drive to attract in
particular the large number of Old Stationers in the 50-60 age
bracket who have not joined. Our website and Facebook page
will play key roles in this effort, and I urge existing members to
look at the website from time to time to keep abreast of what the
Association is doing. And of course we hope that, if and when
Covid restrictions are sufficiently eased, it will be possible to
revive the very successful series of year reunions that have
become so popular, from which new members can also be sought.
That is all I have to report; so I thought I would use the remainder
of my allotted space to reflect on my time at the School, and more
especially on one teacher. A few years ago, one of my predecessors,
in his Presidential remarks at the Annual Dinner, began by
exclaiming “Bonjour, mes élèves”, to which we all responded
“Bonjour Monsieur”. “Avez-vous faits vos devoirs pour
aujourd’hui?”, he continued; and following the inevitable “Non,
monsieur” came the unforgettable “Quel dommage!” Most, if not
all, of you will know that those were the words of Bernard Davis,
the French teacher known as ‘Beaky’ or, in my day, as ‘Beak’. I’m
pretty confident that virtually all members of the OSA would have
encountered him, because he began in the School in 1931, when
he was appointed to take charge of the then preparatory
department, and was there until near to the School’s demise (it
isn’t clear when he left, but Robert Baynes’s history of the School
reports that “he was one of the most bitterly angry with those who
encompassed the School’s closure”.)
Now, he was not my favourite teacher, and I only had lessons
from him for a year or two (though I did go on his 1964 visit to
Paris, my first trip abroad). But his personality made him
unforgettable; and in particular I have found that many of his
expressions have popped into my mind from time to time over
the fifty years since I left the School. I began to feel grown-up
when my feet touched the ground when I stood up. Although it’s
a long time since then, time flies: you can’t, they go too fast. When
I make a mistake, I feel like Sally slapdash. I try to avoid speaking
bilge, barge, balderdash, poppycock and piffle, but there are times
when I realise that I am suffering from inspissated crassitude.
Even though common sense is a very uncommon commodity, I’m
not as green as I’m cabbage-looking. If a boy was playing with his
ruler, he would be told that the last boy who did that died by
inches. And, bless my soul and liver, who can forget that a cedilla
is the submarine sign because it’s under the C?
And I will conclude with a joke he told that left many of us
scratching our heads until realisation dawned. A French student
who had studied English
obsessively came to London
convinced that he was totally
fluent in the language. On his
first day, he saw a billboard that
read: “My Fair Lady: pronounced
success”. He took a gun and shot
himself.
Finally, let me express the hope
that you are all faring well in this
very strange time, and that we
will be able to gather together
for the AGM and Annual
Dinner in the spring. It will not
be in Stationers’ Hall in any
event, because of the 18-month
refurbishment that commenced
at the beginning of November
(see separate article by Tony
Mash); we are in touch with the
Clerk of the Stationers’ Company
to identify an alternative venue.
Best wishes for the New Year.
Stephen Collins
1962-69
5
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
OSA GOLF SOCIETY
Sadly, probably the first, and with luck and a good vaccine, the
last year our Society has been blighted by a wretched virus called
COVID19 which decimated our programme and in the end
limited us to only three meetings.
We are fortunate that golf is a natural socially distancing activity
which meant the OSA ‘A’ team was able to scrape last year’s mud
off our boots, set the sat-nav for darkest Essex and do battle with
The Company for the prestigious silver trophy while adhering to
Covid protection measures. The event took place on July 9th at
the delightful and challenging Abridge Golf Course courtesy of
Mandy Baker, a regular player for the Company who works at
the club. The lush verdant fairways were a pleasure to play on and
the weather, being a mixture of sun and showers provided a
pleasant context for the day’s play.
It was close to 5pm when both teams returned to the club house
for the presentation which preceded dinner. Mike Kerlogue, the
Company’s team captain gathered the score cards and cloistered
himself in the corner to calculate the result while the rest of us
enjoyed a reviving pint or two and reminisced about the highs
and lows of our individual rounds.
Soon, Mike took the floor waving his computer generated spread
sheet and a respectful silence descended on the room. Then with
a poorly disguised grimace he announced that the Company had
amassed 193 points while the OSA had accumulated a stonking
258 representing a drubbing of unparalleled proportions. With an
ashen face and trembling hands Mike handed the trophy to a shell
shocked Roger Rufey who stoically avoided an excess of
triumphalism in his acceptance speech. Two of our players, Bruce
Kitchener and Peter Bennett scored an impressive 42 Stableford
points but Bruce won the best score prize on a count back. The
Roger shows off the trophy from our match against the Company
best front 9 prize went to Peter Russell, one of our newer recruits
as Peter Bennett had left for home and thankfully, Mike awarded
himself the best back 9 prize as a small consolation for his team’s
disappointing performance. Those that stayed for dinner enjoyed
a welcome roast beef meal and a drop of vino to sustain themselves
on the journey home. The two captains agreed we would try to
book Abridge for the return fixture next year as it was enjoyed by
winners and losers alike.
In conclusion, thanks to Roger Rufey, Mike Kerlogue and
Mandy Baker for arranging the event and a special mention to
Tony Mash who gallantly agreed to play for the Company while
promising not to score too many points!
Our next meeting was at Aldenham where we played for the
Pairs Cup. This was a really hot day and not everyone managed
to complete the course. However, the cup was won by Bruce
Mike Kerlogue best back 9 award
Peter Bennett wins The Covid Cup
The Players
Roger and Bruce with the pairs trophy
Kitchener & Roger Rufey with 45 points and with Peter Russell
& Mick Flinn runners up with 41 points. Highest individual
score on the day was Bruce Kitchener with 40 points with Tim
Westbrook in second place on 35 points.
Our final meeting at Mill Green Golf Club was due to be the
Three Ball Trophy, but given how few of us were able to play, we
agreed to play a singles Stableford competition for the COVID
Cup. This will hopefully be a one off event for all of us never to
be played for again. Peter Bennett was the winner with Peter
Russell the runner up. Tim Westbrook and Colin Watkins both
won prizes for nearest the pin.
This year there were fewer people available to play than since I took
over from Peter Bonner as your secretary. The reasons were simply
that the risk of playing was understandably too great for some
6
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
members; injury prevented others, and simply the fact that despite
our looks, many of us are not as young or as fit as we used to be.
We are lucky at the moment to have three players in our ranks
who are friends of mine and have played with us before. If they
had not been playing at Mill Green we would have had to cancel
with only 6 people available. My friends are happy to join our
ranks for next year and no doubt there will be more support from
our regulars, but we really do need to expand our numbers so that
we can at least make a minimum of 12 players available each time.
Please can we have more support from younger members and it
is worth remembering that we have a society handicap that is
adjusted to the scores at each meeting and has given the higher
handicap members an opportunity to challenge. We also use a
seeded method to arrive at both pairs and three ball competitions
so that everyone has a chance of being on a winning team.
Above all however we enjoy both the golf and the friendship
throughout the summer that all of us remember from years of
competitive sport in our youth.
We look forward to seeing you all again next year.
Roger Rufey + Tim Westbrook
REUNIONS
CLASS OF ’54 AT THE ARTILLERY ARMS
Our Class of ’54 were so pleased with The Artillery Arms as the
venue for our reunion last year that we re-booked it for this year’s
reunion. Then along came COVID-19 and the pub was closed
for many months during the lockdown and only reopened in
September. Because of the Government’s restriction on the
maximum number of people meeting to six, we needed a Risk
Assessment and this was provided by Roger Engledow (see
Appendix).
Notwithstanding our efforts to be safe, Fuller’s Brewery, who
own The Artillery Arms, still cancelled our booking because we
were expecting 12 Old Stationers’ to attend. However, Roger
Engledow and Bob Harris had a pint or two at The Artillery
Arms and sweet-talked Amelie, the Manager, into allowing us to
have our reunion of the 12 people who said that they would like
to attend the reunion. The conditions were: two tables of six each
to be socially distanced giving plenty of ventilation, table service
only, masks to be worn when moving about and no mingling or
man hugs (would we do that?). So we were back on.
In the end, only eight OSA members attended, on two tables of
four each. The “fear factor” so loved by the newspapers was not
going to stop us even though we are 77 years old – and counting.
We can do risk assessments with the best of them. There was a
problem naming the two tables. One table wanted to be Table 1
which left the other to be Table 2. They were having none of that
and announced that they were Table A. So be it (Photographs 1
and 2).
We had Carmella in the bar downstairs pulling the pints and
good table service from a nice French waitress (Lucie) who
hailed from La Rochelle. The tables had a list of the Fuller’s
beers on offer so we could order easily (Photograph 3). Not a bad
setup at all.
The food was great: fish and chips; burger and chips; lamb pie
and chips which was nice and spicy with a separate jug of gravy.
This, and Fuller’s beers, are why we go there.
This was the first trip into central London since March for all of
the group except Bob Harris and Roger Engledow. Everyone
reported that their travel on trains and tubes was uncrowded and
not at all concerning. Tony Moffat reported that his bus was “full”
(but each pair of seats with only one passenger allowed) and the
driver refused entry to further passengers. Andy Wick was still
driving each week into Smithfield Market at 1 am to collect meat
supplies for his local butcher. Most of us had cancelled planned
overseas holidays during the lockdown period: Alan Williams to
Florida, Bob Harris to Denmark and Sweden, and Tony Moffat
a cruise to the Black Sea. But Ron Johnson had managed a recent
holiday in Santorini – where he stayed in a (very posh) cave with
its own plunge pool. No quarantine on the way in or out.
There were various reports of encounters with COVID-19. Ron
Johnson was sure that he and his wife were sufferers in the early
days, though not tested and fortunately not seriously unwell.
Andy Wick’s wife also had all the symptoms, but again untested
and recovered. Tony Hemmings has had the flu jab so, if he feels
ill in the future, he can rule flu out and guess he has COVID-19.
Memorable events during lockdown included clearing his garage
(Roger Melling), watching his granddaughter score a hat-trick
(Tony Moffat), climbing the Old Man of Coniston (Roger
Engledow – that’s a mountain, not a local resident) and a three
generation swim to an island in Derwentwater (Bob Harris).
Roger Engledow’s daughter, Lucy, is buying a house with a cellar
and he asked us “If you had a cellar, what would you use it for?”
Some of the answers were: growing exotic mushrooms and
selling them (Roger Engledow), Tony Hemmings said that he
could not do that because his cellar would be small and therefore
he had “not much room” – groans all round, Tony Moffat would
use it as a wine cellar to which Roger Engledow said that it
would be “whining”. Enough of the puns!
We had the usual toast to absent friends and fortunately no news
of any losses during the last 12 months. Apologies for absence
were received from: Doug Fussell, Ray Humphreys, Geoff
Dawes, Tony McKeer, Richard Woods, Mike Hiron, Richard
Phillippo, Paul Edwards, Roy Stevenson, Graham Ling, Bob
Townsend and Martin Brown, We ended with quiet rendition of
the School song in accordance with COVID-19 guidelines.
Bob Harris and Tony Moffat
Appendix
REUNION COVID 19 RISK ASSESSMENT
The following risks have been identified in relation to a group of
6 getting together to enjoy a drink and a meal to celebrate our
joining the Stationers’ Company’s School in 1954.
Risks
That attendees catch the virus following their attendance.
Attendees pass the virus on to our fellow Old Stationers.
Likelihood
This is considered to be low for both risks.
Actions
The following actions will help to reduce both risks to low levels.
7
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
Bob Harris, Alan Williams, Andy Wick and Ron Johnson.
7 Bar staff will take orders for additional drinks so that it will
only be necessary to leave the room before departure in order
to go to the loo. Food, which has been pre-ordered, will also
be brought to us.
8 Any singing of the school song must be done very quietly, in
order to avoid projecting anything from the mouth further
than usual.
9 We should leave at a time that will enable us to travel home
before stations and trains become busy in the afternoon rush
hour.
10 No-one should turn up if they have any symptoms of the
virus, are self-isolating, or know that they have been in
contact with anyone who either has the virus or are selfisolating.
They must also inform the organiser if they develop
symptoms within 7 days after the event, so that all attendees
can be informed.
REUNIONS SHOULD BE ANNUAL
Tony Hemmings, Roger Engledow, Roger Melling and Tony Moffat.
List of Fuller’s beers available to order.
1 Attendees will travel mainly by train as the location is within
walking distance of Liverpool St and Moorgate National Rail
stations.
2 Travel will be out of rush hour times when trains are relatively
quiet.
3 All attendees will wear masks whilst travelling.
4 The organiser will register a mobile phone number so that
attendees can be contacted should an issue arise after we have
left the venue.
5 Attendees should use hand sanitiser when arriving and after
each visit to a loo.
6 After buying the first drink attendees should immediately go
upstairs to the allocated room. A seat should then be selected
and retained.
The first 1954 reunion was 18 months in the planning stage,
even with some help, and took place on the 50th anniversary, to
the day, of our arrival at the 4 playgrounds off of Denton Road.
Of the 100 who arrived in 1954 some 30 turned up at a buffet
lunch at a pub in Holborn. Everyone thought that it had been a
great success and should be repeated. Unfortunately, when I said
that someone else would need to organize it, apparently, they had
all turned their deaf aids down!
Anyway, 5 years later I agreed that, again with some help, we
should hold the first of our annual reunions. It is so much simpler
to hold it every year. Once you have a distribution list of interested
people you simply book the venue for a year hence when you leave
and then send a few emails. A “suitable” venue for us involved – a
convenient location, no deposit, a dedicated room, no pre-ordering
of food and some quality real ale. Not much to ask for really. The
search for such a venue was fun but did not take long. Unfortunately,
after a number of successful get-togethers at the Cheshire Cheese
in Holborn the pub was closed for building redevelopment. Some
may remember the descriptions of our search for another such
venue which ended with the next reunion being held at the
Artillery Arms, just off of the City Road; convenient for anyone
coming into either Moorgate or Liverpool St stations.
Then, along came 2020 and covid-19. When the national
lockdown was eased pubs were allowed to open. But the Artillery
Arms did not. Could we go somewhere else? What we probably
needed was an outdoor venue, e.g. a pub with a big garden, but
they are few and far between in a “convenient” location. The only
name that came up was Ally Pally but I did not know whether
they had opened as spectator events were still not allowed. After
some weeks all that the Artillery Arms website said was that it
would open “soon”. So I thought that I would also check the Ally
Pally website. They were planning to open on Thursday and
Friday evenings and at weekends. Not much good for a Tuesday
lunchtime reunion. However, emails cost nothing so I explained
to them what I was looking for. I was soon exchanging emails
with their catering manager regarding a private use of the Palm
Court on a Thursday lunchtime in September, on the basis that
they would be opening the outside area in the evening. They
usually serve a couple of real ales, one brewed locally. Their
intention was to have 4 street traders serving food some of which
would turn up early to serve us.
8
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
Wow, we might actually get a reunion in 2020! So I put the idea
to the 27 names on my distribution list. Some are not well
enough to make a trip to London regardless of covid-19, some
were definite “no” because of the virus, some were not yet sure but
10 were up for it. That seemed a good start but maybe not good
enough. I had email exchanges with some of those not sure. I
suggested that London Overground after a National Rail train
would avoid the use of buses or the tube, and that if they wanted
to delay the journey home we could visit Stationers Park. (This
had been an idea for the reunion by organizing a picnic there. I
did respond that the only way I could carry enough beer for a
reunion was in my stomach. Anyway there were too many other
potential issues with this suggestion.) However, this is very much
a personal decision that people had to make and it wasn’t for me
to put any sort of pressure on anyone.
I now suspected that we would be unlikely to get more than a
dozen so went back to the Ally Pally contact to ask what he
thought would be a minimum number. The answer was 16,
which is around what I had expected. So I had to politely thank
him for the interest he had shown but we would not be able to
get 16 there.
Shortly after this the Artillery Arms announced their re-opening
date. A quick visit by Bob Harris (he lives nearby) established that
yes we can continue with our booking. This really was becoming
a roller coaster ride as the rule of 6 was then introduced. Another
visit to the pub and discussion with Amelie (the French manager)
established that she would accept 2 bookings of tables of 6, so up
to 12 could attend. The only difference was her request that we
pre-order food from a limited menu – a small price to pay (no, not
the menu price). A further email to the distribution list received
12 positive replies. Perfect, you might think so all was put in place.
A reunion for 12 was less than usual but after all in 10 years’ time
we might be grateful for a dozen. Indeed who knows what the
situation might be next year.
However, the roller coaster continued. We received an email
from Fullers head office cancelling our booking. That was our
original around 20 booking and Amelie quickly confirmed that
she was happy with the arrangement. Infection rates then
started to escalate across the country, including London. I had
produced a covid-19 risk assessment for walking football to
meet a few words in a long document produced by the
Government when indoor team sports were banned. I adapted
this to a reunion for two groups of six. However, the rate of
infection increase in London was a worry and, over a couple of
days, four people now felt that the risks had gone beyond where
they were happy to travel into London. I couldn’t disagree as it
is very much a personal decision based on their own health and
family concerns.
So, as of today (Tuesday 29th September), Tony Moffat will be
informing Amelie of the food choices of eight would be
“reunionists”. Will Boris announce a local London lockdown in
time to thwart our plans? Will we end up with just one table for
six (so not breaking any regulations)? What other unforeseen
event could stop us?
If I’m lucky and still well enough to read it with you, we might
all be able to enjoy reading a report on the 1954 ANNUAL
REUNION next January. If no such report follows this article
you will have to think back a few months to work out why it did
not take place.
Roger Engledow
100 YEARS AGO…
It is 1921, King George V is on the throne, there is a coalition
government in power led by David Lloyd George, the Car Tax
Disc has just been introduced and Spurs beat Wolverhampton 1-0
in the FA Cup Final. Meanwhile, in the half-time changing room,
the team-talk to the Stationers’ First XI by the coach, moves to a
more sombre mood and a few home truths are firmly expressed.
This extract from the April 1921 issue of ‘The Stationers’ School
Magazine, provides an insight into the characters that played for
the School’s first team in the 1st Division Shield. It would appear
that the author of this review could be just as forthright as the
MOTD pundits we are all familiar with today. Although I am
sure, in his time, it would not have been delivered in the comfort
of a warm tv studio seated around a coffee table.
Peter Thomas
Eve Rose celebrates her 90th
birthday with Gordon
9
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
The transformation of Stationers’ Hall
2023 marks the 350th anniversary of the rebuilding of Stationers’
Hall after the Great Fire of London. Over this period, successive
generations of Stationers have enhanced and improved this
historic building, the third oldest Livery Hall in the City of
London; including re-facing the Hall in stone in 1800, completely
rebuilding the eastern wing and creating a new entrance in 1885
and reconstructing the Court Room in 1957 after war damage.
However, early in the 21st century, it became apparent that
further work needs to be done to make this grade 1 ancient
building fit for purpose in a very different world. As the focal
point for the UK Communications and Content industries, the
Hall needs to be more accessible, more flexible in its use and
more environmentally sustainable.
After extensive research, planning and negotiation, the Court of
the Stationers’ Company recently took an historic, once-in-ageneration,
decision to go ahead with a transformational project
at a total cost of £7.5 million. The Hall will therefore be closed
for redevelopment from November this year with an expected
completion date of Spring 2022. This will be the most important
refurbishment of Stationers’ Hall, since it was rebuilt after the
Great Fire of London and will ensure that a transformed
Stationers’ Hall will be open for business well before its 350th
anniversary and for many years thereafter.
For those who know the Hall layout well, a second entrance in
the garden will provide step-free access to a new reception and
cloakroom area and a lift that will stop at all the major function
rooms, revolutionising access in a building that contains some 16
different levels.
This second entrance will also allow two separate events to take
place in the Hall simultaneously, making its use much more
flexible for visitors, members and commercial clients. A
modernised kitchen will provide the capacity for multiple events
and events in the adjoining church.
The space above the Court Room, now vacant after the creation
of the state-of-the-archive storage and reading rooms in the
Tokefield Centre, will be available for use as three separate
meeting/break-out rooms or as one much larger function room.
All the major function rooms will be fitted with air cooling, a
pre-requisite in the hotter summers that we have been
experiencing recently; creating greater comfort for those
attending events and better protecting the fabric of the Hall and
its contents. At the same time, improved insulation and proper
temperature control will significantly reduce the Hall’s carbon
footprint.
The school archives held currently in the basement of the Hall
and the portraits of our past headmasters currently on display on
the library staircase will be moved to other premises while the
building work is proceeding. The early painting of the school
building currently in the lobby of the Hall will also be removed
for safe keeping. Space will be made available for the return of
the archives to the Hall in 2022 should the OSA so wish it, and
the paintings will find new homes elsewhere in the transformed
Hall complex.
Sadly, it will not be possible for the OSA to hold its AGM and
annual dinner in the Hall in 2021 and it would probably be
better to postpone the 2022 AGM and Dinner to April 2022. In
any event, the Stationers’ Company looks forward to welcoming
the OSA back to the Hall in 2023 to remind us all of the strong
bonds that exist between the Company and the Old Stationers’
Association.
Any members of the OSA who would like to make a donation
to the Stationers Hall Charity to help fund the Hall transformation
are invited to contact Pamela Butler at hallcharity@stationers.
org for further details.
William Alden
Tony Mash
10
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
OSA Library Archive goes into Storage
With the refurbishment of Stationers’ Hall, scheduled to begin
on 1st November, the builders had other ideas when we received
a call from the Hall in mid-October to inform us that work had
already begun in the basement and that our archive needed to be
removed immediately. Our archive had been stored for many
years in a walk-in cupboard in the porters’ rest room, accessed
from the Gents toilets! But now we were in a mad panic
organising its relocation to a temporary home for the next
sixteen months. We had already made preparations, having
received several offers of storage and transportation from our
members. OSA member, Nick Henwood (1964-‘71) kindly
offered the use of his storage facilities in Northampton where
our archive would be safely housed until work at the Hall was
completed. The next day, Tim Westbrook and I headed up to the
Hall in a hired van to load up the archive and take the long
journey to Northampton. The Association has amassed a unique
collection of archive, containing our library of School and OSA
magazines dating from 1884, historic silverware, donated School
photographs, commemorative booklets and SOBA and OSA
Committee minutes (some beautifully hand written in ledgers
dating from 1903). We hope that when our archive returns to the
Hall it will find a permanent home in the Tokefield Centre
where it can be viewed by visiting Old Stationers and prove to be
a useful resource for family researchers.
Peter Thomas 1967-‘73
From Tony Bathurst
Hullo Tim,
Thanks for your message; sorry for not
replying sooner. Yes, the Tin Pot School
was a funny old place in my time (c1943-
1948). I shall have to dig into my piles of
old magazines to find out what I said for
the OSA mag 80, but a few random
memories have been stirred up by your
comments!
In those days it was deemed necessary to
limit pupils' view of the outside world, so
the tall narrow sash windows, opened and
closed (occasionally) by ropes, made it
impossible to see much other than a strip
of sky. I remember gazing out at the
drifting clouds and wishing it were possible
CORRESPONDENCE
to see God - it would make understanding
so much easier! In much later years when
we moved to a mature house in Bridgwater,
I was inspired to take each such window
out in turn and strip it and its frame down
to bare wood, removing many layers of
paint which had hindered their opening
and closing, and repainting: a long job but
the reward was windows which could be
opened and closed with one finger. The
quality of the original woodwork was
excellent.
Unsurprisingly, your list of teachers was
entirely different from mine, although I
knew Miss Frowd because she was head
when some of my nephews and nieces
were there. I particularly disliked one aged
lady, no doubt filling in for wartime
shortages, who walked with a limp and
who delighted in reducing a pupil's selfesteem,
or so it seemed to me. She went
with us when we temporarily moved to
sheds in the playground of Crouch End
School (because a 'doodlebug' had landed
on the railway viaduct and caused damage
to the school roof ). At the other end of the
scale was Mrs Shaw, a much younger and
more energetic and sympathetic person for
whom one was pleased to do one's best.
Her husband accompanied a group of us to
a summer holiday somewhere in a southern
county - Peter Lack was in the group. Mr
Shaw took us around and showed us all
sorts of country things which townies like
me enjoyed greatly.
There were attempts to keep some of us
11
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 8 5
amused during the summer holidays by
organising games and parties. During one
such party, one of the lads threw a bread
roll!!!! A teacher whose name eludes me
was furious (she had a prominent mole on
her face...) and made the boy eat the roll.
That taught us, or me anyway, a lesson;
food was at a premium during the war.
In winter the one-third-of-a-pint milk
bottles were tested on arrival by birds - tits
probably - who pierced the bottle tops to
sample the cream (milk was not usually
homogenised in those days).
I was reminded that at Stationers' (1948-
1953) there were still members of staff
who had seen the School through the war
(ask my brother for a few reminiscences)
but, as with Mrs Shaw, there were one or
two younger ones and I particularly
remember John Becker and his friend
Geoffrey Barnard who between them did
a lot for school activities outside the
classroom, particularly in the field of
music, but it was John's language teaching
which I remember most and I have often
said that I would not be living in France
now without it. He instilled in me a love of
languages in general and in French in
particular, and although I have never had
to use German I feel I could, even now,
soon get a grip of it if I did.
I could probably go on, but other people's
memories are not always of interest to
others, so I will put my pen down, blot this
carefully and send it on to you (no 2 1/2d
stamp required!).
Best wishes
Tony
Dear Anthony,
I noticed in issue 80 of the OSA magazine, an
article you wrote about Tin Pot School which
I attended with my brother around 1955 –61.
Interestingly, I have been in email contact
with Alan Barnard as he has submitted an
article for the OSA magazine 91 and not only
did he attend Tin Pot but his father taught me
in class 4 which was in a separate building
half way up Alexandra Gardens.
Teachers were:
Class 1 Miss Elliott, Class 2 Miss Harris,
Class 3 Miss Thompson, Class 4 Mr Barnard,
Class 5, Mr Walters, Class 6 Miss Rogers.
Head teacher Miss Frowd.
The caretaker was a tiny man called Mr
Wing. Happy days!
Regards,
Tim Westbrook
A Break in Lockdown
Dear Tim,
How was 2020 for you? Does it feel like the
longest year ever? Can you remember what
life was like back in February? Ahh, those
carefree days of wondering how the new
prime minister would bring the country
together, if Liverpool could be caught in the
Premier League, finally exiting from the
EU and, on the news, something very
strange going on in China…
How our lives suddenly changed. Did you
suffer badly in lockdown from FOMO
(Fear of Missing Out) or get round to
doing things you’ve always wanted to?
Have you perfected Mandarin? Passed
Piano Level 8? Learnt all the words to the
national anthem? Finished War & Peace
or (re)started Ulysses? Or have you run out
of excuses and finally got round to those
niggling home repairs?
I, along with millions of others, embraced
the latter, and one sunny Sunday even
promised my wife that I would shave off
my lockdown beard that evening, after
completing a landscaping project in the
garden.
Alas, although DIY normally involves a visit
to B&Q for me it was a drive to A&E. (It
seems I can no longer rely on my gymnastic
tumbling skills when I fall from a ladder.)
On the plus side, I’ve never seen A&E so
empty; on the minus side, two breaks to my
collarbone were confirmed. Yes, it was a
rather extreme step to avoid shaving.
After the shock came six weeks of inactivity
(and I still didn’t start War and Peace), but
it was a happy ending when surgeons
decided that I am healing naturally hence
an operation is not required.
So, what a surprising 2020 it has been. Not
least of all that after all my years of
competitive and adrenaline sports I broke
a bone for the first time. And in case you’re
wondering, every doctor has professionally
resisted the urge to link my name with my
injury. Serious applause to the NHS.
The conclusion I’ve reached from reflecting
on a year of pandemic and lockdown: stay
calm, stay home, work on home (if you
wish), don’t go out (unless it’s B&Q), don’t
go to A&E, protect yourself (if you can)
and hope for a better 2021.
Very best wishes
Danny Bone
Hi Tim,
As Andrew Dunlop states the picture of
the victorious Meredith House Athletics
Team on page 27 of the last magazine is
one of a series. Phil Geering tells me that
his brother Mick has some of the others
which celebrate Meredith House winning
the Cock House Cup in 1961/1962 for the
first and, I believe, the only time. I am told
he has sent them to you.
Seated on Joe Symonds's left in the picture
is Mick Geering, our House Captain.
After all these years I can still recall my
first House Prayers in the School Dining
Room in early September 1961. Joe
Symonds spoke for a few minutes and
then handed over to Mick who gave what
was the first motivational speech I had
ever heard. He said that we would come
first in athletics, football and cricket and
we would pick up a satisfactory number of
points for our school work. What always
let us down was our disciplinary record.
Improve that and we would win the Cock
House Cup. We duly did and the trophy
was ours.
The only other motivational speech I ever
heard at school was when Gus Thomas
told us, at the beginning of the fourth-year,
how he would ensure that we all passed 'o'
level English. Certainly, in my case he
turned out to be correct.
Kind regards,
Derek Mitchell
Meredith House 1961/1968
Dear Tim
More on Andrew Dunlop’s 1962 Meredith
photo on p.27 of the last issue. The
grizzled veterans flanking Joe Symons are,
of course, Geraint Pritchard and Mike
Geering. In the back row, second left, is a
less celebrated member of our cohort,
David Ison, sprinter, erratic pace bowler,
12
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
and Liberal Party activist – a rarity at the
time. He had a career in advertising but
subsequently realised the secret ambition
of many an OS by running a pub in Wales.
He then moved to Gloucestershire, semiretired
and in indifferent health. We had
played together in the Highgate CC
drinking elevens of the 60s, alongside such
OS luminaries as Bob Beckley and Derek
Pyrke. I last saw him at a county match in
Cheltenham in 2005; Keith Knight and I
attended his funeral two years later. My
abiding memory is of keeping wicket –
warily – to his wayward thunderbolts.
Best wishes
Mike Heath
Dear Tim
I can give you some assistance with the
photo on p27 of Jo Symons and Meredith
House athletics team.
The person at the far left of the second
row up is my younger brother, Martin
Henfrey (1958-65) who was a keen athlete
and was indeed in Meredith, as was I.
Martin died in 2008. The person on Jo's
left is I believe one of the Geering brothers
(Mike?) who were both great athletes.
Hope this helps.
Tony Henfrey 1956-63
Dear Tim,
It may be heresy but I’m actually enjoying
the Lockdown. My daughter-in-law
Annie, a computer savvy American lass
who lives in Ayr, Scotland, found a
volunteer group operating near our home
in Ilford. Naturally Rita and I were
delighted, both of us being on the
vulnerable list. A quick phone call got us
registered with the group. Before the day
was out we had offers to do our shopping
from three generous souls. We decided to
ask Jayesh to do the weekend shop and
Shaz to do the midweek one. Not only are
they wonderfully helpful, but they turned
out to be very interesting characters in
their own right
Jayesh graduated from Oxford with a
mathematics degree specialising in
actuarial analysis. He works for Lloyds
evaluating risk, and costings for commercial
insurance contracts. One of his hobbies is
reading Sanskrit texts in the original
language. Shaz and his family have been in
Dubai for his work, but recently returned
to the UK. Unfortunately Shaz obtained
work with BA before the Lockdown, and
now faces the unwelcome prospect of
losing his job. Fingers crossed for him.
I am trying to work to a pattern. Breakfast,
then 15 /20 minutes Spanish with Rita.
Sort out my Emails, respond to Facebook
postings/messages, finally domestic chores.
At 12.30 we watch the second half of
Bargain Hunt. Rita and I are amazed at
how frequently the expert's? valuations are
way off the mark. Lunch and watch the
1.00pm news.
I usually spend the afternoon, until supper,
working on my article The Huguenot
Contribution to Early Modern Freemasonry.
I have written 6,600 words, but
have come to the very time consuming
part at the end of the paper. I have the
names of ninety Huguenot Freemasons,
members of four London Lodges. I am
endeavouring to tabulate the names, with a
brief summary of each one's profession
and their connection with one, or more, of
the twenty seven French churches in
London circa 1720-1730. The on-line
records and church registers of The
Huguenot Society are a great help.
The time taken to extract information
about any individual is very variable.
Sometimes I get a result very quickly (e.g.
Dr J T Desaguliers/Solomon's Temple) or
very slowly (e.g. Mr Dumoulin/Prince
Eugene Coffee House (Lodge)). The last
one cited took me almost four afternoons
to complete, with seventeen Dumoulins to
choose from, not helped by the fact that no
initial was given for the first name. That is
typical of the sometime casual record
keeping in the Grand Lodge Minutes of
the day. I have recently completed the last
entry, and now need to sit back and mull
over the wealth of information I have
extracted so that I can come to some
meaningful conclusions.
I have also submitted two articles for an
anthology being produced by the
Brentwood Writers’ Circle. Rita is busy
writing a children’s’ story. We have given
each of our volunteer shoppers a copy of
Rita’s “Gotcha Smile”, a delightful story
about little Clarine’s struggle to become
accepted at her new school. I have also
given each of them a copy of my story
“City Fox” which is intended for eight to
twelve year olds. It is available as a Kindle
version on Amazon.
I try to spend some time pottering in the
garden to take advantage of some of the
very sunny days that have occurred in
April and May.
An amusing incident happened a few
weeks ago. My neighbour’s son has two
rather large white rabbits. One of them
escaped into our garden by squeezing
13
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
through the narrow gap between a fencing
post and the back wall of our garden. I was
rather alarmed when I saw him nibbling
one of Rita’s prized Carnation plants. I
shooed him away, but he came back, and
started nibbling at the lawn. This wasn’t so
bad, but I could not trust him to feed solely
on our lawn. Fortunately a little black cat,
who visits our garden, started to stalk the
rabbit so he scuttled away, squeezing beside
the fencing post back to his home garden.
I cut some thorns, stuffing them into the
gap, and, as I thought, preventing the
rabbit from entering our garden again.
The next day I spoke to my neighbour,
asking if his son’s white rabbit had returned
home safely. Alas the rabbit was lost.
Nobody knows where he has gone. Has he
rejoined Alice in Wonderland, or ended up
as a tasty meal for a local fox?
Hoping you stay safe and well.
Best wishes,
Nigel Wade
Hi Tim
Hope you are keeping well and in business
during these difficult times
Just received another magnificent magazine
and have reprimanded myself as I was going
to submit a couple of photos which would
have got people racking the memory cells.
Only disappointment was the number of
Obits of people who I knew fairly well, Sir
John Sparrow, Harold Perry, Mike
Andrews and of course Bruce Donaldson
who I got to know through the Vets
football.
I also have a copy of the photo on page 27
and it was indeed Meredith House when I
believe we won all the Athletic shields but
not the Cock House cup unless that’s in
the front row. The Cock House cup took
into consideration I recall, work and
conduct which pulled us down rather.
I think I can add most of the names but
just a couple short if anyone is interested.
Back Row: Ray Faulkner; Ison ( I think)
Minch; me; Dave Rawnsley; Thomsitt;
Durrant (??).
Middle row: Henfrey (??) Geraint Pritchard;
Jo Symons; Mike Geering; Geoff Holmes;
Graham Eldridge.
Front Row: Davis; ??; ??.
You had Trotman who was probably one of
the front row?
I will look out a couple more photos with
"names of the Past"
Hope to see you but i have a shoulder
injury that is impeding (????) my golf so it
may be next season.
All the best
Chris Langford
Hi Tim
I have been speaking to Mike Geering
which prompted me to dig out the photos
I promised you.
1 Stationers School 1st team of 1962-63
which went through the year undefeated
Back Row; Bob Gray; Chris Langford; Colin
Munday; Colin Hall; Mark Thompson; Russ
Miller; Stan Holmes
Front Row: Barry Groves; Keith Mullender:
Peter Saunders; Bob Margree; George Allen.
2 OSFC 1st team - I believe first team to
be SAL Champions
Back Row: Bernie Kelly; Dave Cox; Chris
Langford; Mike Fletcher; Colin Munday;
Charlie Cruden.
Front Row: Ian Snelling; Keith Ranger;
Alan Rowe; Tony Taylor; "Windy" Griffiths.
Frank Abbot i believe also played but had
a broken arm/shoulder at the time of the
photo.
It was my 1st year playing Officially for
the old boys and what a great team I was
lucky to join. Bernie had been captain of
14
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
Barnet (Athenian League Amateur at the
time) when they played Southampton in
the FA cup, and 5 others had played Senior
amateur football but found the social side
of OSFC too strong a lure to miss out on.
Hope you can use this some time.
Chris Langford
Dear Tim,
In early July I sent you a photo of the
Struer party of Easter 1961, which I
discovered when pursuing the Meredith
House Athletics question. I promised to
send you some follow up narrative. I do so
now with many apologies for the delay but
we have had major medical distractions
which we are only now recovering from.
I have identified most of those present in
that photo (below) with one exception.
Front row between Barry Groves and Alfie
Elliott. Perhaps others could help. Also,
there are several OS presidents in this
group!
This group, comprising mainly the year of
1956, was the nucleus of the 1961/62 first
eleven which I was honoured and fortunate
to captain. I think that we only lost a
couple of games, but won the return
fixtures, as was the case in the two previous
years under Tony Taylor and Dave Cox.
Both of those were exceptional teams,
captained by exceptional sportsman in
every sense of the word.
However, only the 1962/3 team were truly
Struer Party
invincible, from recollection drawing their
first match but winning the remainder. A
different league in every sense of the word
to their namesakes some 40 years later.
They were the first and, I believe, only
school first eleven to go through the
season unbeaten.
Looking at this photo evokes so many
great memories of what were 4 halcyon
years for the school first eleven. Only a
handful of losses in approaching 100
games, culminating in that unbeaten
season. Quite something!
If you do reproduce the photo in the
magazine I hope that it gives as much
pleasure to others as it has to me and
brings back only happy memories to those
lucky enough to be directly involved.
If you need any more info please call me.
Keep up the good work.
All the best.
Mike Geering
Tim,
I often wonder (Gus Thomas might have
told me it should be, ‘I wonder often')
about this game. Isn't the internet
wonderful?
https://barnsburyboys.weebly.com/thegames-we-played.html
I also found this, specific to Wood Green
but nothing to do with the game we played:
http://www.streetgames.co.uk/games/ball/
jimmy-jimmy-knacker
Worth a mention in the mag?
Take care
Malcolm Wandrag
Dear Tim
Thanks for Issue 91 of the magazine. As I
was flicking through it, I was pleased to
come across the programme for Cakes and
Ale which brought back many happy
memories, not least of the ever-urbane
"Doc" O'Connell sitting at the piano and
playing the most amazing jazz arrangements.
I played the part of Lord Salisbury and
sang a very non-pc song encouraging
smoking. One equally non-pc verse went:
It comes here from America, that far and
distant place,
Out there the people chew it with
contortions of the face,
But of course the poor Americans are not a
civilised race!
Still smoking keeps a man at peace.
Then there was the charming first former
who sang
I'm a little girl from Mossywell Hill
That's the place where I was born.
At the other end of the social scale were the
two Villains:
We thought we were cornered last Monday
at three,
When we murdered a master most
treacherously,
But as nobody minded, they let us go free!
We're Villains, Villains, horrible, blood
thirsty Villains!
Some of the torturous lyrics were well up
to Noel Coward's standard.
For example:
The only way to work and be content is
to come and be a Stationer's apprentice.
Or the hard-up King James
I feel I'm only half a king
With only half a crown!
Happy Days! It would be interesting to
hear other people's memories of the
Centenary Year.
Brian Wilkinson
1952 - 1959
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T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
Staff remembered - “The Old and Bold” - John Leeming
I joined Stationers’ in 1964 at
the age of 22. I was one of four
new staff who joined that
autumn term. The others were
Charles Zarb (French), Charles
Yessayan (Mathematics) and a
Mr Williams (also French)
whose first name I forget. Tony
Hudson (History) may have
joined that year too. The only
one of those three I am still in
touch with, albeit irregularly, is
Charles Zarb, now in his nineties and enjoying good health in his
Belsize Park home. Charles Yessayan passed away some years
ago, also in his nineties at the time, but I have lost track of Mr
Williams. He would probably be in his eighties now.
I have been thinking about the many colleagues I have known
throughout my 20 years at the Mayfield Road establishment.
There were a great many ‘ships that passed in the night’ whom I
never got to know well, and whose later destinations I know not.
In 1964 many of the staff were, as Robert Baynes described
them, the ‘old and bold’ – men who were in or nearing their
sixties. It’s a testament to the magnetism of the School that many
of them continued beyond the minimum retirement age,
exemplified, of course by Herman ‘Joe’ Symons, who ruled the
roost until he was about 66.
The Language Department was in the charge of an elderly Frank
Dash with ‘Beaky’ Davis, also in his sixties, fronting French, and a
new kid on the block, Adrian Constable, leading the teaching of
German (and later Russian). Mr Betton, another sexagenarian,
taught Latin I had just missed Mathematician Laurie Buxton, but
Mr Bartlett (‘Peanut’) was a well-respected sixty-something
member of that department. Again, I was too late for the legend of
Beaky Davis
the Science Department, Mr Baxenden (‘Bax’), and Henry Grant
was by then filling the bill. He was not yet sixty, but shared a degree
of lethargy with some (but by no means all) of those who were. He
led physics, and Bill Rees, another sixty-something, led biology.
After Mr Rees’ retirement Godfrey Cremer filled the slot. I took
over chemistry from Dr Andrews, more by luck than judgement.
My memory of some first names is less than perfect. The older staff
were generally referred by their surnames only (usually preceded by
a ‘Mr’ when addressed by younger colleagues), and they did the
same to others (“Look here, Leeming old boy …”).
Staff of 1966
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WAC Rees officiating at Swimming gala
Young Stan Read was Head of Geography, with long-serving
near-retiree Leonard Topley his number two. Head of History
was a younger, but somewhat distant man whose name escapes
me for the moment. He was succeeded by Peter Filleuil and later
the eccentric Tony Hudson. Mr Filleuil became first Head of
Sixth Form on the adoption of the Pastoral system in 1967, and
later moved to his native Jersey to take up a headship (I think),
but died at a relatively young age. I filled his shoes as Head of
Sixth Form after Mr Filleuil left. John Morris was Head of
English, and John Thomas, another sixty-plusser who also
taught Latin, was a determined colleague of Mr Morris, and with
whom relations were not always smooth!
Also in that age bracket were John Lloyd, Head of Art and
Rodney Naylor, in charge of technical subjects, as was Harold
Parker (‘Park’), the charismatic lab technician, who had a stroke
and died in 1968. Music was in the hands of a younger man,
Norman Rimmer, who is still around in his eighties, and Sid
Holmes, also approaching retirement age, kept his gentle eye on
those who organised PE and games.
And there was Commander Cutler, of course, stalwart of the
school office, and who was in much the same sort of age-bracket.
Charlie Street, the Caretaker (who would be known as Site
John Leeming, Peter Glynn and Harold Parker
Manager today) was rather younger, but he sadly died in harness
in around 1981.
That period was more than half a century ago. All those ‘old and
bold’ have long since passed away, of course, and looking at a staff
photo taken in 1966, it is sad to see that a number of the younger
ones of that era have gone, too. My partner-in-chemistry-crime,
Peter Glynn, an Old Stationer himself, passed away at a very
young age. Keith Hewitt, who taught art, left us many years ago,
and Roy Court, Head of Maths, died fairly recently. Roy’s widow,
Ann, who also taught maths at Stationers’, is, to the best of my
knowledge, still in the Crouch End area. There were some older
staff who joined on comprehensivisation in 1967, such as Arthur
Rumney, Mr Salter and Gwyn Williams (“If anybody speaks, I’ll
take my belt off … ”) who are also no longer with us.
Other ‘original’ colleagues from that era whom I know about are
Adrian Constable, who moved to Hartlepool in 1983, leaving
behind his charming wife Thelma, who then joined her old flame
Mike Holley (physics) in the Watford area.
The school continued for nearly two more decades, and a great
many colleagues passed through during that period. I am in
touch with only a very few. Mike Fitch, another Old Stationer,
John Alley and Norman Rimmer
Mr Salter
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Micky Fitch has forgotten the formula for Sangria!
became Head of Chemistry after I moved up the ladder, and he
is living in retirement near Hertford. He is not in the best of
health, but remains active and gets around. Mary Pryor (art)
spends most of her time in Cambridgeshire, having moved on to
a deputy headship at the successor school, Langham, following
the demise of Stationers’.
Diane Dungate (music) moved to the Norfolk-Suffolk borders
several years ago, and, like the other survivors, is enjoying
retirement. Charles Zarb I’ve already mentioned, and I
occasionally see Francis Evans, another teacher of French, who
still lives quite near the old school. Brian Rainer (Technical and
maths) moved to the Langham, where he became a popular yearhead,
before moving to the south coast in 1994.
It’s sad that a few younger colleagues who joined later – the less
old but definitely bold – have passed on since leaving Stationers’.
Caroline Scott (geography) moved to Quintin Kynaston School
in Camden, then had a change of career, studying for a science
degree, then obtaining a doctorate following research into green
algae. Sadly, she died a couple of years ago. Derek Reid (German
and English) took over the English Department at Stationers’
after the retirement of John Morris, and moved to St Thomas
More School in Wood Green after leaving Stationers. Sadly, he
passed away a few years later, and I have just learned that John
Ollerenshaw (maths), who was at the school when I first joined,
died last October. He and Geoff Dolomore were walking
companions along with Mr Palfrey (before my time) and ran
school trips abroad. They both moved to Forest Hill School,
where I did my teaching practice before joining Stationers’.
Martin Roots (art) died a few years ago, and there were two other
maths teachers, both named Rao, neither of whom is still with us
as far as I know. Another popular staff-member was Ian Paterson
(drama and English), who was responsible for a number of
successful school dramatic productions in the 1970s and ’80s. He
continued his good work at the Langham, but was not in the best
of health. He took early retirement and died in the 1990s. Also
gone are Mr Barnetson (who I think lived to be nearly 100) and
Brian Burchell (Head of Lower School in the early ‘80s)
I used to meet with the late Geraint Pritchard quite often, and
was pleased to have been able to enjoy a last meal with him in
Harrogate just a few months before he died in 2018.
After the closure of the School, Robert Baynes held annual
gatherings of the new survivors at his home in Mill Hill – the
new ‘Old and Bold’ of the 1980s – until he himself passed away.
After a gap of some years without regular get-togethers, in 2019
Mary Pryor gathered together as many former Stationers’ staff as
she could muster, to hold a little celebration of the life of Geraint
Charlie Zaab and Geraint Pritchard
Pritchard. We met in a Crouch End pub, and I was very pleased
to catch up there with Clive Blenkinsop (English), Maggie
Butterfield (art), Vera Boles (library), Wilney Cochrane (English),
Nava Jahans (English and support), Jackie Maynard (clerical and
medical), Chris Murray (maths), Richard Quarshie (English),
and Ron Rook (PE).
Others who I know (or suspect) are still around include John
Bath (history), Peter Bennett (PE and games), Diane Dibsdall
(science technician), Geoff Dolomore (maths and physics), John
Eastman (English), Richard Farrow (geography), Maggi Fisher
(English), Maurice Freedman (chemistry), Mike Hanoman
(biology), Marsden Hubbard (PE and games), now back in
Wales, Peter Huke (English), Ian Keast (RE), Monica Lazaro
(art), Geoff Perry (chemistry), Mrs Mohammed (Maths), Mike
Smethers (economics) and Sean Wilkinson (geography and
Deputy Head) and Graham Woods (science technician).
Maurice Freedman moved to a school in East London where the
infamous Dame Shirley Porter was a governor, and the last I
heard he was running his own estate agency in Cornwall.
Stephen Moore-Bridger also taught chemistry at Stationers’ for
a short time, and I think he may be the same Stephen Moore-
Bridger who was a contestant in the BBC’s Brain of Britain
competition a few years ago (but didn’t win the title). I had lost
touch with John Bath (History), but he phoned me out of the
blue last November, and is still living in Muswell Hill. Peter
Huke took time away from teaching after leaving Stationers’ in
about 1980, travelling round the world overland in an adventure
that took him to New Zealand (“… my first encounter with
civilisation since leaving Calais.”). He later returned to teaching
in Britain.
Clive Belenkinsop and John Young in the Queens Crouch End.
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Jackie Maynard
I’m sure I have overlooked a number of people, to whom I
apologise, and there must be many I have no information about.
Maybe there are readers who can update the list and fill in some
gaps in my knowledge and memory.
And then there’s me. I have lived in Walthamstow since 1976
and keep busy, fit and active as I approach middle age (or so I like
to think). I moved on to the Langham School as a member of the
Senior Management Team after Stationers’, thence to a nonteaching
post that ended up as Computer Systems and Data
Manager at Nower Hill High School in Harrow, where Simon
Hensby was Head and Geraint Pritchard was Deputy. Simon’s
life, like Geraint’s, came to a sad and untimely end following the
onset cancer.
I retired completely in 2005. On learning of my impending
retirement, a colleague said, “Make sure to do everything you
want to before you retire, because you’ll be too busy afterwards.”
Such is indeed the case, and I suspect that my many retired
former colleagues find themselves enjoying happy, busy and
fulfilling retirements.
I occasionally have to remind myself that many of my former
students are also enjoying retirement. In my first year at
Stationers’ I taught the fourth, fifth and sixth forms only (years
10, 11, 12 and 13 in today’s terminology). I find it a sobering
thought that all those youngsters are now 70 or over. Life passes
by quickly. Enjoy it while you can.
John Leeming
Alan Dallman
I have only moved half a mile from where I was born in 1937,
My schooling was Rokesley, St. Mary's and nearly Tollington -
not quite enough marks to get into Stationers but my father put
this right after a visit to Hornsey Town Hall so I joined my
brother, David, who had been at Stationers for three years, I was
not so scholarly as David but did my best. Spent four years in the
company of Messrs. Thomas, Holmes, Barnard, Topley, Naylor
and Rees plus Mr. S.C.Nunn who all tried their best to educate
me. At the end of my fourth year term on he way home I
telephoned my father to tell him I had left school and had a job
with W.H.Smiths in Crouch End - my father was not pleased. I
spent two years with Smiths and then fate took a turn; my father
met the manager of a newsagent in Weston Park who had the
opportunity of buying the business but lacked the capital, so dad
took a chance to invest in his son. As National Service loomed it
was decided for me to be employed at the shop for the two years
at £8. a week. I spent my National Service in the Air Force and
after training was sent to Thorney Island which is near
Portsmouth. Once there I got the job of running the library in
the evenings and the bonus was no parades or guard duties and
home every weekend which I spent working in the shop. After
finishing National Service we formed a partnership for the
business which lasted 27 years and during that time we acquired
two more newsagents, a sweet shop, a sub Post Office and a toy
shop. My partner wanted to retire so we sold up in 1984. I then
set up a garden maintenance business which my daughter and
two grandsons now run. I was married in 1963 to my wife, Anne,
and we bought a house in Wood Vale with a three-quarter acre
garden(we are still there). Over the years we have opened our
garden for charities which was run by the National Gardens
Scheme; we opened for 34 years and had on average two or three
hundred visitors over the weekends; one year after publicity in
the Evening Standard we had nearly 800 people. I had joined the
London Gardens Society which ran a competition for the best
garden in Greater London. I entered the garden in the large
garden section for a few years and finally in 2010 won the cup.
We had a visit from HRH Prince Edward who is Patron of the
society and he was accompanied by various dignitaries - quite an
event. We are now in our later years, house too big and garden
too much. We did think of downsizing but as we overlook
playing fields and woods we feel we are already in the country,
not London, So looking back I feel privileged to have been a
student at Stationers. Lots of happy memories in my short stay.
My final comment is how on earth did Jeremy Corbyn and
Bernie Grant manage to close a wonderful fully equipped school
and demolish it, very sad.
Alan W. Dallman
Norton House 1949 - 1953
Winning Garden
Prince Edward congatulates Alan and his wife
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SIDNEY CHARLES NUNN 1896-1974
HEADMASTER 1936-1962 – By Clive Farmer
Sometime in 1952 or 1953 at
morning assembly the
headmaster, Sidney Charles
Nunn, known to the boys as
“Josh” ( Joshua son of Nun)
spoke of an incident during his
service in WW1. He told of
leading his men before dawn
along a communication trench
towards the front line. the sky
lit up by an artillery barrage.
His sergeant, a few paces
behind him, remarked “Proper
Brock’s Benefit tonight, sir”.
The Headmaster said he turned to respond to the sergeant, there
was a crump and a shower of earth and the sergeant was no more.
This anecdote stuck in my mind and after I retired, I resolved to
learn more about Sidney Nunn’s family background, his military
service, and his teaching career. Here is what I discovered.
Early life.
Sidney Charles Nunn was born in Ipswich in September 1896
and baptised early the following year. His parents were Frederick
Nunn, a police constable, and Emma nee Lucas. Their house still
exists in Pauline Street, a small, terraced property with the front
door opening directly on to the pavement. Sidney had two
siblings, Mabel, born in 1902 and Herbert born in 1909 (whom
I have not researched).
By 1911 the family fortunes were looking up. Frederick had been
promoted to police Inspector and the family had moved to
Hartley Street in Ipswich.
Sidney seems to have been a studious boy, attending The Ipswich
Secondary School for Boys in Ipswich in 1908 and being
appointed Head Boy in 1912. He was clearly attracted to
teaching as a career and was appointed an assistant teacher at the
same school for the period 1914-1915.
Military Service
His service started as a private soldier undergoing basic officer
training in the Inns of Court Officer Training Corps from
August to December 1915 and he received his commission as
2nd Lieutenant in December 1915. He joined the 2/12th
(County of London ) Battalion London Regiment, a Territorial
infantry battalion known as the Rangers. He was promoted to
Lieutenant on 01/07/1917 and then to Acting Captain , a rank
he relinquished in December 1918.
He spent the period from December 1915 until February 1917 in
training and helping to prepare the Battalion for war service. It
was often the case that new recruits, in addition to training,
needed much improvement in their physical fitness before they
were ready for the rigours of trench warfare on the Western Front.
In February 1917 Sidney left Southampton with the Battalion
bound for Le Havre. The War Diary noted that on the two
Troopships there were nearly 1,000 men, 35 officers, vehicles,
horses, and bicycles. He served with the same battalion
throughout his service, entirely on the Western Front, apart from
a couple of spells of leave. He was wounded twice, the second
time near Amiens in May 1918 during the last great Allied
offensive which led to the German surrender. There still exists a
poignant letter from Sidney to the parents of a soldier in his
company who was killed in action near Cambrai in what he
described as an unsuccessful attack in September 1918. Sidney
was demobbed in March 1919 and was awarded the British War
Medal and the Victory medal.
During the War, the Rangers suffered 1,200 men killed in action.
Their battle honours included Passchendaele, Cambrai, Amiens,
and the Hindenburg Line. As with many well-known battalions
they also had a steam Locomotive named after them.
Marriage
In late 1918 Sidney took leave to return to England and marry
Daisy Crane. The two had probably known one another for
many years as Daisy had lived in Pauline Street where Sidney
was born and she was also a school teacher. They had a daughter,
Joan, born in 1921.
Teaching Career
Sidney’s first teaching post was at the school he had attended as
a pupil, Ipswich Secondary School for Boys (also known as
Northgate Grammar). He was there during 1914-1915. His next
post was as assistant master at Cheadle Hulme secondary school,
Manchester in the early part of 1915 before starting his military
service.
After his demob and before resuming his teaching career Sidney
obtained a BA Hons then an MA studying at Downing College
Cambridge between 1919 and 1921. He then resumed his career
with a teaching post at his old school , The Municipal Secondary
School for Boys Ipswich between 1921 and 1923. He moved to
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at Hornsey but still suffered from occasional bombing in the area
and the absence of many of the teaching staff on military service.
In 1941 Sidney achieved the unusual distinction of having been
commissioned in two different arms of Service. The London
Gazette records his appointment as Acting Pilot Officer Training
Branch, Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve, this no doubt
connected with his command of the School Air Cadets. He was
later promoted to Flying Officer and resigned his commission on
his retirement in 1962.
The re-organisation of the Education
system and financial matters
the High School Dorking and remained there until 1926 , then
to the County School for Boys, Harrow until 1930.
In 1926 Sidney and colleagues took a large party of school cadets
on a trip to Belgium, visiting Brussels, Waterloo, Zeebrugge and
Ypres. This town had been reduced to rubble by 1918 but by
1925 had been entirely rebuilt using War Reparations funds
imposed on Germany by the Treaty of Versailles. We cannot
know what Sidney felt at returning to the area where he had
experienced so much, perhaps some lines from a poem by A P
Herbert might suggest his thoughts.
“We only walk with reverence this sullen mile of mud
The shell-holes hold our history and half of them our blood“
His career was clearly on an upward path, as he obtained the post
of Headmaster, The County School, Godalming in 1930 where
he remained until the high point of his career in 1936 when he
was appointed Headmaster at Stationers.
The War Years 1939-1945
The early years of Sidney’s time as Headmaster were very
eventful. The new school extension was completed by 1939 and
also the acquisition of the playing fields at Winchmore Hill
(which were given over to air raid shelters and trenches as soon
as war was declared). As Head no doubt Sidney would have been
heavily involved in these matters. The declaration of war in 1939
led to major changes in the School’s organisation. In 1939
Sidney, some of the teaching staff and around 300 boys boarded
the train for the Queen‘s School, Wisbech where they stayed
until 1942. Various reports suggest that the evacuation and
settlement of the boys in Wisbech (which also took in several
hundred other evacuees) was well planned and organised.
From 1942 until the end of the war the school was re-established
From 1944 onwards there were far-reaching changes to the
categorisation, management, and financing of the country’s
system of education. It seems that Sidney had to become part
politician, administrator, and negotiator rather than Headmaster.
The Stationers’ Company is said to have suffered some financial
losses because of enemy bombing in London causing property
damage and decisions to sell assets at the low end of a rising
property market. This meant that the Stationers’ Company could
no longer provide all the necessary financial support to the
school and it became state aided.
From 1945 until his retirement in 1962 Sidney provided his
Department Heads with a steadily increasing degree of authority
and encouraged flexibility in teaching methods, subjects and
approaches while maintaining high standards in educational
attainment.
Pupils regularly gained open awards to Oxford and Cambridge
and other universities and new subjects were introduced. The
gaining of pilot’s licences, trips to various countries in Europe
and Russia, involvement in archaeological digs, the teaching of
Russian and computer studies all confirm innovation and
modern thinking.
Sidney kept his hand in as a teacher when time permitted, taking
classes in religious education into the early 1950s.
Retirement and his final years.
Sidney retired as headmaster in 1962 after 26 years guiding the
school through some of the most turbulent times in its history.
Little information can be found about his activities post 1962
apart from a mention of cataloguing work at Stationers’ Hall and
involvement in careers advice.
He died in 1974 after a lifetime of service to his Country and to
education. His wife Daisy died ten years after Sidney in 1984.
Clive Farmer
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Writing music – Paul Bateman
In the last edition of the magazine (no.91) I wrote about my ‘life
in music’ and thought it might be good to follow up by honing
in on a few details about my various activities, starting with the
one that takes up most of my time, especially in our current
situation - writing.
I rarely compose these days as I find it almost impossible to come
up with anything that hasn’t already been written. So my creative
instincts are assuaged by almost unending arranging. The nonmusicians
amongst you may be wondering what this means –
what is an ‘arranger’; what is an ‘arrangement’? Well, think for a
moment about a well-known tune like ‘Happy Birthday to You‘
or ‘God Save The Queen’. Any musical accompaniment for these
tunes will sound fairly straightforward with the chords (the
harmony) and the rhythm (the ‘beat’ or pulse) being almost
always played exactly the same way. However, with a bit of
imagination these elements of music can be changed. Imagine,
for example, changing the rhythm of God Save the Queen by
playing a Waltz rhythm underneath, or maybe even a Tango!
Both are perfectly possible. Then imagine what a jazz musician
would be tempted to do with the chords of either of these –
changing them drastically to produce a completely different
sound world, atmosphere, ‘groove’ if you like. The possibilities of
playing around with any piece of music are endless; transforming
it into something completely different. Many will be conversant
with the world of ‘covers’ in popular music, where different artists
or record producers have played around with an original song
and produced their own ‘version’. This is much the same as I am
doing though most of my work has involved writing these ‘new
versions’ for symphony orchestras.
Although I composed and arranged a few things in my 20’s and
early 30’s I didn’t really start arranging full time until my late 30’s
– 1989 to be precise. I recounted the story in my earlier article
but just to recap, I was asked to arrange ‘Luck Be A Lady’ (from
the musical ‘Guys and Dolls’) for a singer’s album, to be recorded
by the Philharmonia Orchestra. Those of you who have attended
West End musicals may have noticed that the number of players
in a theatre ‘orchestra pit’ is considerably less than in a symphony
orchestra and their make-up is very different too – probably very
few string players where a symphony orchestra will have 40 or so,
probably more ‘rhythm section’ instruments (keyboards, drum kit,
guitar, bass guitar) and woodwind players who have to play
multiple instruments (flute/clarinet/saxophone) called ‘doubling’
and this rarely happens in symphony orchestras. So, if your brief
is to have a symphony orchestra play what is usually played in a
theatre pit it has to be drastically re-written to match the very
different line up of players. Up to that point I had written very
little for symphony orchestra and frankly had a lot to learn about
the craft so went out and bought various books on the subject of
orchestration (how to write for orchestra) and taught myself.
A few things helped a lot – the fact that as a student I also
studied the cello meant that I already had a good idea of what
worked when writing for stringed instruments. My study of
singing also helped in my understanding of the necessity for
woodwind and brass players to take a breath! (There are plenty
of arrangers who forget this!). Finally the study of scores by the
great composers which had been going on since ‘O level music’
at Stationers’ was an underlying experience that also helped my
understanding of which instruments to combine with which, in
order to make things work well for a big orchestra.
Put simply, imagine a high note played by a trumpet, which can be
very loud, played at the same time as a low note for the flute, which
can’t be anywhere near as loud. It’s therefore a complete waste of
time writing the flute note down low as it just won’t be heard
against the trumpet. There are hundreds of similar comparisons as
each instrument has its own characteristics and colours and you
have to know not only which can be successfully combined but also
how the different sections of the orchestra (woodwind, brass,
strings and percussion) can combine as groups. It’s a bit like an
artist who has a massive palate of colours and a huge variety of
styles at his or her disposal and where the possible combinations
are literally endless, which is where one’s artistic judgement comes
in, moulding all these elements into a satisfying whole.
That one arrangement in 1989 was so successful that it led to
thirty years of non-stop arranging. I only once had to go to an
‘audition’ for this kind of work. At that time Reader’s Digest
Records recorded a huge amount of popular classics and light
music and the London recording sessions were organised by the
great American arranger and conductor, Charles ‘Chuck’
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Gerhardt (sadly no longer with us). I had to go to his house in
Sussex with my score of ‘Luck Be a Lady’ and the CD of its
recording as he was looking for new arrangers and I had been
recommended by the recording engineer of this particular
recording. Chuck listened whilst following my score, looking
very gruff and soon barked at me “this reminds me of somebody”
(long pause) “Me!” No surprise - I got the job – over thirty pieces
to arrange and conduct.
And so it has gone on, since then writing for the albums and
concerts of so many wonderful artists including Sarah Brightman
(several albums), Lesley Garrett (albums and TV series’) The
Three Tenors, José Carreras, Joseph Calleja, Piotr Beczala, Sir
Paul McCartney, Sir Bryn Terfel,. Blake, Charlotte Church,
Jason Howard, Tito Beltran and many more.
Silva Screen Records also commissioned many works from me
including ‘Christmas Choral Classics’, an album for choir and
symphony orchestra. It may not be well known that albums of
Christmas music are always recorded in the summer! In this
particular instance, as this was for large forces I had to commence
the arrangements in March, so was completely immersed in
Christmas all over Easter and up to the end of June, finally
recording it all in Prague during a very hot August. It made me
realise what Christmas is like in Australia! In writing that album
I also discovered that, to my surprise, the big symphony
orchestras have found it difficult to find arrangements of carols
to suit their line up. The arrangements have therefore had a good
‘after-life’, being hired out for many, many concerts, particularly
those promoted by Raymond Gubbay Ltd.
Currently my best customer is British violinist Daniel Hope.
Though he lives in Berlin he is music director of the Zurich
Chamber Orchestra and the New Century Chamber Orchestra
of San Francisco. These orchestras are mostly just strings (with
him playing solo violin) and he is endlessly requesting new
arrangements from me.
In 2018 he commissioned a suite of songs from West Side Story
for solo violin and strings. This was an interesting commission as
the music is still in copyright which means that permission to
even start has to be obtained from the publishers. In this case we
had to deal with the Bernstein Estate who are well-known for
being very challenging. Having finally been granted permission to
start I then had to submit my score to their ‘house’ arranger for
approval. When that hurdle was overcome I had to submit the
score and all the orchestral parts (for all the different instruments)
to their proof-reader for his minute scrutiny within their own
house style. The whole process took the best part of a year and I’m
pleased to say that I attended one of the first performances in
Essen, Germany, last year. Next year it will be recorded by
Deutsche Grammophon and published by Boosey and Hawkes.
Finally a word about the tools required for all this. Some of you
may remember a thing called a pencil, often used alongside a
rubber and a ruler. This was how I started out with those
Reader’s Digest arrangements in 1990. Only a few years later
software started to appear that did the job rather impressively
and I took the plunge. Up to 1996 I didn’t even own a computer
so when I decided to buy what was then called ‘Sibelius 7’ it
meant buying not only the software but also a computer and
printer. In those days Sibelius 7 was written only for an Acorn
computer so that’s what we had to buy. A few years later it was
re-written for PC and Mac. The program was written by twin
brothers Ben and Jonathan Finn (hence the Sibelius name, being
a Finnish composer) who were simultaneously studying music at
Oxford and Cambridge Universities and who both also had great
interest in computer programming. They saw a huge opportunity
in the almost non-existent market for music writing software
(though the program ‘Finale’ was already emerging in the US)
that was user friendly for musicians with little experience of
software. It was a great success and many of us arrangers took to
it as it saved a lot of writing time and produced parts to give to
the orchestral players that looked like published music. I worked
with the Sibelius programme non-stop for twenty years but the
company was bought by American company Avid in 2012 who
decided to sack the entire software developing team (in Finsbury
Park!!) and hire cheaper chaps in the Ukraine. This prompted
Yamaha, who own German company Steinberg, (who make
recording software) to re-hire this British team and give them 4
years to write a brand new program to compete with Sibelius and
Finale. This they have done and it’s now been out for four years
and many former users of the above two programs have migrated
to it. It’s called Dorico (with the accent on the first syllable) and
is named after a 16th century Italian music engraver called
Valerio Dorico who printed first editions of the music of
Palestrina in the early 1500’s – a bit of printing history that
should appeal to us Stationers! The new program has been able
to take advantage of the software developments that have
appeared in the first decade of this century, the earlier two having
been originally written in the 90’s, so there are improvements in
every aspect. It was however a steep learning curve but well
worth it in the end.
I hope that’s shed some light on a generally unseen aspect of the
music business. André Previn described arrangers as the ‘unsung
heroes of music’ (thanks André). Next time I’ll try to explain
what on earth a conductor is doing. Better look it up.
Stay well dear friends. Warmest wishes to all.
Paul Bateman
23
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
Life After Stationers’ - Stephen Chaudoir
I was appointed head teacher of Whitstone, a small Somerset
Community Comprehensive Secondary School, located in
Shepton Mallet, to commence in September 1993.
I retired early, aged 55, therefore, I was a head for 13 years and as
the school grew in popularity significant developments resulted.
It certainly was the best job I ever had; the most challenging but
also the most rewarding.
It is relevant to include some background to my head teacher
appointment by the governing body, in May 1993.
I grew up in an educational home background whilst at
secondary school. Rather unusually, as my widowed mother
married my Stationers’ first year form tutor: Rowland Betton
(Head of Classics); which meant I left Stationers’ after only four
terms in January 1964, to attend East Barnet Grammar School.
The start of many competitive games between the two sides! I
always seemed to bowl faster and straighter against the old
enemy!! It would be inaccurate to say my home life was a
forerunner to my career, in fact Rowland tried to put me off,
which only made me determined to succeed, but not in classics.
I remember the first day at Stationers’, as one boy was so nervous
he was sick in the main hall. Needless to say we all felt sorry for
him, me less so as I was allocated the seat in front of him as my
Form One desk!!
I had attended Highgate Primary School transferring to
Stationers’ with John Lambert, Roger Cavanagh and Ian Gillies.
The process of transfer was hardly detailed. Mum went to a
parents’ meeting in the previous July. Apart from one banda sheet
of paper listing uniform and PE kit required all she remembered
was that the building was old, on a slope, with small windows
and a long walk from the bus stop in Hornsey! Not that I was
aware at the time, but all these experiences tended to shape
aspects of such systems when running my own school some
thirty years later.
At 18, I applied to teachers’ training college: Redland in Bristol,
(now the University of the West of England,) to study Geography
and Physical Education after passing Geography, History and
Economics at advanced level.
We spent some time in schools during those initial three years
before I gained a B.Ed honours degree in Geography from the
University of Bristol in July 1973, which was also the same
month Jenny and I were married. Rowland died in the January of
that year.
One of my fourth year Geography students on teaching practice at
a large Bristol Secondary school was Gareth Chilcott a past
England prop forward. A chatty character even then. He was quite
sympathetic, however, when I turned up wearing sun glasses on a
wet November Monday morning having fractured my skull playing
hockey the previous day with a wonderful black eye as a result!
So September 1973 saw my career commence in an 11 to 18, five
form entry Hertfordshire Comprehensive School as a Geography
and PE teacher. Within two years I was very lucky to be appointed
head of department. Four years later I was in the same position in
a brand new Norfolk High School, in the days before the national
curriculum so it was possible to set your own geography curriculum.
The department introduced a 16 plus system that was a forerunner
to GCSE. During those four years in Norfolk I studied for a part
time master’s degree in Education at the Centre for Applied
Hornsey U/11 High jump champion, 1962
Research in Education (CARE) at UEA. Learning never stopped,
and often seemed to be curriculum orientated.
From Norfolk I gained curriculum related positions in two
Somerset schools. After ten years, I was appointed head teacher,
having been first reserve on the short list. The chair of governors
had spotted my competitive spirit and deliberately shared that
fact directly with me! My ten years in the two Somerset schools
prepared me for the best job ever. During that time in addition,
I also helped organise a national education development (OCEA)
as well as introduced records of achievement in Somerset
secondary schools.
As a head you are faced with various challenges daily. Your
reaction may depend on experience but very often there is no
time to discuss, only time to act, often in public.
When I had to talk to the whole school in the morning assembly
when one of our older students had died the night before, I don’t
know how much my own family circumstances influenced what I
said. In discussion with the head of year subsequently it was
difficult to remember what was actually said but the appropriate
atmosphere was very relevant for that day and we were able to
work with EPs (Educational Physiologists) very successfully with
First day of headship, not much grey hair at 42.
24
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
Postretirement aged 55,
changed hair colour!
achievement for a small Somerset comprehensive.
bereaved students. It was
the quietest day in school I
had ever known.
It is also appropriate to
record some of the school’s
record of achievement.
In 1997, one of our year11
students gained twelve A*
grades at GCSE level,
making him the top student
in the country, (front page
of The Times) some
Interestingly, our Primary liaison work was much admired, and
significant involvement by the head teacher was recognised as a
major contributory factor in increasing our intake numbers.
In 1999, the school was recognised in the annual national Ofsted
report as one of a number of improving schools. A little vague, so I
telephoned the inspection team to discover whether there were
other successful schools in the South West. The response was a little
hesitant, then he enquired if Shropshire was in the South West? It
turned out we were the only school in the South West to gain that
accolade. School improvement is, of course, the head’s major
purpose. We were fortunate to gain more money for Information
Communications Technology (ICT) and Science teaching through
Technology College status; the team approach worked. New
forceful staff, and revitalised colleagues, who were invigorated under
the new management style, made all the difference.
Therefore, I do feel my sporting background especially as a team
member was significant in my relationships with colleagues and
students; not many secondary head teachers run the basketball
team and umpire cricket matches.
One exchange of words was to prove interesting at an after
school basketball training session. All the students were aware I
am a type one diabetic as I took assemblies for our health week,
so when I suggested to the basketball captain he should “keep an
eye on me” as 4.00pm, was a difficult time to control blood sugar
levels. He needed to check I was not talking rubbish at the
coaching session. “How will I spot the difference?” he said!
I chose to retire when I could still innovate, juggle plates, play
league cricket, appoint competent staff, raise standards, make
kids believe they could achieve, and manage a budget. Type one
diabetes has its own challenges, and so I did not want to go on
to the bitter end when my performance could have deteriorated,
so early retirement on an actuarially reduced pension was a
sensible course of action. Also, I had experienced three Ofsted
inspections in those thirteen years, four would have been greedy!
Headship was my life for thirteen years, I have not returned to
school since, and the governors are in the process of appointing
the third head to follow me in the ten years since I left.
Let’s hope the first reserve wins the day!!
After retirement, for five years, I worked in the Devon and North
Somerset Advisory Services as a part time School Improvement
Partner (SIP) as well as a tutor/lecturer on a Foundation degree
sourced by Worcester University in Somerset.
I finally fully retired to cricket aged 65. Still playing Somerset
League cricket for Castle Cary second team and Somerset
Seniors.
My first game for the Somerset over 60s team was against
Cornwall, LBW for 99 was a good start, bettered by 117 not out
the following year. I have now “matured” to an over 70s team
member.
Stephen Chaudoir
CONZOOMING BEER
Previous editions of The Old Stationer have described how four
of us (Roger Engledow, Bob Harris, Roger Melling and I)
searched for a venue for the reunion of the Stationers’ Class of ’54.
We later expanded this to include visits to historic and notable
pubs. The idea was to drink beer and enjoy each other’s company
in interesting pubs. Our next expedition was to have been pubs
around Muswell Hill, but this was aborted when COVID-19
came to town. However, being the inventive Old Stationers’ that
we are, we decided to continue meeting virtually using the video
conferencing facility Zoom and drinking beers at the same time
– who says blokes can’t do more than one thing at a time. This
was christened as “Conzooming Beer” by Roger Engledow.
Bob Harris agreed to organize the Zooming and suggested that
the four of us get the same beers to conzoom at the virtual
meeting and compare tastes. These beers were from Greene
King: Old Golden Hen (light in colour, hoppy taste, 4.1% ABV),
Old Hoppy Hen (a pale beer full of hoppy taste, 4.2%) and Old
Speckled Hen (darker, malty taste, 5%). This last beer was first
brewed to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the MG car
factory in Abingdon, Oxfordshire. The factory had an old run
around car, often parked outside the paint shop, which was
spattered in paint known as the “Owld Speckl’d Un” which gave
its name to the beer “Old Speckled Hen”. Apparently, there is a
resemblance between MG’s logo and the Old Speckled Hen
label. Not a lot of people know that!
So, on 3rd July we cozoomed our beers, each with different styles
of glasses. The conversation naturally revolved around how we
were all coping with the lockdown due to COVID-19 whilst
looking forward to the pubs re-opening on 4th July. Perhaps our
idea for our next live meeting “in the flesh” in pubs around Muswell
Hill could be back on. We also discussed holding the OSA Class
of ’54 reunion at Ally Pally if we could not go to The Artillery
Arms. Outdoor venues had the advantage of not being numbers
limited, but clearly would be dependent on the weather.
Our next conzooming was on 7th August, with Roger Engledow’s
choice of beers from Oakham Ales based in Peterborough: JHB
( John Hudson Bitter, pale gold, 4.2%), Inferno (another gold
coloured beer made from 5 different hops, 4.4%), Citra (hoppy
with a citrus taste – no surprise there, 4.6%) and Bishops
Farewell (Roger Engledow’s favourite, smooth rich and fruity,
5%). This last beer was brewed in 1996 in honour of William
John Westwood on his retirement as Bishop of Peterborough.
Bishops Farewell has the distinction that it pioneered the use of
the USA “Cascade” hop in the UK - the variety that launched
the craft beer revolution.
My choice of beers for our meeting on 4th September were those
from the Adnams’ brewery located in Southwold, Suffolk. The
brewery is very close to the picturesque Southwold Lighthouse
which gives its name to the first beer that we tasted: Lighthouse,
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T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
a classic amber beer and a good one with which to start our
conzooming at 3.4%.
Whilst drinking the amber nectar, the picture of a lighthouse on
the label reminded Bob Harris of the time in the 1980s that he
was consulting for the three General Lighthouse Authorities:
Trinity House responsible for England & Wales, the Channel
Islands and Gibraltar; Northern Lighthouse Board responsible
for Scotland and the Isle of Man; and the Commissioners of
Irish Lights responsible for the whole of Ireland. These days the
lighthouses are automatic, but previously they were manned by
lighthouse keepers. Their maintenance duties involved: cleaning
the lenses and windows, winding the clockwork mechanisms,
maintaining the fuel supply, operating the fog signal when
required and trimming the wick. For this last reason they were
often known as “wickies”. Bob was told by one “wickie”, that
there was an allowance for “obnoxious duties” one of which was
for shovelling s**t into a storage pit in the lighthouse to get it out
of their small toilets. There was also a larger allowance for “very
obnoxious duties” for emptying that pit into a tender when it
came to restock the lighthouse and take away any undesirable
material. It’s surprising what you learn when conzooming beer.
That part of the Suffolk coast has been eroded by the sea for
centuries. Nine miles south of Southwold is the lost town of
Dunwich. Dating back to Anglo-Saxon times, it was the capital
of the Kingdom of the East Angles. It is known as the “Lost City
of England” and “Britain’s Atlantis”, as the harbour and most of
the town have been lost to coastal erosion and great storms. Most
of the buildings present in the 13th Century are now beneath the
waves including eight churches. It is said that, on stormy nights,
church bells can be heard from beneath the waves. Only a few
buildings are left in the town now and they may disappear by the
end of the century.
Our second pint was Ghost Ship which takes its inspiration from
Adnams’ 600-year-old haunted pub “The Bell” and tales of old
smuggling ships along the Suffolk coast. It is a ghostly coloured
pale ale, has a much stronger taste of hops and is stronger than
Lighthouse at 4.5%. If you fancy buying a bottle in your local
supermarket, watch out you don’t buy the 0.5% version!
Bob wasn’t finished with stories about faeces and told us about a
recent tennis match against a team which included two consultants
from the local hospital. Having a pint after the game, it transpired
that one of them was a gastroenterologist and a leading expert for
faecal transplants. The hospital receives faeces from a donor,
centrifuges it to get the good bacteria and he injects it into the
stomach of a person with gastric problems so that they have good
bacteria in their gut instead of horrible ones. Apparently it is one
of the most successful treatments for patients suffering from
antibiotic resistant infections. Very interesting!
Adnams like to name beers after places or events and our next
beer was no exception. It was Broadside (a dark ruby red beer, but
a bit powerful at 6.3%) brewed to commemorate the Battle of
Sole Bay. It was on 28th May 1672 that the English and Dutch
fleets fought at Southwold Bay (called Sole Bay). The home fleet
was supposed to be an Anglo-French fleet commanded jointly by
James, Duke of York (later to become James II) and the Earl of
Sandwich. However, the French never turned up to fight and left
it to the English to beat off the Dutch on our own.
Bob told us another story about Ghyll Scrambling that he did;
organised by Keswick Extreme Outdoor Adventure Activities on
the shores of Derwentwater. Ghyll Scrambling, also known as
Gorge Walking and Canyoning, involved going on a journey
down a steep and rocky mountain river. Safety equipment was
mandatory and included: wet suit, trainers and helmet. After
marching up the valley, the group dived into a pool of water and
then made their way down stream; walking, swimming, sliding,
diving and jumping up to five feet along the stream. The group
that Bob was in comprised 15 people and two dogs. The collie
dog rounded people up so that there were no stragglers, whilst
the other one barked at you until you jumped when told. Bob
counted them all out and counted them all back with no injuries.
An interesting way to spend a couple of hours.
Our last discussion, as we finished the beers, centred around the
choice of venue for the OSA Class of ’54 reunion about which
you can read in this issue of The Old Stationer.
Tony Moffat
A screen shot of our Zoom meeting. From top left clockwise: Bob Harris, Tony Moffat, Roger Melling and Roger Engledow.
26
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
Ferme Park Yards
One of my memories of the school was the occasional sound of
wagons crashing at the nearby marshalling yard. Another was
looking out over the myriad railway sidings from the Hog’s Back
path. What was the history of the yards and how did they function?
Essentially coal explains both their growth and their demise.
The Great Northern Railway (GNR) was promoted in the 1840s
in part to carry coal from Yorkshire to London. By the 1870s the
existing freight yards between Kings Cross and Finsbury Park
could not cope with the traffic and to expand them was
unaffordable scope. So in 1882 the GNR purchased land on either
side of its main line between Finsbury Park and Hornsey for new
freight facilities. Since major earthworks were necessary to
produce an area of flat land, the yards did not open until 1888. In
the meantime a new station was opened at Harringay in 1885 at
their south end. So when the new school building opened in 1894,
the yards were already established and there was a station nearby.
Between 1891 and 1894 expanding traffic required the building
of further sidings. The whole complex then became known to
railwaymen as Ferme Park Yards, extending on either side of the
main line between Harringay and Hornsey stations. They were
connected by a flyover, to avoid crossing the main line on the
level. The yards to the east of the main line were known as the
‘Up Yards’ and those to the west as the ‘Down Yards’. (In railway
terminology ‘Up’ is the direction towards London and ‘Down’
away from it.) On the up side, close to Hornsey station, a
locomotive depot was opened in 1899, mainly to house tank
locomotives working in the adjacent yards. The final expansion
came in the 1930s with more sidings and a wagon repair depot
at the south end of the Down Yard, below the Hog’s Back path
By 1900 the Up Yard sorted freight arriving from the North.
Here wagons were separated and marshalled into trains to
various depots in the London area. Some went to the GNR’s
depots at King’s Cross, Farringdon Street, Blackwall and Poplar
Docks. Others travelled south of the Thames to such depots as
Hither Green, Bricklayers’ Arms, Herne Hill and Brentford.
Coal dominated the traffic; a single week in the 1900s could see
over a hundred trains leave, hauling around 2,000 wagons of coal.
Each helped serve London’s power and pumping stations, gas
works, factories and domestic fireplaces. Further important
traffic flows were bricks from Peterborough, vegetables (especially
potatoes) from Lincolnshire and fish from Scotland.
From the 1920s the Down Yard was principally concerned with
holding and marshalling empty wagons, particularly those
returning to collieries for reloading, In addition it made up
freight trains to travel north carrying loads unsuitable for express
transit from Kings’ Cross Goods Depot. In 1925 some 71,000
wagons were dealt with in the yards but by the late 1950s it had
fallen to just over half of that. Although an obvious target, the
yards did not suffer greatly from bombing in World War II.,
although night work had to be performed without artificial
lighting. The flyover was damaged by a bomb in October 1940
but was quickly repaired. The approaches to the viaduct were on
brick arches; on the Down side these provided air raid shelters.
The bridge section of the flyover, becoming life expired, was
renewed in 1962; the fall in its use meant it could be reduced
from double to single track.
Declining rail traffic from the early 1950s ultimately closed the
yards. Principal causes were the growth of road haulage and the
decrease in demand for coal. Oil and gas could be used to provide
power for industry and domestic central heating. Natural gas
replaced production of town gas from coal. By Autumn 1966
coal workings to and from Ferme Park had ceased. Tracks in the
Up Yard were removed in the early 1970s. Its site was used for
the depot and associated sidings for the new electric suburban
trains. The Down Yard had seen some contraction in 1959 to
allow the erection of a cold store. An estate of warehouses,
initially rail-served, followed in 1968-9. What then remained
was used for servicing sidings for main line passenger trains. This
situation remains substantially unaltered.
But an explanation for the crash of wagons is necessary. Some
marshalling yards use hump shunting whilst others use flat
shunting. In hump shunting wagons are propelled up a gradient
to the hump. Once over that, the ground falls away, enabling the
wagons to reach their destination in one of the sidings by gravity.
In flat shunting the whole work is done on the level. Consequently
the locomotive propelling the wagons has to push them with
sufficient force for them to reach their destination. Ferme Park
used flat shutting in both Up and Down Yards. Unfortunately
the Up Yard was hampered by a gradient of 1 in 280 at its north
end, a hindrance to wagons which were all pushed into the yard
from its south end. No doubt over time drivers developed an
expertise in how hard to push the wagons. Most of the time they
were successful but occasionally the wagons travelled too fast,
hitting those already in the siding with a loud crash. And thus
disturbing the calm of lessons at the school.
Reg Davies
27
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
Cecil Newton War Memories
IN MEMORIAM
Lieutenant WILLIAM FREDERIC NEWTON, 5th
Royal Tank Regiment, treacherously killed in action at
Ristedt, Germany by the SS on 9th April 1945 aged 22
years. Beloved elder son of the late Katie and Frederic and
brother to Owena and Cecil. In proud and loving
memory, always remembering your great sacrifice for
peace and freedom.
INTRODUCTION
Liverpool was not only a large port before the First World War,
it was the centre of the world cotton trade. My father started his
career with Weld & Co Cotton. He was sent out to Bombay in
1912 and became manager. Katie Thomas, my mother went out
to India to join him and started a family, Owena in 1920 and
Frederic in 1922. My father resigned from Weld & Co in 1919
and returned to the UK, soon after added, to the family in 1923
with another son, me, Hugh Cecil.
On the return from India a flat was found at St Georges Square
near Victoria, London then moved to 26, Elmcourt Road, West
Norwood SE 27 with a final move to 160 Dukes Avenue
Muswell Hill N10. In the meantime mother’s family rallied
around. Owena went to stay at Plas Medd with Uncle Teg, her
brother and Auntie Lena and daughters Margaret and Joan,
Frederic went to stay at Chwaen Goch, with her sister Auntie
Owena and Uncle William who had a son Gwlym and I went to
stay at Llanrwst with Auntie Blod and Uncle Jack who had a
daughter Gwen. The friendship between. Gwen and I lasted a
lifetime until she died in a care home in Llandudno. It was at
Llanrwst that I was introduced to the world when I was taken up
the hill to watch the eclipse of the sun 1926.
The farm at Chwaen Goch before the war was primitive; The
WC was situated outside in a small brick building at the rear of
the farm house. The privy had two holes side by side. I could
never work out whether this was for two people to use at the
same time. What it did mean was a long and freezing walk
sometime in gale force winds in the middle of the night from a
warm cosy bed.
Sudney, the domestic, woke the household up early to the sound
of wooden clogs clattering on the flag stone paving in the dairy.
Fresh drinking water was available from a spring in a meadow a
distance from the farm house. There was wing on the farm house
for the stables and above the stables accommodation for the men
who worked on the farm accessed by a wooden open staircase.
My Uncle William was very much of the scene, working on the
land, looking after the sheep and cattle with Toss the sheep dog,
hedging and cutting down nettles with a scythe together with
hay making and the harvest.
What I did not realise that it was the end of an era never to
return.
THE YEARS BETWEEN
Eventually the move to Dukes Avenue Muswell Hill was the
commencement of settling in after the return of my parents from
India. When of school age, Rhodes Avenue School, was
convenient primary school, although a fair walk as was Muswell
Hill Broadway, the church St Saviours, and Stationers’ the
secondary school. Rhodes Avenue School had not been long
built and was very modern, single storey with large Crittal
windows. Our form mistress was Miss Cox and a formidable
disciplinarian, if a pupil was not behaving or attending to lesson,
the pupil was called up to the front of the class, their sleeve
pushed up to expose the arm for a vigorous smacking.
Alexandra Palace was easily accessible with extensive grounds
and a sizable lake for sailing model boats and messing around.
One of the four towers was pulled down to eaves level and a TV
mast erected. Frederic had an occasion to talk to the engineers
erecting the mast. They asked if he would like to visit the top,
which he did.
Locally near Rhodes Avenue School a modern open air Olympic
style swimming pool was built. At Durnsford Road frequent
visits were made and we all became good at swimming. It always
seemed to be sunny weather, chasing around the pool and
flicking towels at each other.
There was no TV but frequent visits were made to either of the
cinemas in Muswell Hill, the Odeon or the Ritz.
From the news shown on the screens it was obvious all was not
well internationally with scenes of the Prime Minster Neville
Chamberlain standing in Downing Street waving a piece of
paper and exclaiming Peace in our Time, a gesture he regretted
afterwards. The family responded to the times; 160 Dukes
Avenue became an Air Raid Wardens Post, the front door
protected by sand bags and a phone installed with a metal plate
fixed to the front gate, Air Raid Warden. After the primary
school Frederic and I went to Stationers’ Company's School and
Owena went to Trinity High School. Major Huck was the
headmaster at Stationers’ and soon after our arrival he was
succeeded by S C Nunn. All the masters wore gowns. The
possibility of war loomed nearer and whilst we were on holiday
in North Wales we learnt that the school had been evacuated to
Wisbech Cambs. A decision had to be made by our parents to
either return or stay in North Wales but it was decided to go to
Wisbech.
Our host was Mr Brown, a local butcher. Mr Gallimore, a master
at he school was the billeting officer and I was recruited as an
assistant to him when I was not sitting at my desk. Brother
Frederic often went to help at the butcher’s shop. With a war on
and supplies being short Mr Brown lived off the land if he could,
ie: sat in the sitting room with the window open and the life
support of a cigarette catching pigeons. This was accomplished
by a large garden sieve operated by a stick and a length of string.
It was very successful but sea gulls were not welcome so had a bit
of a rough ride.
Mr Brown had to register for military service at Kings Lynn and
decided to cycle there... He was perplexed that passing motorists
knew what his mission was as they were waving at him; he soon
found out when he saw his blazing jacket ignited by his pipe put
in his pocket still smouldering.
They were a very pleasant couple and made us feel at home as all
the other hosts did where we stayed. One of hosts was the
Davies, who lived in a large house on the road to Kings Lynn. Mr
Davies embraced a life style of many years previous with a stove
pipe hat and a Daimler car. They had a 3 year-old son Martin.
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T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
One day he went missing and a search was made without success.
Just by chance a manhole cover was lifted by the back door and
there he was sitting comfortably.
THE WAR
My parents were volunteers for the Civil Defence so were busy
fitting gas masks at Rhodes Avenue School in the evenings. A
telephone was provided and the front step sandbagged. After a
year the war started, incendiary bombs were dropped and a baby
was killed a few doors away when a doodle bug cut out and came
down. An anti-aircraft gun engaged the enemy from the railway
line at the rear of the garden. We collected the shrapnel from the
garden.
Sister Owena was the first to volunteer joining the WAAFS and
was posted to Radlett where there was a Beam Bending unit.
The German planes followed a beam to their target and the unit
bent the beam with the result the bombs were dropped
harmlessly in the Wash. Frederic was the next to volunteer and
joined the Westminster Dragoons. It was a tank regiment and in
peace time a territorial regiment. When my turn came I
volunteered for the 4th/7th Royal Dragoon Guards a cavalry
regiment converted to an armoured regiment just before the war.
Owena survived the war, married Basil, a Major in the Rajputana
Rifles and badly wounded at Monte Cassino, Italy. Frederic was
transferred to the 5th Royal Tank Regiment. He was treacherously
killed in an ambush by snipers a month before the end of the war
at Ristedt during the campaign to liberate Bremen. As for me, I
was indeed pursued by good luck. You are lucky to be alive wrote
a recipient after reading my book ‘A Troopers Tale’; landing 5
minutes before the main assault to capture a blockhouse,*
involved in the thick of the Normandy fighting, Market Garden
the Arnhem fiasco and then the endeavour to get into Germany
via the small frontier town of Tripsrath already well defended by
elite German troops. We spent the night in a trench dug in front
of the house and left with the house erupting in a ball of fire
under hail of eight Moaning Minnies direct hit We entered the
small town and the end of the war for me with a smashed left leg
and a bullet in the back jumping 3 metres from a blazing tank
into a sea of mud and crawling into a nearby house. That was not
the end of the story as it was not until the end of the day I was
rescued to have medical attention on a Bren gun carrier. Back in
the UK enroute to Leicester chest hospital the leg plaster was
taken off in error to discover the leg was infected with B welchi
- gas gangrene.
* Troops who landed on D Day June 1944 were awarded the Legion
d’honneur by the French authorities
POST WAR
It was over and slowly adjusting to normal peacetime but it was
not until the end of 1945 that I could decide on a job. Looking
at the destruction I decided to take up the career in building as a
Quantity Surveying and was accepted and after a year qualified.
I found a job at Fleetwood Eversden and Partners and after a
year changed to Bare Leaning & Bare. The senior partner Hector
Wilson asked if I would open a branch office at Swindon which
I accepted and was with them until I retired. I found a building
site in Aldboune Wilshire which a bought for £250.00 brought
up a family with Joy my wife who died in 2012. The location is
lovely and quiet now as I write this in 2020.
Cecil Newton
Stunning Landscapes
from Les Humphries
We live on Wolf Grove Road, a county road, a couple of miles
out of Almonte. It runs through a section of the Canadian
Shield, a mass of granite rock, totally unsuited for farming, but
liberally covered with forest and swamp. Homes along this road
exist in small clearings amid the surrounding bush. My neighbour
is one of the few whose swamp features a pond fed by spring
melt and kep in place by a beaver dam on a downstream
neighbour's property.
I walk the dog on the shoulder of our road and pass the
neighbour's pond just about every day, all year round. In winter,
the pond freezes over, while, in summer it plays host to beaver,
turtles, deer, mosquitos and the occasional bear. Winter and fall
afford the best variety in terms of colour and contrast, so I've
attached a shot of the same scene, taken in winter, plus a shot of
the location as seen from the road. Hope this is of interest.
Les Humphries
A curious incident at
Stationers’ Park
In 2018 I helped to organise a reunion celebrating 60 years since
joining Stationers’. I was tasked with finding a suitable restaurant
in Crouch End so my wife and I went there on a Monday
lunchtime – schoolboy error as most were closed. So not to waste
the visit, I suggested we go and see where Stationers’ school had
been and where I had spent 7 years of my life.
As we drove slowly up Mayfield Road we were flagged down by
a young woman in a hijab who was clearly distressed. It appears
she had been in Stationers’ Park with her sister-in-law and their
three children and after strapping them in the rear seats, the
doors had locked automatically with her keys inside. The
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T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
children were aged 4, 2 and 9 months, and were beginning to
become distressed, so we started singing nursery rhymes to keep
them amused. We noticed that our versions didn’t always match
Mum’s culturally aligned ones.
The spare sets of keys were with her mother in Barnet, so her
sister-in-law set off in her car to retrieve them. We then called
her breakdown service. Unfortunately cars have advanced since
you could use a ‘slim jim’ to jiggle the pop-up buttons to release
the lock. Having no success there I called the Police whom, I am
pleased to say, arrived within 10 minutes. They set off to Muswell
Hill on ‘blues and two’s’ to intercept the sister-in-law and speed
up the process, whilst we continued to sing nursery rhymes and
perform an impromptu puppet show.
Sometime later the police returned with the key and opened the
car, much to the relief of mum and the three kids. Not before
time as we had exhausted our repertoire of children’s
entertainment.
Peter Miller 1958-1966
Further recollections of the Rhone Canoeing trip in 1966
I too have some recollections of this trip, some vague and some
not so. The trip started with a problem before we had even left
London, that meant I nearly did not make it.
My parents had offered to pick up Charlie Zarb and take him to
Victoria station, so we duly arrived at his house or flat, I cannot
remember, in plenty of time. He was not ready so we went in and
after I think nearly an hour he was ready. He picked up a file with
all the paperwork for the trip, then his money and then said passport
and picked it up, to which my Dad gasped as we had left my
passport at home in Southgate. A decision was made that Charlie
would get a friend to take him and me to the station, while my Mum
& Dad made a dash back to Southgate to get my passport.
Charlie and I duly arrived at the station and it was going to be
touch and go if my Dad would get back before the train departed.
We were travelling with another school party on the same
holiday and they were on a group passport. As time got nearer to
the train departure (they were on time in those days) it transpired
that one of the other party pupils had had an accident and was
not coming, so there was a possibility to go as him. The train
departed and I left Victoria station as Patrick Sabini on the other
school’s group passport.
My father arrived at Victoria station apparently to see the rear of
the train disappearing out of the station, having broken all speed
limits possible.
So we finally got to France and Lyon by perhaps some
unconventional means. I have some vague memories of the
holiday, unfolding the canvas canoes from the trailer, preparing
them each day and going in some sort of flotilla down the river,
as Roger says camping at night. One recollection I have is at one
stop a local farmer coming to the campsite with a cart stacked up
with fresh cherries and we all bought quite a quantity and ate
some that evening, but, when canoeing the next day, cherry
stones being ejected from various canoes as we progressed down
the river. I remember going past Avignon and under the bridge
For many of us it was our first encounter of foot pad squat loo’s,
not what we were used to at all, nor the swarm of flies and smell,
despite many of us having been on numerous Scout camps and
digging our own latrines, (Public Health and Health & Safety,
what‘s that in 1966?).
I also remember, I think, from Arles we went to the Pont du
Gard and swam in the river. The sailing was good sailing and
canoeing on the Med and then we returned, I think by train in
couchette compartments.
Although my parents posted my passport to the last campsite, it
never caught up with me and I came back as Patrick and my
passport arrived home a couple of weeks later.
RossThompson
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T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
Homeward Bound
If you’re looking for
something to cheer you
up at Christmas, try
Homeward Bound by
Richard Smith, a beautifully
told feel-good story
about a grandfather and
his granddaughter who
long for purpose and
connection. Sharing a
passion for music, one of
them hopes to revive
missed opportunities of
the past, the other is
looking forward to a
future career.
George is a recently widowed seventy-nine-year-old. He nearly
made it as a rock star in the 1960s, but now his son-in-law is
trying to shunt him into in a care home and he is not ready to
go. Tara is his teenage granddaughter and she's taken refuge
from her bickering parents by moving in with George.
George has never revealed why his music career stalled and
no-one knows just how much the disappointment of opportunities
missed still gnaw at him. He craves one last chance, even at his age.
When opportunity presents itself, through the appearance of a
long-lost distant relative - whose chequered past should set
alarm bells ringing - he can't resist.
For Tara, living with her grandfather is a way to find her own path
and develop her own musical ambitions. She isn't prepared for the
clash between different generations and living in a strange house
full of her grandfather's memories - and vinyl records.
They get off to a shaky start. George takes an instant dislike to
the sounds from her bedroom that seem more suited to
Guantanamo Bay than anything he would call musical. But as
time plays out, they find more similarities - neither know how to
operate a dishwasher - than differences, and parallels across the
generations slowly bring them to recognise their shared strengths.
Author Richard Smith was a Stationer 1960-67. Following a career
in television production, Homeward Bound is his first novel.
Richard Smith
English is a crazy language
Having lived in Germany for 45 years many keen locals have
often confronted me with questions regarding various aspects of
the English language. Certains areas of confusion begin to arise
with the influence of American filtering into our own English.
In these days of superfluous prepositions used as in “watching
on”, “rise up” or “heading up” or even “entering in” I have found
difficulty supplying a convincing answer as the following text
may help to illustrate.
Let's face it - English is a crazy language.
There is no egg in eggplant, nor ham in hamburger; neither
apple nor pine in pineapple. English muffins were not invented
in England nor French fries in France. Sweetmeats are candies
while sweetbreads, which aren't sweet, are meat.
We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we
find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square and
a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.
And why is it that writers write but fingers don't fing, grocers
don't groce and hammers don't ham? If the plural of tooth is
teeth, why isn't the plural of booth, beeth? One goose, 2 geese.
So one moose, 2 meese? One index, 2 indices?
Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one
amend? If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all
but one of them, what do you call it?
If teachers taught, why didn't preachers praught? If a vegetarian
eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? Sometimes I
think all the English speakers should be committed to an asylum
for the verbally insane. In what language do people recite at a
play and play at a recital? Ship by truck and send cargo by ship?
Have noses that run and feet that smell?
How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise
man and a wise guy are opposites? You have to marvel at the
unique lunacy of a language in which your house can burn up as
it burns down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out and in
which, an alarm goes off by going on.
English was invented by people, not computers, and it reflects
the creativity of the human race, which, of course, is not a race at
all. That is why, when the stars are out, they are visible, but when
the lights are out, they are invisible.
PS. - Why doesn't 'Buick' rhyme with 'quick' ?
Alex Flemming 1964-71
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‘ORIGINS’: BOLT COURT WALK
In October 2019 we arranged a series of guided walks ‘Down
Memory Lane’, around Crouch End and the former school site
(see issue 90 of the magazine for a write-up). These were well
received, so we decided to follow up with walks centred on the
site of the original school in Bolt Court in the City: ‘Origins’.
Initially planned for last April, Covid intervened, but at long last
we were able to stage a series of socially distanced walks in
October this year led by the same excellent guide, Karen
Lansdown.
The theme of the walk was the printing, publishing and
bookselling trades that led to the formation of the Stationers’
Guild in 1403. The heart of that business was originally in St
Paul’s Churchyard and what is now Paternoster Square. We
learned that the Stationers played a small part in the destruction
of the old St Paul’s in the Great Fire of 1666, because they had
used it for storing vast amounts of stock at a time when the stone
building was surrounded by wooden scaffolding. We walked into
the square through the transplanted Temple Bar (resurrected in
recent years from its neglect in Theobalds’s Park following its
removal from the Strand in the nineteenth century). Prior to the
war the area comprised lots of small alleys known as Paternoster
Row. The square, which now hosts the London Stock Exchange,
boasts an apparent replica of the Monument; like its doppelganger,
it also commemorates a great fire, this time that caused by the
Blitz – though its real purpose is to disguise a ventilation shaft.
Our next stop was of course Stationers’ Hall, situated just south
of St Paul’s off Ludgate Hill. We were fortunate to be able to see
the exterior of the Stock Room no longer encased in the
scaffolding recently there to enable roof repairs. The Hall itself
(dating from 1606) is now closed for up to 18 months for major
refurbishment. The plaque commemorating Wynkyn de Worde,
who brought printing to that area having learned his trade from
Caxton in Westminster, was pointed out, as were St Martinwithin-Ludgate,
now part of the Stationers’ Hall estate, and the
plaque signifying the site of the Ludgate entrance to the City.
The River Fleet still runs underground at right angles to the
bottom of Ludgate Hill with the old London wall having stood
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parallel to it. We stood at the bottom of the hill and learned
about three prisons that stood close by – Ludgate Prison for
clergymen and liverymen, the Fleet Prison which stood on an
island in the river itself, and the Bridewell Prison, on the site of
the old Bridewell Palace which Henry VIII had vacated because
of the stench from what had become an open sewer.
Next came the St Bride’s Education Institute, which has become
the London Printing College with reputedly the best library
about printing anywhere. The Bridewell Theatre opened in the
same building in 1994. Close by is the Wren-built St Bride’s
Church with its celebrated wedding-cake steeple. Famous as the
journalists’ church and for celebrity weddings, it is also the burial
place of Wynkyn de Worde.
We next came to Fleet Street proper and looked at some of the
former newspaper buildings that followed in the wake of the
world’s first daily newspaper, the Daily Courant, established in
the eighteenth century. The Daily Express building, built in 1932
under Lord Beaverbrook’s ownership, is now occupied by
Goldman Sachs. It is surrounded by a black curtain wall in Art
Nouveau style which is not actually load-bearing (and was called
the ‘Black Lubyanka’ by Private Eye). A little further along Fleet
Street is the former Daily Telegraph building, erected in 1928. Its
style is very different, being based on Egyptian motifs, reflecting
the fascination with Tutankhamun that characterised that period.
Another Egyptian-themed building, just off Fleet Street, is the
old Northcliffe House, first home of the Daily Mail – by the
same architect as the Daily Express building. The first home of
the Sunday Times, founded in 1822, is in a parallel street, as is
the building in which Samuel Pepys was born.
Next door to Northcliffe House stands a building on the site of
the former Greyfriars Monastery which used to house a wood
printing machine, and there are a series of etchings on the
exterior of the building showing in detail the printing processes
and machinery, as well as the construction of Northcliffe House.
Around a corner, in the basement of a firm of solicitors, are
remains of the Whitefriars Monastery crypt, and nearby is a
covered passage, called Magpie Alley, which displays on one wall
the history of printing from Caxton to the present day.
Close to the hearts of journalists – and indeed to many Old
Stationers – are pubs, and there are several still in the Fleet Street
area that were frequented by denizens of particular newspapers.
The Tipperary, for example, was a favourite of News of the
World journalists, whilst Ye Old Cheshire Cheese appealed to
the bloodhounds of the Sun. And in passing that pub, on the
north side of Fleet Street, we came towards the climax of our
walk.
First we came into Gough Square, famous for Dr Johnson’s
House, opposite which stands a statue of his favourite cat,
Hodge. In one corner of the square there is a building which, we
were informed, was on the site of the original playground of the
Stationers’ Company’s School. And then we rounded the corner
into Bolt Court itself. The School stood there between 1861 and
1893. The actual site of the school is occupied by a building put
up in 1912, long after the School had moved to Hornsey. The
current building is covered in scaffolding, but the blue plaque
marking the site of the original school, only put up in the last few
years, is just visible. The guide read from parts of the 1873
prospectus of the School which emphasised that they would not
take boarders – reinforcing the intention that it should be for the
sons of those in the printing and allied trades working in the
vicinity of Stationers’ Hall.
Thus we came to the end of a fascinating walk, which I certainly
hope that we will repeat in the future for anyone whose appetite
has been whetted by this account. And we shall also plan future
walks in London and maybe other cities wherever OS may have
roamed.
Stephen Collins
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By rail trail to the 2019 Cycling World
Championships in Harrogate – Les Humphries
particular, an abandoned section of the Shropshire Canal at
Cerney Wick. The round stone lockmaster's house overlooking a
green pool was redolent more of a moated castle than the
residence it now was.
Leaving Cirencester, it was a quiet A435 climbing gently for 24
km via North Cerney to reach Seven Springs, after which
followed a long bumpy descent into Cheltenham. During the
latter, my map took wing. In now busy traffic, the rest of the day
was spent using road signs and waypoints to navigate around
Worcester en route to Droitwich, the overnight stop. A
remarkably level route affording tantalising glimpses of the
Malvern Hills and the Cotswolds it was broken only by a
I was intrigued when an episode of 'Escape to the Country' in
the Cotswolds brought participants down a section of the
Mercian Way. It stuck in my mind when I learned that the World
Cycling Championships would be taking place in 2019 in
Harrogate. What better excuse I thought than to take a devious
route to Harrogate using the national Cycling Network, taking
in the Mercian Way.
So it was that in mid-September I set out on the first leg of my
ride, after lunch with brother Ray in Goring on Thames. The
ride comprised 64 kilometres along the Ridgeway, an ancient
track running from Ivinghoe to Avebury. It started well - up the
western slope of the Thames Valley on firm if bumpy hard pack,
affording sweeping views across open downland. The route
undulated gently across the
downs but in some places
got progressively more rutted
as a result of motor cycle
activity.
After 8km of this, it was
evident that Swindon, the
destination, would not be
reached before before
nightfall, so the rest of the
journey, via Farnborough,
Lambourne and Ashbury
was completed on quiet local
roads. After the climb to
Farnborough, it was easy
rolling to Ashbury, whence
the Icknield Way ran high
along the edge of the
Chiltern escarpment before
descending to Swindon. 70
km for the day.
The first part of the next day
was spent navigating the
bike route out of Swindon.
This took up much too
much time. By noon with
less than 24k on the clock, it
was pub fare at the Eliot
Arms in South Cerney. The
morning wasn't without its
highlights, however, in
Lockmasters Cottage
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T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
crossing of the Avon at Eckington. Regrettably, the National
Cycle Route I had so much wanted to engage was largely
bypassed. 114 km today.
The next leg to Ironbridge started without the benefit of a map,
so once again it was a matter of puzzling out the Google
overview and asking for directions. Morning rain made for
gloomy going. Back on a readable map at Bewdley, it was
lunchtime and the Severn Valley Railway was in full cry,
complete with steam locomotives, sausage sandwiches and a
mobile pub. The sight of four different trains pulling in and out
of that station was a trainspotters‘ delight. In the absence of an
Ian Allen spotters‘ manual, I was content to enjoy a beer and
sausages.
Now on relatively quiet, B roads, it was a climb up through the
Wyre Forest and on down into Bridgenorth. A carnival was in
full swing, despite the continuing showers. Amid a sheltering
throng, Costa was suffering a melt-down, but ultimately I
managed to get a coffee. Centretown, in the castle ruin, a dance
group was taking the floor to the music of a band. Overlooking
the river Severn, a cable railway afforded access to lower town.
Open to pedestrians only, the cyclist was left to roll slowly down
steep narrow streets to the river.
The Mercian Way finally revealed itself at the Severn bridge.
Running along the west bank it led narrowly through a muddy
wooded section of the Apley Estate. After passing two former
stations, it finally emerged at the Coalport bridge. At Coalport
Youth Hostel, the overnight stop, a strategically placed hose
outside the bike stable washed off accumulated mud. A good
meal and a choice of wine made for a relaxing finish to the day,
in total, 74 km.
Rain continued to threaten the next day, which was spent
exploring Coalport, Coalbrookdale, Blists Hill and Jackfield. In
the narrow gorge of the river Severn, these little villages were the
birthplace of the Industrial Revolution, following the discovery
by Abraham Darby of a method of smelting steel using coal and
limestone instead of charcoal. Ironbridge, the centrepiece of the
gorge is the first of a string of museums detailing the smelting
process and related industries including mining, cast iron
fabrication, pottery and tile manufacture.
A significant feature of the gorge is the Hay Inclined Plane, a
cable railway linking the Shropshire Canal with the River
Severn. Running steeply down from Blists Hill it transported
loaded barges to Coalport, counterbalanced by barges going up.
The rails remain, remarkably preserved following its closure in
1907.
Blists Hill is a Victorian village theme park based on original
industrial revolution structures including a colliery, a blast
furnace and machine shop. A large water transport component
featured an icebreaker used to keep the Severn Estuary open to
winter traffic. Rain precluded the usual re-enactor activity,
leaving visitors to linger in the tea room. 16 km for the day.
Tuesday September 10th promised cloudy skies and more rain.
National Cycle Trail 55 afforded traffic free appeal into Telford
but such appeal as there was got lost in an unfathomable maze of
urban trail options. The final straw came in Donnington where,
shared with the footway, trail users were prompted to dismount
at roundabout intersections.
Now disconnected from NC55 a detour east of Lilleshall led
down a delightful if somewhat puddlesome lane over the
Hay Incline
BridgnorthCastle Hill Railway
Shropshire Canal to Haughton. After drying out over lunch at
the Bell, a further detour yielded the narrow, tree fringed
Derrington Greenway, running to Stafford. Amid busy afternoon
traffic through town the rain stopped. Now it was quiet A518 to
Uttoxeter, where, at its red brick heart, coffee, cake and
collectibles kept welcome company at a vintage shop.
Secondary roads across the vale of the river Dove led through
Rocester and Mayfield to Ashbourne. The town centre was
empty, and with the visitors bureau closed, I was left to fathom
out my own way to the Carleton House Hotel. It turned out that
this took in the Tissington rail trail to the charming village of the
same name. The hotel was reached by a detour onto busy A515.
In the absence of a chef that evening, it was necessary to order in
a pizza from Ashbourne. The pizza was forgettable but
fortunately, the bar was open, so the evening wasn't totally
without compensation. 118 km for the day.
The next day started well, continuing north on the Tissington
Trail to Parsley Hay. Smooth gravel, commanding views across a
landscape of rolling green hills fringed by stone walls, made for
easy pedalling. At Parsley Hay a trailside shop offered coffee
snacks, repairs and bike rentals. A few trail users on mountain
bikes were gathering there for an outing.
After coffee, it was south on the High Peak Trail, heading for
Cromford. This trail, even more spectacular than the last, features
three incline railways. Originally built by a canal company, steam
powered winches pulled waggons up the steep pitches, leaving
the level sections to horses. Subsequently, horses were replaced by
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T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
High Peak Trail below Longcliffe
steam locomotives, including one which took in the 1in14
incline at Hopton Top.
At Hopton where a narrow gauge line served a nearby quarry, a
stone marker bore witness to the source of 180,000
Commonwealth Graves headstones. After Hopton, Middleton
Top, a working museum, showpiece of the trail, was closed, and
the winding engine, silent.
The final incline, a panoramic descent from Black Rocks
commanding magnificent views above Cromford, finished at the
trailhead where a crash pit awaited any wagons that broke away.
Those that made it down intact unloaded at the Cromford canal.
The railside workshop is now a museum where visitors can enjoy
snacks at picnic tables and watch the narrowboat carrying
tourists from Cromford.
Time limitations precluded visiting Cromford, Richard Arkwright's
mill complex, so it was a matter of continuing on the
towpath in the afternoon sunlight towards Ambergate. Leaving
the tree shaded bank of this abandoned section, I joined traffic
on the busy A6. Crossing the river and leaving the A6, a quiet
side road climbed steeply west out of the Derwent valley. After
picking through a maze of narrow lanes around Shottle, I
experienced a flat on the narrow descent into Idridgehay.
Faced now with the sudden realisation that I was missing a repair
kit, (left at the hotel), I started walking back towards Ashbourne
along the busy B6023. A passing cyclist, on his way home from
work, seeing my problem, stopped to help. He very kindly gave
me his last patch. Using
my room key to expose
the tube, I fixed the flat
and continued on the
busy A517 towards Ashbourne.
In the dark now from
Ashbourne, a good front
light illuminated the
Tissington trail back to
Carlton House. This
time they had a chef but I
was too late for dinner. It
was fortunate that there
were a few slices of last
night's pizza left to eat.
These I shared with two
A Commonwealth Graves headstone other guests who were in
Dene's Quarry
the same boat. While this had been the most scenic day of my
trip, it did not come without its price.
90 km for the day.
After yesterday's issues, a 100km plus ride across the Peak to
Burghwallis was questionable but the train from Buxton looked
promising. Once again, it was the Tissington Trail to Parsley Hay
and the well signed bike route through the lanes over the moors
to Buxton.
I took the dayliner to New Mills, lunched at a pub and continued
by rail through Sheffield to Doncaster. Then in busy rush hour
traffic along the A19 to the Burghwallis cut off, I arrived in good
time at my relative's residence. Steak dinner and quiz night in
good company at a local pub made for a perfect end to the day,
total : 24km.
After leaving at 9am next morning, on the last leg to Harrogate,
threatened rain revealed itself within the hour, but not before I
had experienced two more flats. This time it was quite evident
that there was a problem with the front rim. A split in the
sidewall, it was patched with a boot. Continuing on in the lanes
through Womersley, Beel and crossing the Aire & Calder
Navigation near Knottingly , I reached Hillam, where roads had
been closed for the Junior Worlds. I missed the race but enjoyed
lunch at the Crosskeys pub anyway.
Continuing on through Sherburn and Aberford and along the
A1 service road to Bramham, I met up with another cyclist.
Bobby Brown, of the Yorkshire Road Club. We rode together
towards Wetherby. As we chatted, the rain started up again and
I experienced yet another flat. With Bobby escorting I continued
gingerly on the front rim to All Terrain Cycles.
The folks there were very helpful in fitting the new tyre over a
very tight rim (which I swore to replace as soon as I got home).
Bobby pointed me towards Harrogate and I joined busy traffic
on a highway awash with rain, avoiding the temptation to take
the rail trail and risk wet gravel. 66 km covered today.
I met up with my sister and brother-in-law at their camper van
in a downtown Harrogate site. We spent a sunny Saturday and a
soggy Sunday as spectators among the crowds at the downtown
finish of the World's. After more days than I care to remember
cycling in the rain, I empathised totally with the shattered
remnants of the Elite Men's field who struggled so bravely for
over 250km to the race finish.
Les Humphries
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T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
MY BRUSH WITH THE LAW
Ken Stevens
My brush with the law was a very modest, understated affair
when I got honey-trapped an aeon ago not long after leaving
Glasgow homeward for London. There I was scorching the
tarmac in my Ford Escort – no, not that model but its 1172cc,
100E sidevalve predecessor with a three speed gearbox. The
windscreen wipers were operated with the “spare” vacuum from
the inlet port and so they barely crawled across the windscreen
when accelerating or climbing a hill (couldn’t do both at the
same time). Coasting downhill, the wipers wope so furiously that
they seemed to be trying to break free.
Motorway provision was a bit patchy at that time and significant
portions of the journey were on ordinary roads. We were
approaching a village that flanked the main road and noted with
delight that it now had a dual carriageway bypass, which we
turned onto. Thinking that it was an opportunity to make up
some time in the next couple of miles, I put my foot to the floor
and my speed rose to nearly 40 mph, just as I noted a police car
gaining on me. With incredible skill, he managed to overtake me
in his Morris Minor and pulled me over. I wasn’t exceeding 40
mph, I whined. He just pointed to the nearest small 30 mph
repeater sign and booked me, scarcely concealing his joy. The
wild west aspect was enhanced by my licence endorsement being
by Paisley Sheriff Court.
Peter Miller
In April 2010 my wife and I were visiting our younger son,
Howard who was living in Kampala, Uganda.
On some days we used to take him to his office, where he worked
as a Development Economist, so we could have use of his rather
battered 4x4 for outings. Traffic in Kampala is appalling, with
‘might is right’ seemingly being the only rule of the road. One
day Howard forgot his pass so we drove back to his office, or
rather attempted to. Before it had been easy as he was with us,
but now we had to remember the route. Not surprisingly we got
lost and I made a U turn just before a Police checkpoint. I
realised my mistake when I looked in the rear view mirror to see
a young Police Officer chasing me with an AK-47 in one hand,
shout ‘Mzungu (white man) STOP’. When he caught up with us
we were faced with an angry and armed young officer demanding
to know what I was doing.
I had recently retired from the Metropolitan Police as an
Inspector after 33 years service, though was still employed by
them in a civilian capacity. I would like to think it was my
charming him as an ex kindred spirit which got us through, but
it probably had more to do with waving Howard’s Government
pass and my driving licence under his nose. In any event he was
very friendly in the end and we shook hands, and discussed
Police pensions (well I did, I’m not convinced he knew what I
was talking about though he did compliment me on my
understanding of Ugandan English).
A week later we were still in Kampala, there being no flights out
due to the Icelandic volcanic ash cloud. We were driving on a
three lane urban highway choked with traffic, when we were
again stopped by the Police. This time it was a female officer and
it appears we had gone through a red traffic light. It was news to
me as I hadn’t seen any lights. This time I didn’t have Howard’s
government pass with me. She asked to see my driving licence
which I duly showed her, but refused to let her take possession of
it, wondering whether I would ever see it again. She gave us
directions to the nearest Police station, and said she would follow,
but I wasn’t happy doing that either. So the Sergeant was
summoned. It’s amazing how a friendly smile and a handshake
can diffuse a situation. Again we ended up talking Police
pensions, and left on friendly terms, our supposed misdemeanour
being forgotten.
Alan Green
Some time last October 2020 Tim suggested that a contribution
may be made to the then blank pages of the January 2021
Magazine. One of his headings was “ A Brush with the Law “ so
I thought I might add a few words but from the sentencing side
as opposed to those who transgress.
In about 1989 with time on my hands I wondered if it were
possible to become a Magistrate. I duly applied and provided two
referees who were each given almost a book length form to
complete as to my background. I then attended an interview in
early 1990 which was unusual in that two people faced me and
two sat behind. As part of the process I was supplied with a
typical case in which the son of the Mayor leaves a football
match with his mates and they cause minor damage to an elderly
person‘s garden and issue words of abuse to the owner. The only
one apprehended was, of course, the Mayor's son. What would I
do, they ask, and quick as a centre forward I reply by saying that
if he had run a bit faster none of this would have happened.
Realising that this was not the right answer I muttered “only
joking“ and then suggested he might be banned from future
football matches, pay some compensation to the elderly guy, and
do some service in the community. My quick thinking may have
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saved my bacon. Next procedure was for me to visit ten
magistrate courts in London, introduce myself and sit in the well
of the court and begin the learning process of what goes on.
Sometimes at the end of the day or at lunchtime I would be
asked how I had enjoyed the day and on maybe two occasions I
was invited behind the scenes. This process took some two years,
and after a final interview I was sent a very formal letter, in early
1992, advising that I was now a Justice of the Peace.
I then lived in London’s West End, close to Regents Park, and
was allocated to South Central Division which encompasses the
Courts of Camberwell and Tower Bridge. At that time it was
thought best, certainly so far as London was concerned, not to
live in your area of jurisdiction. Camberwell was then the busiest
court in London and if any new means of processing were to be
tried out then Camberwell was the pilot court. As an example
when video links were first used from prisons and police stations
they were first experimented from Camberwell. Hence we had
many visits from the current Justice Secretary and I met Lord
Faulkner several times on his regular inspections. Camberwell
had about 100 Lay Magistrates who are the unpaid lot and some
five Stipendiary Magistrates, now called District Judges who
have a legal background and are full time employed. They sit on
their own and we sit as a Bench of three or perhaps two. For
obvious reasons two are not acceptable for a trial. Our division
was headed by a Justices Clerk, maybe twelve support staff, a
listing office of twenty or so who are compiling case lists with
only a few hours notice and the ten or so Clerks who are the
main judiciaries within any Court. They do not control the court
but are there to advise if required.
My colleagues were generally a pretty similar and equal mix of
gender, average age about fifty, white, verging upon professional
and middle class. We did have union officials, builders, a cab
driver but all mainly white collar. Many of the women having
enjoyed bringing up their families and never having worked
outside of the home, decided to have a go and, I think, they
found it difficult. In my opinion it would have been better to
have had a more widespread choice from the workplace. But who
can give up the time and younger people who do so diminish
promotion chances.
So how does it work? Camberwell had five courts and three at
Tower Bridge. At each venue Court Number One was reserved
for District Judges who would deal with more complicated
matters and maybe where a celebrity appeared. The latter
perhaps being their choice as often press took their seats.
Together the Magistrates Courts deal with over 95% of all
criminal cases. Most matters are summary only, can only be dealt
with in the lower court, some are either way and can be dealt
with at lower level or at Crown Court and the greatest crimes
murder, arson, rape, etc are indictable only. But every crime is
heard first at the Magistrates Court.
Our day would start by arriving near to 9.30am to learn to which
court you have been allocated, who you are to sit with and then
to collect or often wait for the day’s list. The need to wait is
brought about by the pressure on the list office to type the lists
that very morning. So often you enter the Court at 10.00am,
where everybody respectfully stands, clutching a list which you
have had no opportunity to peruse. You will say good morning
and sit, at which point your Clerk will invariably say “just a few
extra matters before we start the list, search warrants being
applied for from… Police Station, Overnight matters, Proceeds
of Crime Order which needs urgent dispatch etc etc”. Then we
get to the list and it can start at any number. Someone is led into
the dock, the usher is directing other defendants to sit near the
front of the Court and in, for example Court 2 at Camberwell,
there could be 30 plus people in the well of the court with the
public gallery accommodating several more. But somehow it all
gets done. In the afternoons in Court 2 would be trials but I
would always check in the morning as to which were going to be
effective. No point, as it could happen that two trials are listed
each of possibly four hours duration. So you would cancel one as
early as possible to save all the parties coming to court.
In order to maintain your JP role you only have to sit 13 times a
year, say once a month, which I regard as verging upon
incompetence. But they were the rules.
I used to sit once or often twice a week. In 1996, four years after
I began, I was made a Presiding Justice which is the one who sits
in the middle and does the talking. It is something you apply for
and involves interviews and videos of yourself trying to do the
job and being assessed by senior colleagues. Not everyone wants
to become a PJ and some that do fall by the wayside. The initial
sittings as PJ are a cause for concern. Am I allowed to interrupt?
Can I ask questions? What do I do with the chap chewing gum
who insists on wearing his baseball cap and keeps his hands in
his pocket? The defence lawyer looks me pointedly in the eye
and makes reference to a legal issue which, if he is correct, would
let his Client leave the building free of any guilt or blemish upon
his character.
First time you sentence in public is difficult. You are handed a
what you might say leaflet but far better to speak without any
script. And the first time you send someone to prison means
taking a deep breath and assuming your most serious expression.
I volunteered for after hours search warrants and that Mr Green
became very popular, with the nearby courts, as I had moved to
living almost next to London Bridge Station. Only Lay
Magistrates sign these warrants, the Stipendiary or District
Judges decline, on the grounds that they may be too tired for the
next day’s work. Normal telephone calls were early morning
especially for the TSG (Territorial Support Group) as they like
to batter down doors when folk are most likely to be asleep. I
became almost too popular but did get my own back after having
once been called at 5.00am, and then of course you can't go back
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to sleep, and eventually two burly uniformed guys knocked on
my door at 9.00am. “‘Ello Mr Green, sorry bit late, come for
Warrant”. I replied that I was not even going to consider it as no
longer out of hours and I would be breaking the law if I were to
sign. After a bit of “we’ve come a long way, this guy’s a real
criminal, can’t you please help”, I said no you can only now apply
to a Court and with some muttering they went on their way.
Throughout the Judiciary there is a right to Appeal all the way
until you reach the Supreme Court and I sat on Appeals from all
of the London Magistrates Courts. I sat at Inner London,
Southwark and Blackfriars Crown Courts and you sit with a
fully qualified Judge who, after the Appeal is concluded, will
invariably ask you your decision first before he gives his opinion.
These sittings were in addition to the lower court. I also found
myself as Secretary of the Inner London Magistrates Association,
a body which represents the interest of all the London Courts.
So I was a bit of a glutton for punishment.
I finished up as Deputy Chairman of South Central Division in
2018 and was compulsorily retired in 2020 on the inescapable
ground of age. On the eve of your 70th Birthday is your last
sitting and when mine finished about 6.00pm, you knew as you
left the building, that never again would you be able to climb
those stairs from the secret entrance at the rear of the court.
During my twenty years one would visit most of the Prisons in
the London catchment and The Young Offenders Institute
(Borstal) at Feltham. I used to go to local schools and explain
what we did. I remember once, and this, of course, is South
London, a nine year old shouting out “my Dad’s in for GBH!”.
May I table a few memories?...
Having a most disruptive male defendant who decided to leap
from the dock with a view perhaps to throw a chair at me. Quick
as a flash our usher left the room and found an able body of six
policemen who quickly secured the defendant and dragged him
towards the door leading to the cells. But as they reached the
door with the chap struggling and shouting they all turned as
one and bowed to the Bench.
A case involving a young lady staying at a Bail Hostel. There are
categories of Bail Hostels and this was one of the very worst with
conditions bleak and unfriendly where the homeless stay for
minimum periods. The young lady had been visited by a
boyfriend, who not unusually in South London, had pulled a
knife. There was a witness who appeared to say what she had
seen. A frail elderly lady and I asked where she lived. The answer
was in room 10 just across the corridor and that she had been
there for ten years. I said there are better places for you to live
whereupon the Clerk remonstrated saying not my concern. But I
prevailed and with the ushers help the lady was found a route to
a new and better home.
Forty year old male, mental age of ten, who was accused of an
interest in young boys and our job was to find him another
Hostel as he was subject to severe bullying in his present home.
Condition of his bail was to remain in a Hostel pending his trial.
He appeared before us about 4.00pm and I noticed an elderly
couple in the Public Gallery and I asked if they were his mum
and dad - answer Yes.
So the Clerk shopped around and we found a Hostel in Cardiff.
"Well that’s it", said the Clerk "nothing else on the List"… Court
Rise “No”, I said “how’s he going to get to Cardiff?” “Not your
problem, Sir, he will be given a train voucher on the way out from
the building”. “No”, I said, “I require a social worker to travel with
him”. “Well”, said our learned Clerk (who may have been booked
in for the Millwall v Arsenal floodlight match that evening),
“better that he goes into the cells overnight as we won’t find a
social worker at 5.00pm”. I said I was willing to try, said my
colleagues could go home and I would stay in Court with or
without the Clerk until a social worker arrived. And I said to the
elderly parents “come and collect your son and take him out for
something to eat and he is bailed to come back here by no later
than 6.30”. End result it all worked out. But you have to
remember that it is Your Court and sometimes common sense
has to prevail.
Remember joining one of the most exclusive Clubs in the UK.
For one guinea I joined The Inner London Crown Court Dining
Club where when at Court you could go and dine at minimal
prices in the Judges restaurant and you could help yourself to a
sherry or two from a large cauldron on a wooden bench. Almost
Dickensian and menu was normally boiled beef and carrots. You
would dine with maybe ten other Crown Court Judges, most of
whom remained in full regalia, who whilst accepting your
presence had very little conversation. They do, I fear, lead a very
lonely life.
I was picked to go to Liverpool to report upon a new experiment
with combining all the judicial processes in one building. It
contained a Police Station, listing office, Probation, legal backup
with a Duty Solicitor and two District Judges. All housed in a
deprived location and in a number of portacabins hastily put
together. Idea was after an arrest for the defendant to pass
through all the channels and, if custody the answer, a van would
be at the end to transport the culprit directly to his future home.
Speedy process and useful to act as a deterrent. Don't know how
it panned out but seemed a good idea.
With the other Committee Members of the Inner London
Magistrates Association we were invited to experience a normal
half days work in a Police Launch patrolling the Thames. What
a great day out. We cruised from Houses of Parliament through
the Thames Barrier apprehending some drug dealers en route.
Five of us and five of them. But very surprisingly the man in
charge at their Wapping base said, after his introductory talk,
that he was a true Londoner having attended the Stationers’
School. I can’t remember his name but I sent him info about
OSA, invites to things and social functions, but he never took the
bait.
And finally there was a local plain clothes policeman, who was
often in court, and we knew each other by sight only. In the
morning we would sometimes board the same bus at London
Bridge. On each occasion he would nod briefly, allow me to get
on first, and then he would sit on the seat behind me. A sort of
guardian but we never spoke.
Whats happened to Camberwell Court? It was to be totally
refurbished at vast cost and as I have some property knowledge I
sat upon the thought process. Despite large sums of money spent
upon fees, the idea collapsed. It has been vacant for a few years
but last year was purchased by the Criterion Group who propose
a redevelopment of 400 affordable housing units each of 398
square feet. Hardly enough room to swing a small cat.
Likewise the Listed Tower Bridge Court was closed and has now
been converted to a very smart boutique Hotel aptly named
Dixons. Business of both spread around London but directed
primarily to the enlarged court at Croydon.
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I am sure some of you have been on the Bench and my comments
may bring back some memories. There may be a few of you
young enough to take the plunge and hope my words do not put
you off. For those who want any reading matter may I recommend
‘Summary Justice’ a most excellent paperback written by Roger
Farrington a Camberwell colleague.
N C ‘Fris’ Friswell
I had an interview with ‘Beaky’ Davies about what I might do
when I left Stationers. He didn’t mention engineering as a
possibility but, nevetheless, that is where I ended up; working for
the Electricity Board as a Student Apprentice. It just suited me
and I thoughoughly enjoyed my first 20 years as a professional
electrical engineer. Promotion usually meant that one applied for
a post and had to move to a different area. Faced with a bit of a
stagnation in employment in the Electricity Supply Industry I
decided to change direction and joined the newly-formed Health
& Safety Executive (HSE) as a specialist electrical safety
Inspector.
My work included inspecting workplaces for risks from electricity
and investigating electrical accidents. This is where I came into
contact with the Law! HSE was built on the previous organisation
of the Factory Inspectorate. There was a new Health & Safety at
Work Act but electrical safety in factories depended on the
Electricity Regulations of 1908. For a long time there were no
specific regulations for electrical safety in the ‘new entrant’
workplaces such as shops, offices, schools, etc.
If there had been a serious transgression from the electrical
safety requirements of the Regulations or the Health & Safety at
Work Act this would often lead to a prosecution. When I joined
HSE, there was no Crown Prosecution Service; Factory
Inspectors were empowered to prosecute. If it was especially
serious, such as a multiple fatality, a barrister might well be
employed to prosecute. Theoretically Electrical Inspectors had
the same powers but, as far as I know no prosection was ever
taken by an Electrical Inspector. Our role was usually as Expert
Witness. This put one in an interesting position as an employee
of the prosecting authority I was expected to advise the
prosecuting Inspector on the electrical technicalities and how
they tied in with the legislation but, once in Court, I was
expected to have a non-partisan role in assisting the Court to
understand the technicalities. Sometimes the defendant company
would put forward their own expert witness and ocassionally this
resuted in seriously diverse opinions (and in one case I was
involved in, downright lies).
One of the ‘games’ played in the Court process was for the
defence to try to destroy the expert witness. This was in the days
before experts were registered and, as an expert, one had to watch
for a threat to your reputation at the same time as assisting the
Court in the case. Nerve-wracking at first, I grew to enjoy the cut
and thrust of the prosecution process. We usually won our cases
because we were careful only to proceed if we knew we were on
firm ground, but sometimes we lost, resulting in a serious inquest
back at the office.
Inspectors also got involved in the other sort of inquest; the formal
enquiry by a coroner into the death of someone. An electrical
fatality at work would result in an inquest, sometimes with a jury
but sometimes without. I really enjoyed a good inquest. They were
usually much less formal than a prosecution although they are
always tempered by sadness that it involves someone’s death.
Sometimes a coroner would visit the site of the accident taking the
Inspector with him, better to understand the technicalities and
often the Coroner would ask the Inspector to sit with him for the
same reason. Unlike in a criminal court, witnesses would be
allowed to be present throughout the proceedings, giving a better
picture of the circumstances of the death.
After some years working at various places in the south of England,
it looked like I was unlikely to move again. At the time, there was
(and still is) a shortage of magistrates. I was still with HSE but in
a desk-bound job so I decided to apply to become a local
magistrate. I was not, of course, allowed to sit on cases involving
the HSE. The Civil Service allowed their emplotees paid leave as
a magistrate for at least 26 half-days a year but this was delendent
on one’s manager. My boss (whose office was 200 miles away) was
quite happy provided I still did the work he wanted.
Initially I sat on run-of-the mill court cases as a ‘winger’, one of
three magistrates, the most senior taking the chair for that
session. The cases included minor crimes (eg, theft, burglary,
shop-lifting, criminal damage, assault and motoring offences).
Just as HSE prosecuted their own cases, so did the police, the
Inland Revenue and various other organisations. Not long after I
joined the Bench, this changed and the Crown Presecution
Service took over as prosecutor. I have to say that, viewed from
the Bench, this was not always an improvement. Motoring
offences prosecuted by the Police had not always been presented
well but by and large the particular authority knew its business
better than the CPS prosecuter who sometimes struggled.
Meanwhile our local court had been joined for administrative
purposes with two other local towns and all the motoring
offences were dealt with by one of those and so we lost that
particular workload.
Offences by children and young persons were dealt with by
specially trained magistrates in the Youth Court where attempts
were made to make the proceedings less formal and forbidding.
These cases were held in camera as were the proceedings of the
Family Court which I joined after the appropriate training.
When the Children Act came in, the family court took on a
slightly different flavour because some of the work had previosly
been done in the higher courts. The Local Authorities who were
often involved, particularly in care cases, invariably employed
barristers to present their case and these lawyers thought that
they would win their case by lambasting the magistrates.
To me, the Family Courts were a different world. So far I had
been involved in cases which were usually done and dusted at one
sitting and were straightforward factually based decisions. Such
cases may be memorable for various reasons but one seldom felt
uncertain about the outcome. I related to family cases in a
different way. Often children and vulterable people were involved
and the outcomes were much less clear cut. For the first time I
found that I was ‘taking it home with me’ and I would be
thinking about the case outside court. This was not helped by the
fact that the decisions were often spread over two or three court
sittings and involve children taken away from their parents.
The work of the three courthouses was gradually merged over a
period so that the magistrates were expected to sit at one of the
other courts from time to time. This was supposed to improve the
‘efficiency’ of local justice but I was never convinced. At that time
Civil Servants had to retire at 60 whether they wanted to or not,
so I was retired but continued as a magistrate. I lived within
walking distance of my local Court but if I was sent to one of the
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other Courts I had to drive, usually through the school-run traffic
to be at the court by 9:30. This went on for some time until, on
one ocassion I was send to another court 15 miles away for an
everyday run-of-the-mill court sitting at the same time as a
magistrate from that same town was sent to my local court for
similar run-of-the-mill duties. Having had enough of that sort of
stupidity in the Civil Service I decided that I had had enough and
resigned. As I had only served 14 years instead of 15, I forwent
the engraved glass goblet that long-serving magistrates got locally
when they retired. They were good times but I had had enough.
Harlow via a Police Cell
In our teenage years we found several avenues for socialising. Bob
Harris and Roger Engledow were regulars at The Maurice Jay
School of Ballroom Dancing in Wood Green to learn to dance
and to meet younger members of the opposite sex. We also
attended several Whist Drives where we developed our cardplaying
skills, but where the members of the opposite sex were
not so young. On one evening we won a bottle of sherry between
us, although we were only 17 at the time. Roger remembers it was
as a result of volunteering to dance an “excuse me” waltz, but Bob
believes that it was a prize at a Whist Drive where we swapped
the top prize of a frozen chicken for the sherry.
Soon after we won the sherry, both sets of our parents separately
decided to go away for a weekend and left Bob and Roger to look
after themselves at home. The intrepid pair (rather ahead of their
time) came up with a cunning plan worthy of Baldrick. They
planned to catch a bus to Epping Forest one evening and walk
through the forest to see Ken Saunders, who had moved to
Harlow with his parents some time earlier. This would involve
walking through the night!
The plan included stopping at a park in Edmonton to borrow a
strange sign which said “Greyhounds need to be led” (which
would make them rather heavy to race). We set off with a torch
each, the bottle of sherry and Roger also brought a pair of pliers.
However, whilst on the bus we decided not to get off at the
Edmonton park but continued to the end of the bus route near
Chingford, and then set off on our walk through Epping Forest.
The walk seemed to be successful as early in the morning we
reached the outskirts of Harlow with a torch each, the pair of
pliers and an empty sherry bottle – but fortunately, as it turned
out, without the sign.
It was still only 4am and we were looking for somewhere we
might rest before waking the Saunders family. Soon a large
building with a blue light outside it was spotted – which when
we approached turned out to be a police station. Unfortunately,
we walked round it the wrong way so that when two policemen
returning from their patrol saw us it looked as if we were walking
away. They asked what we were doing and we responded by
asking for directions to where Ken lived. The policemen
suggested that we should go into the station with them. We were
happy to do so. We were then asked to empty our rucksacks and
explain why we had the items therein. The pliers were of
particular interest to them.
Roger explained that the shoes he was wearing had nails in the
heel and the pliers were in case they became a problem. Indeed,
one had been pulled out as it was becoming painful. A likely
story! But it was actually true - Roger had used the pliers for
exactly that purpose. The police were not convinced and at that
point we were separated for further questioning in individual
police cells. Both of us would have told the same (true) story
anyway but having told it whilst we were together made it easy.
We were both being told the same thing by the officers
interviewing us: “Your mate is now telling us the truth so you
should now do the same”. So we did: by repeating what we had
already said and no more.
While were in custody and still at an unearthly hour on a Sunday
morning, our older brothers at the family homes were each
woken up by a phone call from Harlow police. They were able to
confirm our identities. Another truth we had told them. We were
then fingerprinted and informed that we might be charged with
“carrying housebreaking implements by night without lawful
excuse”. We were finally allowed to leave but warned that if any
nefarious activity was reported in the area then we would be
charged.
We were released from the cells and left the police station, and
we did get to Ken’s house at around 8am. I don’t remember much
about what we ate for breakfast or how we eventually got home.
The punchline of this story is that we were told by the police
interviewers that the only reason we were being allowed to leave
was the fact that we were attending such a good school.
Bob Harris & Roger Engledow
EMBARASSING MOMENTS
THE FOURTH MAN – John Smith
For many years I was a roving correspondent for The People
newspaper. It was a role that took me to some of the oddest and
most exotic places on earth, from Tahiti to Timbuktu.
Whenever I set off on my travels, the editor insisted that, where
possible, my dispatches should follow some kind of theme. One
assignment was labelled “Islands of Magic” and involved trekking
round the world to places like Tonga in the south seas, Robinson
Crusoe Island, off the coast of Chile, the Galapagos Islands off
the coast of Ecuador and even the Falkland Islands, years before
they hit the headlines in the war with Argentina.
Closer to home, and inspired by the popular TV series “Upstairs,
Downstairs,” I took a look at the social divisions in modern
Britain. The contrasts involved spending a night amid the
luxurious splendour of The Ritz hotel in London and surviving
a wet weekend in a grotty caravan in Bognor Regis.
On another occasion I set off “In Search of Romance.” In a world
full of uncertainty, conflict, poverty and unhappiness, was there
anywhere where the spirit of real romance had managed to
survive? And if so, where was it?
The quest took me first to the boulevards of Paris, then on to
Rome to revive memories of of “La Dolce Vita”. Next stop, Sidi
Bel Abbes in Algeria, in the steps of the French Foreign Legion
as portrayed in the 1939 film “Beau Geste.” Then it was
Casablanca, adopting my best Humphrey Bogart accent and
stumbling around cocktail bars muttering : “Play it again, Sam.”
By the time I reached Vienna I was struggling to keep the series
going. Maybe there was a whiff of romance and bygone days in
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the air, with musicians in the park playing lilting Strauss waltzes.
But on its own that wasn’t going to be enough to fill a page in
The People. I needed something to spice things up. Seeking
inspiration I wandered around the streets until I found myself
slowly climbing skywards on the giant ferris wheel in the Prater
amusement park. And it was as I gazed at the unfolding city
below that it suddenly struck me. It was one of the carriages on
this very wheel that was the setting for one of the most
memorable scenes in a famous film “The Third Man,” set in
postwar Vienna. Out of the darkness in the swaying cabin
stepped the villainous Harry Lime who had somehow come back
from the dead.
It was stretching it a bit to suggest that the stark old black and
white film portrayed Vienna in a romantic light. But the movie
throbbed with the atmosphere of the city in those dark days, a
mixture of menace and mystery and intrigue. I found myself
softly humming the film’s haunting soundtrack , The Harry
Lime Theme: dum-dee-dum-dee-dum-dee-dum….It had
become a world wide hit, selling half a million copies, the simple
melody plucked out on the strings of a little known instrument
called a zither, played by an Austrian musician named Anton
Karas who had also shared the tune’s international acclaim.
Anton Karas! Who better to revive the mood and the mystery
surrounding that cinematic drama filmed in 1948 among the
shadowy streets of Vienna?
Back at my hotel, I consulted the concierge. “Herr Karas,” he
responded doubtfully. “He would be a very old man now. He may
not even be alive. He has not been heard of for many years. After
the film came out he became a bit of a recluse because some
people blamed him for becoming part of a story that portrayed
Vienna in such a bad way. But I will make some inquiries.”
I went out for a coffee and when I return the concierge greeted
me with great excitement. “I have tracked down Herr Karas,” he
said. “He is living in a mountain village about two hours drive
from here. We have a car and a driver who can take you there.”
So I set off the next morning, with a local photographer in tow.
It was February and as we headed into the hills a persistent
snowfall turned into a near blizzard, the car sliding dangerously
on the icy roads.
Worried by the worsening weather, the driver wanted to turn
back. But I was a man on a mission, and desperately dismissed
his doubts. Emboldened by the promise of a large tip, he agreed
to press on.
Somehow managing to keep the car on the road around
treacherous mountain bends we finally skidded to a halt outside
a modest bungalow.The door was answered by a diminutive, grey
haired old man.
“Herr Karas?”
The man nodded. I introduced myself and, with a slightly puzzled
expression, he shook my hand and ushered me warmly inside.
For the next two hours, accompanied by occasional bursts of The
Harry Lime Theme on the zither, and with the snowstorm
battering the windows, Anton Karas took us back back 25 years
to the days in 1948 when Vienna was still struggled to shake off
the shadows of World War Two.
The Third Man film told the story of small time American crook
Harry Lime who faked his own death to escape arrest for stealing
supplies of penicillin from military hospitals and watering it down
for sale on the black market, the diluted drug often leading to the
deaths of those who were treated with it, many of them children.
Anton Karas was playing in a tavern in the wine growing district
when the film’s director, Carol Reed, arrived there for dinner.
Intrigued by the zither’s distinctive tone, the film maker had the
idea of using it as his soundtrack.
Invited to sit down with the director and listening to what Reed
wanted, Anton took a menu from the table and on it scribbled a
few simple opening notes which he then plucked out on the
zither for Reed’s approval: dum-dee-dum-dee-dum-deedum……
Carol Reed hugged him in delight. And so the unforgettable
Harry Lime Theme was born.
Elated by my own encounter with the elusive zither man, I shook
Anton’s hand and prepared to leave. Already the exclusive story I
would write for The People was taking form in my mind: “In a
snowbound Austrian mountain village today I found the
forgotten Fourth Man of Vienna……”
As we stood on the doorstep, Anton said: “Mr. Smith, you have
asked me many questions today. May I now ask you one?”
“Of course,” I replied.
“Why would you come all the way from London in such terrible
weather to see me?” he inquired.
Puzzled, I said: “Because you are the famous Anton Karas.”
“Yes,” he said. “But why did you come all the way to Austria?”
Even more puzzled, I said: “Well, because this is where you live.”
“But there was no need,” he told me. “Every Tuesday and Friday
I play in the tea room at Bentalls department store in Kingstonon-Thames.”
42
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
My most embarrassing moment:
‘Swell to Great!'
My time at Stationers was cut short owing to a family move to
Hastings. Nevertheless, I have many memories of my time there;
games lessons and rugby matches at the Winchmore Hill playing
fields in freezing conditions, urban ‘cross country’ runs, choir
concerts in the crypt at St Paul’s and the odd Saturday morning
detention(!), overseen by the implacable Mr Symons.
I started as a first year at Frobisher Road Annexe (now North
Harringay Primary School), off Green Lanes and not far from
Turnpike Lane tube station. The transition from Grammar to
comprehensive education in Harringay had taken place a couple
of years earlier. This provided an interesting blend of long
standing and fiercely traditional masters and an influx of young
progressive teachers, which must have resulted in some interesting
staffroom dynamics, to which naturally we were not privy at the
time.
As far as I remember it was just the first year pupils accommodated
there. I had been learning the piano for several years and was
requisitioned to accompany hymn singing in assemblies.
It was over 50 years ago so memory fades, but there must have
been one day each week when no-one was available to play for
assembly at the main school. I had had some experience of playing
the single keyboard or manual pipe organ at the church in Palmers
Green which my family attended which was deemed sufficient to
be let loose on the significantly more powerful two manual model
at Mayfield Road! The upper of the two keyboards was known as
the ‘Swell’ manual and the lower, the ‘Great.’ Pitch and timbre is
controlled by stops which emulate orchestral instruments and
when open, air passes through the pipes which creates the sound.
For the Stationers‘ organ these varied in length between 2 and 16
feet, the shorter resulting in a higher pitch. In hindsight, it was
perhaps a rash decision to unleash a small 11-year-old on such an
instrument.
Mr Rumney, the teacher in charge at Frobisher Road would ‘whisk’
me by car through Crouch End to the ‘Upper School’ and take me
back to rejoin my peers after assembly. I may have been given one
opportunity to practise, but once again memory fades. However, I
can still recall how nervous and daunted
I felt the first time as I sat alone in the
organ loft in front of the console, whilst
the whole school filed into the Great
Hall to sit in their pre-prescribed places
according to the badminton court
markings. With trembling fingers I
pulled out a selection of stops in
readiness and wobbled through ‘Praise my Soul the King of
Heaven.’
I gradually gained confidence and after a few weeks plucked up
courage to experiment using both manuals - and the pedalboard!
When in the second year we moved to Mayfield Road I played
for assembly more regularly and was given special dispensation to
practise during lunchtimes. I often escaped to the organ loft to
avoid the boisterous behaviour of the older boys on the terraces.
It must have been the last day of term when the chosen hymn
was to be ‘Jerusalem.’ I had been working hard on the introduction
and felt confident as the organ produced a powerful sound when
all the stops were deployed. Just as the last verse ‘Bring me my
bow of burning gold’ was about to start and as tradition dictates,
I planned a thicker texture and surge in volume. To this end I
pulled out the swell to great coupler stop which links the two
manuals. This enables both keyboards to be played simultaneously,
with the notes of the ‘swell’ keyboard eerily depressed by unseen
fingers. The normal extent of a stop is about 6 inches, however
and to my horror, on this occasion it continued to emerge from
the console! After withdrawing it about 18 inches and with no
indication that it was approaching its full extent, I decided that
something was definitely wrong. The anticipated dramatic
increase in volume for the hymn’s climax was non-existent!
I felt the blood drain from my face and a sinking feeling in my
stomach as panic overwhelmed me. I have no recollection as to
how I fumbled my way to the end of the verse hoping desperately
that the obvious lack of crescendo would be attributed to my
inexperience. I pushed the very wobbly stop back in as far as it
would go and made a swift exit…
I would like to apologise profusely to the organist who next
played and may well have felt responsible for this malfunction
and of course, whoever undertook the repair.
Sadly the organ is no more. It was
rescued prior to the demolition of
the school and relocated to the
independent Upper Chine Girls’
School in Shanklin IOW. There, to
my knowledge its life was extended
briefly until 1994 when Upper
Chine merged with Ryde School.
Andrew Clark 1969-1971
Building site blunder
I graduated from University in 1975 and got a job as a navvy on
a local building site to repay all my student debts. It was a massive
project building a new council estate near Archway with three
entrances where supplies would be offloaded from delivery lorries
and taken to the various storage areas for subsequent access by the
tradesmen. It was hard work for a spindly youth and I soon
realised that the best job in the team was fork lift truck driver. He
whizzed around the site sitting in a warm cabin avoiding the
swamp mud and driving rain with no danger of any strenuous
activity. The incumbent driver was a lunatic Irishman who was
constantly being warned about dangerous driving and I guessed it
was only a matter of time before he got sacked. I befriended the
site fitter and one evening I persuaded him to show me the basic
operating controls just in case there was a vacancy!
Sure enough, a couple of weeks later Seamus crashed into a
43
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
lot longer than expected so a back-log of supply lorries had built
up at gate 1. Instead of driving back through the site which was
fairly congested I decided to drive out into Dartmouth Park
Road even though it was morning rush hour. I waited at the exit
for a couple of minutes but no cars volunteered to let me out even
though my cab could be clearly seen above the row of parked cars
so I nudged forward into the road assuming the traffic would
have the good manners to stop and let me out. Well a car did
stop, but not voluntarily. The forged iron forks of my truck
entered the front near side wing of the Ford Granada just above
the wheel arch and ended embedded in the rear door. It must
have been a strange experience for the car driver to go from 30
mph to stationary in 3 feet without realising why or how. When
he got out and saw his pride and joy impaled on my forks he
became very angry, aggressive and threatening so I fled to the site
agent’s office to seek sanctuary. The general manager went to
placate the driver who was being restrained by 3 burly builders
and after a heated exchange came back to talk to me. I was of
course embarrassed that my inexperience had caused such an
incident and I was expecting a P45 but incredibly he was very
understanding and supportive, realising that I was still in shock
he gave me the rest of the day off to recuperate.
Tim Westbrook
Coincidencies
Ken Stevens
I’ve had so many coincidences that they stopped astonishing me.
Three of them relate to old Stationers, the first two around fifty
years ago and the third a mere couple of decades or so back.
Number one was a guy in my year who I came across on three
occasions: in a pub near St Pauls Cathedral; in the paddock at
Snetterton race circuit in Norfolk (I wasn’t feeling too sociable,
having just crashed the motorbike!); and lastly encountered while
strolling along Sauchiehall Street in Glasgow.
The second instance was while leaving after a performance of the
Edinburgh Tattoo, having attended with the rather lovely
Scottish lass who is still scurrying around the house to this day.
There was – oops, nearly said his name – with a nice young lady
and we chatted for a moment or two, though I felt he was a bit
subdued in his manner. After returning to London, a mutual
friend passed on a request that I should erase the encounter from
my memory, as it was not his fiancée.
scaffold tower and two people were injured so he was frog
marched off site and the works manager needed a new fork lift
driver, pronto. I seized the opportunity and after a five minute
test drive was given the job. All went well for a couple of days
and then…….. I was asked to go to gate 2 to help unload a
scaffolding lorry which was quite a tricky operation and took a
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T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
Lastly, I and another lad from the 1956 intake, David Freear,
took around sixteen years to discover that we lived in the same
fairly large village near Reading. He had an early morning
commute along the M40 to northwest London and my haul was
M4 to west London. It was only after retirement, when both of
us signed up for an OSA annual dinner, that we found out from
the late Tony Reeve that we were unwittingly “co-habiting”. We
meet up for lunch in the local pub and he has even bought a
round occasionally.
Outside of a school context, the biggest coincidence was a chance
encounter with neighbours we had been friendly with in our
Bedfordshire village, They moved to Cornwall and we decamped
to Shetland. A few years later, visiting London, we were strolling
across the grass in St James’s Park, when another family crossed
our path. It was the ex-neighbours; a few seconds difference in
timing and we would have been unaware of each other.
Brian Whitehouse
Tim, in my life I have had more embarrassing moments than I
care to remember, and enough co-incidences to ponder whether
those ancient Greek gods are still up there directing our ways.
Herewith is a combination:
Many years ago my wife was heavily into cat breeding; showing
and organising of breed events. I built in our garden a cattery
with sixteen pens where the studs (both ours and visiting) and
queens were accommodated. The spare pens were made available
to friends and family, to save them the hassle and expense of
arranging commercial bookings.
After a while, friends of friends would ask to place their own pets
too, at which point we said “Look, we’re not a charity. We need
to cover our costs.” This gradually morphed into us taking more
boarders; often referred to us by local commercial catteries when
they were full.
One lady going on holiday was, let us say, very precious about her
little black cat, and demanded to inspect the pens; would we be
on 24 hour duty? (We could see the pens from our kitchen
window). Her cat “Absolutely must not be fed ‘ordinary’ cat food”
and we must call her mobile in the event of emergencies. Short
of the building being struck by lightning, this was unlikely.
Next morning, being Saturday, she headed off to the airport. We
assumed Manchester since we lived in North Wales, but (Sod’s
Law) it was Gatwick.
We also knew that (failing lightning etc) the cats would be
perfectly safe and well while we headed off for the day, to Slough,
for my sister-in-law’s wedding.
At 07.30 we pulled into Frankley service station on the M5,
crossed the almost deserted car park and ascended the steps.
Whereupon, the doors opened and who should emerge?
Yep! Holy Moley!
“Who’s looking after my cat?” She shrieked.
Quicker than I could lie to Gus Thomas, I cobbled up a story
about a family emergency. “My sister-in-law’s partner is in a very
dangerous condition (well he was going to get married!) and we
need to get there fast before it’s too late”
We assured her that our daughter was at the house and well
experienced in cat care, and we would return that same day.
We rushed off as she gave us a Gus ‘don’t believe a word of it’
glare. I didn’t hear her say “Detention!” But needless to say, her
sweet little cat never stayed with us again.
DICK HERSEY
In 2019 while I was at Lord's, watching a match with a group of
Middlesex County Cricket Club supporters, the group
conversation during the tea interval turned to WW2.
My neighbour at that time, Brian, said "I was born and brought
up in London during the war". I said - "So was I". Brian - "What
year?". Me - "1940". Brian - "What month? Me - "May". Brian
- "What date?" Me - "27th". Brian - "So was I".
Quite a coincidence to be sitting next to somebody who was
born on the same day as me. We couldn't go to Lord's in the
2020 season but I met Brian in September at the match between
his club (Hampstead) and my club (North Middlesex), where we
exchanged tales of disappointment about our respective planned
80th birthday celebrations that we'd both had to cancel.
Dick
In 2015 my wife, Rosemary, and I celebrated our Golden
Wedding and we left Sydney in late March for a cruise to the UK
followed by six weeks in the UK and France. All had gone very
well until Monday 1st June 2015 when we left England for
France. As with December 7th 1941, our journey to France will
go down as a day to be remembered in history although on a
much smaller scale. The experience would be added to Rosemary's
bank of "not to be repeated events" like cruising up the Thames
in 1965 and camping in Scotland in 1966.
We set off from Gerrards Cross on the 9.44 train and we arrived
at Marylebone in plenty of time to transfer to St Pancras on the
205 bus and catch the 12.01 Eurostar. So far all was going well!
However, on arrival at the St Pancras international station
something was clearly amiss. The line of passengers for the
Eurostar stretched in a very long queue throughout the station.
We joined the end and before long came the announcement that
due to a suicide between Ebbsfleet and Ashford there was a
major delay to all trains in and out. Some people in the queue
Our Trip to Paris
45
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
were off to catch a cruise - which for them would be an unlikely
event! The messages went from a delay to a suspension to
nominated cancellations. Our train was assigned to the
cancellation list. The announcements suggested that if we didn't
need to travel then we should not otherwise we should seek a
rebooking.
We held a council of war and decided that we should can the trip
that day and seek a new booking for the 2nd June. We adjourned
to a hotel that I had visited a few weeks before for my class
reunion. It was close by and seemed perfectly adequate. We
approached the reception desk and enquired after a vacancy. The
young man hearing of our plight took the initiative and said that
instead of staying there that night what about trying to find a
flight to Paris. We tried and tried but many other Eurostar
passengers had got there before us. We could get a BA fight at a
premium cost of about £700 plus the taxi to Gatwick plus the
fares the Paris end. That alternative was vetoed and so, we looked
at ferries. Dover to Calais was the shortest crossing and I thought
that there would be no problem catching a train to Paris (we later
found out that such trains no longer exist - they have been
rerouted via Lille without asking my permission).
From the station we caught a cab to the Ferry Terminal and to
our fortune a ferry was due to depart at 4.30 taking 1.5 hours for
the crossing. On this ferry we had a two great pieces of luck.
Dinner was about to be served and we overheard three young
people who had also been on the cancelled Eurostar sat near to
us discussing their solution to reaching Paris that night. One was
a young female tour guide who was very familiar with France, the
second was a young male Oxford graduate on his way to a
conference and the third a young female new graduate who was
in Europe on holiday. They had discovered that there was an
evening train from Calais to Lille where another train would
take them to Paris however there were two problems:
1. The fare was very expensive for the Calais to Lille part and
2. There was less than 2 minutes between the first and second
trains and if the first train was late they would be marooned in
Lille for the night.
They had contacted a taxi company and had been given a quote
for a cab which was cheaper than three train fares. Rosemary and
I overheard this and asked whether they might be interested in
including us in the taxi ride. Their costs would be considerably
reduced and we would have another leg of our journey to Paris
covered. The taxi met us at Calais and drove us over 100 km to
Lille. We arrived there with over half an hour to spare and having
purchased our tickets for the TGV train from Lille to Paris we
had time for a quick drink before boarding. This part of the trip
was supposed to take about 90 minutes but it ran 20 minutes plus
late and we reached the Gare du Nord at 11.45pm. There were
two queues for taxis – a prebooked queue and a normal taxi
queue which was very long even before our train had disgorged
its passengers. We were in for a wait of at least 40 minutes when
an opportunist cab driver approached us and offered us the
chance to jump the queue for a fare that was daylight robbery. In
order to fulfil my vows to Rosemary I agreed reluctantly and we
sped off to our hotel arriving at about 12:45am.
It was the end of a very long day! We were over 10 hours late.
David Maclean 1952-1959
CUTLER'S HALL BOOKED FOR THE AGM and ANNUAL DINNER 2021
Our President, Roger Melling and I visited Cutlers’ Hall
yesterday, to view their facilities and seek dates for next year’s
OSA events. The venue is impressive, and although smaller
than Stationers’ Hall should comfortably accommodate both
of our events.
Their calendar for 2021 is already starting to fill up and
consequently, their Hall is not available for the dates we
agreed for our events at our last Committee Meeting.
They have therefore confirmed that we can hold our Annual
Lunch on Friday 21st May. They will hold our original
reservation for the AGM & Annual Lunch on 26th March
until further notice.
Peter Thomas
46
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
FIRE THREAT IN CALIFORNIA – TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT
This happened only a month after they finally contained a
60,000 acre wildfire just 10 miles from our mountain top retreat.
We had to evacuate for five days for that fire!
I heard a truck engine yesterday about 4.00 pm and thought it
was the UPS van. When I went to the front door I could see that
it wasn‘t, not with all the red flashing lights. As I walked out in
front of the house I could see other fire trucks coming up the
drive. We had to move our parked cars to clear a space for them
to manoeuvre into the corner nearest the top end of the canyon.
I estimate that there may have been as many as 60 people here.
At first they weren’t even sure where the fire was and we were all
looking down the canyon at the clouds of smoke billowing up.
There were two spotter plans circling and then a helicopter
arrived to search and identify the source before going off to
collect water.
The firemen were all watching and waiting so I assumed they
were confident and not worried about their ability to put it out,
and I wasn’t ready to evacuate again. They were waiting for the
helicopter to drop its water bombs as they didn’t want to get
close to the fire location and be dumped on from above. In total
we had 9 fire trucks and four special white pickup trucks. This
included fire engines tankers, EMV and personnel carriers.
The helicopter made a number of trips to fill up with water then fly
low over our redwoods and drop its load into the woods. I was
getting phone calls from neighbours and we had some find their
way through the woods from Vine Hill to come and get a look at
the action. A very social event at a time when we shouldn’t be social.
Eventually they were ready to go down the canyon to meet the
fire on the ground and a column of yellow clad firefighters
snaked their way down from above carrying sections of hose that
extended from their tanker, and brush clearing tools. While the
Indians were whacking brush below, the chiefs were standing
around with their cell phones communicating from our mountain
top. A good job Verizon works up here, although they did have
professional radios too!
By 9.00pm they concluded that the fire was out and it was safe
to go home, but they came back at 9.00 next morning and went
down the canyon again, just to make sure. They said the fire
burned about one tenth of an acre, and was under the path of the
PGE cable-run down the canyon, although they didn’t see any
sign of equipment failure. They also said that the burn spot was
so remote that they didn’t suspect ‘foreigners” sneaking into the
woods for a secret smoke or other purpose. The ending opinion
was fire by cause unknown! In fact nobody has even identified
whose land it was that hosted the fire.
Thinking back it was great to have such support available so
promptly. Many of these firemen had been involved in the recent
wildfires beyond Ben Lomond and Felton, and included vehicles
from Santa Cruz, Scotts Valley and Cal Fire. They found that
their Knox key worked perfectly to open the two gates on
Timber Ridge Lane. They cut the lock on the SV water tank site
to access the hydrant there.
Overall a great success, heading off a potential fire disaster too
close to home! Thanks to all involved. Maybe we should organize
a neighbourhood walk to find the site and celebrate a win for the
good guys!
Simon Westbrook
Pics below: California fire fighting and fire engines on Simon's front drive.
47
Aston Village and the River Beane
Distance 5 ½ miles – Time 2 hours
Nearest Post Code SG2 7HP - OS Explorer Map 193
I had intended to share with you a walk in Broxbourne Woods,
Hertfordshire. However, the recent outbreak of Covid -19 and
subsequent Government restrictions, preventing me from driving
to a place to exercise has put paid to that, so that will have to wait
for another day. Instead, I have settled for a walk I regularly enjoy
around the village of Aston and the River Beane, which is local
to my home. We begin our walk at Chells Park, Gresley Way, on
the eastern side of Stevenage. Incidentally, Gresley Way is named
after Sir Nigel Gresley, the railway engineer, who lived nearby at
Watton House. Stevenage lies on the London and North Eastern
Railway line where many of Gresley’s locomotives were in
service. It is the last stop for many trains, travelling from
Scotland and the North East, before terminating at King’s Cross.
Back to our walk, as you come out of the main entrance to Chells
Park you will see on the other side of the road Lanterns Lane.
Head off along the lane for about 400 metres until you come to
a turning on the right-hand side, Long Lane. Follow this road
until you arrive at Poplar Farm and the junction with Tatlers
Lane, where you turn left into the hamlet of Aston End. After
about 500 metres you will see a ‘No Through Road’ sign on the
right which leads you down a track, terminating at a pair of metal
gates. Next to these is a Kissing gate leading into a grass paddock,
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
MY FAVOURITE WALK
follow the footpath in a south eastern direction across the field
to a footbridge over Aston Brook and onto Aston End Road. (At
the southern end of Tatlers Lane there is a small village pond
which has now dried up and has become overgrown with weeds.
This takes me back to my childhood days when the pond was
brimming with water and wildlife. During the school holidays, I
would often stay with my cousin in Stevenage. On warm
Summer days we would walk across the fields to the pond to
catch tadpoles, which we kept in jam-jars and fed with raw bacon
suspended from a cotton thread. At the end of my holiday my
mother would come and collect me, and we would return to
Hornsey by steam train, with me holding onto my jar of precious
tadpoles. They were housed in our garden shed at Rathcoole
Gardens until they were large enough to be introduced to our
garden pond, I do not remember many of them surviving).
Returning to our walk, continue along Aston End Road, then
turn right into Benington Road and straight ahead is the 13th
century church of St Mary, but we are going to take an immediate
left into Aston Lane. At the end of the road turn left into
Stringers Lane and you will come to a junction, take New Park
Lane, leading out of the village. Before you reach the Community
Hall, there is an entrance to a footpath on the right-hand side of
the road. This path follows the perimeter of the field leading
down to the River Beane. From the ridge you get a good view of
the Beane Valley. The Beane is a seasonal river, dry for most of
the year and is only evident as a fast-flowing river after persistent
rain in the winter. At the bottom of the field follow the footpath
running parallel with the river, after 1.5 kilometres you will arrive
at Ford Lane with a ford and footbridge, cross over the road and
continue along the path next to the riverbed. After a further
kilometre you will see another footbridge on your right, shortly
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T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
after this is a gap in the hedge on your left. Emerging on the
other side of the hedge, the footpath continues around the edge
of the field. On your left you will pass an embankment, if you
climb up to the ridge you can see a small reservoir over the other
side. Returning to the footpath there is a slow incline up and over
a hill where the main path intersects another footpath. Turn left
here through a gap in the hedge and through the Bridle gate to
walk up the hill to New Wood. This field is regularly populated
with rabbits which reminds of a story told to me by my late
Grandmother. Her family came from a farming community near
the pretty village of Kersey in Suffolk. During WW2 when
rationing was at its height, the family diet was sometimes
supplemented with game from the Suffolk fields. Her brother
would send rabbits up to London, which were shot in the fields
where he worked. He would wrap brown paper around the waist
of the carcass, apply an address label and ‘thruppenny’ stamp
before posting. Next day the parcel would arrive at our house in
Hornsey, handed over by an unperplexed postman, with the
rabbit’s feet and a head hanging out of the ends of the package.
I often wonder what remarks were made at the various sorting
offices along its journey.
Once you arrive at New Wood, keep to the right and take the
path leading out of the wood. Turn left into Holders Lane and
where it terminates take a right turn into Long Lane which leads
to Lanterns Lane, returning you back to Chells Park and our
starting point. There is the opportunity to add a visit to Box
Wood to your walk where you can discover a spectacular display
of bluebells in the Spring. The entrance to the wood is about 1
km, north on Gresley Way and consists of 60 acres of ancient
wood with a nature trail, children’s play area and zip line. In the
adjoining Pryor’s Wood there is evidence of earthworks from a
medieval settlement.
Some of the footpaths on this walk are on privately owned land.
Although the landowners allow walkers to use the paths and
clearly mark out the routes, they do still reserve the right to
refuse access. However, it is always best to check the relevant
Ordnance Survey map beforehand to distinguish between public
rights of way and footpaths on private land. The walk is
moderately challenging with parts of the route on country roads,
although quiet with just the occasional car passing.
Towards the end of the walk, if you turn left instead of right at
the junction of Holders Lane and Long Lane you will find The
Crown Pub which has a large pub garden and barbecue pit. Their
Lunch Menu includes, Fire Pit Half-Chicken £13.50, Cauliflower
and Chickpea Curry £12 and Pizzas from £8. Inside, a spacious
bar serves the award winning, New River Brewery ‘Twin Spring
Ale’ (4% ABV), ‘Harpoon IPA’ (5.9% ABV), ‘Restoration Bitter’
(4.6% ABV). Outside the back door is a quaint ‘Horse Park’ with
a hay rack and tethering rings for horses to rest whilst their
riders’ take refreshment inside, at the bar.
Peter Thomas
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T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
Me and my Motors
Achtung Messerschmitt!
No tales of exotic machines, I’m afraid, as my budget never
allowed for that sort of thing. My penchant was for three
wheelers, of which I owned three at various times. I happened to
notice number 1, a Messerschmitt, in the Cheltenham local
paper and bought it for fifty quid in the early 1970s as an
interesting curiosity. The name and its fore & aft configuration
hint at its origins, with wartime German aircraft manufacturers
no longer allowed to ply their trade postwar and so lending their
names to affordable cyclecars. The Messerschmitt aircraft factory
in Regensburg took up production of the Kabinenrollers (cabin
scooters), initially the KR175 and then upping the capacity to
200cc in the KR200. There was also a fast Tiger with a 500cc
twin engine and four wheels, though otherwise styled like the
KR200. The Heinkel and Dornier tags also lingered on in this
fashion.
necessary so as to remain aware of some drivers approaching
from the opposite direction veering over the centreline as they
lost focus while thinking “what the &@%$ is that?”.
Upon moving to a village outside Bedford, for commuting into
London, the ‘Schmitt became workday transport to & from the
station. At first, I annoyed fellow commuters because it wasn’t
heavy enough to operate the rubber bars to raise the car park
barrier but I quickly worked out that if I charged up and then
slammed on the brakes, it produced sufficient pressure to raise
the barrier. One day, I did this successfully as usual but then
stalled the engine. Unfortunately the metallic sensor was mounted
too high on the barrier column to register our continued
presence. A bubble car’s bubble does actually pop if poked by
something like a car park barrier.
The Messerschmitt’s major recreational outing was participation
in three years of ACU National Rallies. So as to enter into the
spirit of things, I removed the bubble, which left my weather
protection at similar level to a full-frontal motorcycle fairing.
Each time it hummed faultlessly round the 600 mile route in the
allotted 24 hrs, plus the mileage to the start point and home from
the finish. The illustration of a checkpoint card gives an idea of
the sort of routes required.
Messerschmitt and me
It had a very awkward gear change via flexible cable that was
difficult to use with any degree of finesse, particularly bearing in
mind that it was operating a standard up-and-down motorcycle
gearbox lever, rather than the H of a car gear operation. You
classic car owners might weep as I recount how scrapyards were
at that time full of ancient vehicles and you could just scramble
over heaps of them in searching for the parts you wanted. It
didn’t take me long to find a suitable handbrake lever with a
matching long operating rod, from a 1940s/50s car. That enabled
a straight run from hand lever to gearbox lever, with a much
better “feel”. There were no complications like reverse gear. Being
a two-stroke engine, it was happy to run in either direction and
so had two sets of contact-breaker points. Turning the ignition
off and then turning it anticlockwise restarted in reverse.
Theoretically, it could go as fast backwards as forwards, though
it was not advisable to try this.
At 60 mph max in favourable conditions, it wasn’t very fast
though it felt like it, being close to the ground, and driving it
required a grounding in science and psychology. Science was
because of the need first to steer slightly right towards a passing
HGV to counter its aero “bow wave” and then slightly left to
avoid being sucked across by its slipstream. Psychology was
National Rally route card
After a while, morning traffic near the station was becoming a
bit cloggy, so I switched to two wheels. I felt quite entrepreneurial
at selling the Messerschmitt for £110, more than twice what I’d
paid for it. I have a twinge of regret at noting the current prices
as upwards of £10,000!
Vehicle number 2 arose from the need for an extra vehicle in the
course of transferring north, and as a little activities workhorse
once established there. I easily persuaded myself that a Reliant
3/25 van advertised in the local paper was meant for me. So I had
a Del Boy van a year before “Only Fools and Horses” came on TV
-- oh, and by the way it wasn’t a Robin and the latter is a Reliant
Robin, not a Robin Reliant. There, got that off my chest. Sadly,
that’s one car that somehow never got into a family photograph.
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T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
Several years later and now back south again, a guy at work was
selling threewheeler number 3, a Bond Bug with a sportylooking
wedge-shaped body, mounted on a standard Reliant
chassis, though the engine was tweaked slightly and it had alloy
wheels. That became my commuting car for several years. The
name arose from Reliant’s takeover of the Bond motor company,
previously manufacturers of the Bond Minicars, a sort of
mechanical pony & trap.
Bond bug
That mixed name origin gave rise to a nonsense rhyme that I
wrote for the Bug Owners Club many years ago.
Lovebug - a tale with a sting in it!
Did you hear about the Bug who lived snug inside a rug
in a lane beside a lily-padded pond?
He strode fearless in the road with a rather pretty toad
of whom he was inordinately fond.
The toad was very willing and thought the bug quite thrilling,
so they made love in the middle of the street
- both lost within each others’ hearts, oblivious to cars and carts,
whose wheels ran safely round their prostrate feet.
As their passion reached its peak, a threewheeler low & sleek
sped down the road but saw not what they’re doing.
They thought that they’d survive; that its wheels would round
them drive
but its middle wheel abruptly stopped their wooing.
The moral of this tale is that safe sex must prevail,
if you’re going to hug a toad beside a pond.
Though she may be compliant, you can never be Reliant
on the eyesight of a Bugger in a Bond.
Thereafter my life revolved on four wheels, though with fond
memories of three.
Ken Stevens
The Mercedes Gelandewagen
or G-Wagen
In 1995 I bought my first one a 1981 280GE which was a bit
tired but on day of purchase it did get me back from deepest
Cornwall to the Cotswolds. It was only with us for three years.
In 2003 bought the next one, a 230G, which was sat in Long
Acre bearing a for sale sign. I met the owner the same evening
who was a Clerkenwell Jeweller, a price of £2650 was agreed, and
next day took it back to Cotswolds. We owned this car for
thirteen years until it was stolen in 2016 and dumped in
Gloucester Docks. Insurance company were at a loss to agree
value but we settled at £8750.
The present one, see pictures, is a 1994 300 GE which we bought
at Auction in Poole in April of last year. At its time the 300 GE
was top of the range, electric windows and electric sun roof, and
the car was warranted at 79,000 miles. In the four years before
our purchase if had only completed 930 miles. We have spent
monies such as total new exhaust system, and all the rest, but it
is our pride and joy. When we read through the car's history I
saw that last owner lives outside a small Somerset village and in
the late sixties I used to live in the adjoining house! Which was
a few hundred yards away. He runs a property company and , like
me, we are both Chartered Surveyors.
It is a lovely vehicle. Pleased to hear if any reader has one.
Nowadays they are a bit different and can cost close to £150,000!
Alan Green
Can Spurs win the Premier League - again?
If I were to ask that question of the supporters of another well
known North London football team the answer would probably
be “no chance”. However, this story is not about rivalry between
football clubs, it is about one day in history. My history. The day
was Sunday 7th May 1961.
I was reading a newspaper article recently, and the columnist, I
don’t remember his name but he seemed like a nice chap, was
referring to Spurs position at the present time of second in the
Premier League. He said that next year 2021 would be sixty years
since Spurs last won the football league. It reminded me of where
I was on Sunday 7th May 1961.
My father was terminally ill with cancer and was in St Joseph’s
Hospice in Hackney. We, at the time lived near the Turnpike Lane
end of West Green Road. My father was a lifelong Spurs supporter.
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T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
We, my mother, my sister Beryl and I visited him frequently, and
on this particular day it was the day after the Cup Final. Spurs had
won the cup against Leicester at Wembley 2-0. Goals from Bobby
Smith and Terry Dyson. They had in fact ‘done the double’, quite
an achievement for any team. The team was Bill Brown, Peter
Baker, Ron Henry, Danny Blanchflower (Captain), Maurice
Norman, Dave Mackay, Cliff Jones, John White, Bobby Smith, Les
Allen and Terry Dyson. Manager Bill Nicholson. I confess I don’t
have ‘Hemmings’ brain so I did look these up. Naturally, my Dad
was highly delighted that his team had achieved both the F A Cup
and the Football League in the same year.
After our visit we made our way home. I was driving my father’s
1948 Vauxhall 12. 1442 cc front bench seat, four doors and those
chrome Vauxhall inserts either side of the bonnet. However, at
some point we found ourselves going along Tottenham High
Road and crowds were beginning to gather along the pavement.
While I was thinking what to do and how could I get out of the
way, a policeman stepped out in front of me. I suspect by then
the team’s open top bus was probably some way behind me. I
don’t remember the policeman’s exact words, but it was something
like “Oi, you can’t come down ere”. He then parted the crowd on
the pavement and ‘suggested’ I turn into this ‘convenient’ side
road. I did as I was told, you would! wouldn’t you. Behind me the
crowd closed ranks like the waters of the red sea.
I stopped to take stock of our position. No sign of the policeman.
Stop and search was not so popular then, and he had achieved
what he wanted, namely to get this idiot out of the road. It was
then I realised the road we had turned into was, in fact, a no
through road. It opened out onto what was then a fairly new
housing estate. Ahead of us I could see cars parked outside
houses and flats, so there must be a way out. The only problem
was, that between us and where the cars were parked was a series
of long steps. They were about five or six feet long and a drop at
the end of about four to five inches. I think there were about five
or six of these drops. Naturally my mother and sister both said
“You can’t go down there”.
Those of you, and there may be some, who remember the 1948
Vauxhall 12 will know that it was a big old car, fairly high off the
road, although not a four by four of today’s standard, pretty
tough. My reply to my mum and Beryl was “Well, I’m not
stopping here all day until the crowds have gone”, notwithstanding
my own support for Spurs.
So, while the Spurs bus, the players and the Cup went along the
High Road, I mounted the pavement and gingerly drove the car
down the steps to where the cars were parked. I very soon spotted
an exit route and made my way out of the estate to a proper road,
and then to home.
My father died on 17th May 1961, my mother died twenty years
later in April 1981, and my dear sister Beryl sadly died in March
2015.
So can Spurs win the Premier League in 2021, if only for my Dad?
Doug Fussell
1954-1959, Caxton House (Right Back sometimes)
My first car - John Taylor
My first car, an Austin, nineteen twenty nine
The “7” it was and it really was mine
I was still at the school then –
About to start work
The car cost ten pounds
Two weeks wages, a clerk.
I took it to pieces, and cleaned every part
Then put it together, a real work of art
A handle to start it, not easy to stop,
As the brakes were so small
(though 7 horse power was top !)
I was legal to drive, though my skills weren’t the best,
As the crisis in Suez had curtailed the test.
So I cruised round the town, and felt like the boss
As the constable said , “Are you Stirling Moss?”
But a year or two later the engine exploded
The water had frozen and the block had eroded!
I sold to Dave Cowling , (my year at the school)
He lived round the corner and thought the car cool
Dave worked on the “7”, which got a new look –
He made it a special
So this picture I took
R I P
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Me and my Motor
I bought this car in the summer of 1966, having left Stationers’
in January of that year. It was a 1935 Morris Eight Tourer, and I
was very proud of it. It cost me £55 and my first task was to strip
the engine down and replace the shell bearings. I kept it through
university and had many adventures in the three years I owned it.
Once I was on my way to the M.O.T testing centre in Aerodrome
Road, Hendon, when the front wheel came off and overtook me,
bowling along the pavement on Hendon Way. I managed to get
the wheel back on and drove home, suitably chastened. It seems
I had forgotten to tighten the wheel nuts.
Another time I was on my way home from Southend with two
friends when the brakes failed. A gasket had blown and the brake
fluid drained away. In those days we thought nothing of driving
back on the handbrake and gears - a different era. I sold the car
three years later for £70 to an American as I needed the money
to emigrate to Canada.
Forty years later and back in London, I began wondering what
had happened to my old Morris. My elder son was due to get
married on the East coast of the U.S. and I fantasised that it
could be his wedding car. I wrote to the Morris Register, a club
for owners of Morris vehicles manufactured before 1940 and
received a very quick response. They had it registered to a Gerald
Strange, living in Indiana. I wrote to him and received a
comprehensive history of my car that he had owned for 39 years.
I won’t bore you with the details suffice to say the condition of
the car seemed to have mirrored his married life, in that it had
two periods of dereliction after his two divorces. But he had
brought it back to life (albeit in an Americanised livery) having
success at various car shows and taking it on the Indy 500 circuit.
Sadly it wasn’t practical to transport it to the wedding, and they
used an old Land Rover instead.
Peter Miller 1958-1966
My offering for "Me and my motors".
A photograph will be forwarded separately.
"In 1955, I was serving as a navigator on a Canberra squadron at
RAF Gutersloh in Westphalia, Germany. During my national
service, I had owned a 500 cc Rudge motorcycle and flown solo
in a twin-engine aircraft (an Airspeed Oxford) - but I had never
driven a motor car.
A German car salesman brought a 1937 Mercedes 170 V
cabriolet on to camp to sell. As soon as I saw the car I knew that
I wanted it. He suggested that I test drove it around the base but
I declined, not wishing to show my ignorence of cars, on the
excuse of no insurance. After I agreed to buy the car and the
salesman left, I sat in the car checking the controls and then drove
for about half an hour around the camp without any problems.
The car was very well built: a strong chassis and a coach built
body with wooden framing and floor. The wings were hand
beaten, there was no fuel pump - the petrol tank was in the
engine compartment, high up behind the dashboard feeding the
carburettor by gravity. Instead of grease nipples, a plunger to the
left of the brake pedal activated an oil reservoir which distributed
oil to the items requiring greasing. It had to be depressed every
100 kilometres. The car lacked a heater, but during the very cold
winter of 1955/56, when the Rhine at Cologne froze, I fitted a
heater purchased from a local scrapyard - Mr Champion's
German lessons were indeed useful.
On registering the vehicle with the British military authorities, it
became H 414 BZ (BZ for British Zone). I brought it to
England in 1957 where it was re-registered as 41 UUU. I
reluctantly sold it in 1959 when I was posted to Singapore. If
only: I understand the a similar car sold some years ago at an
auction in Switzerland for a sum in excess of 250.000 Euros and
there is a similar model in the Mercedes Museum at Brooklands.
I did not own another open car until this century when I ran a
three litre Mercedes CLK cabriolet. Happy days."
John Miller
My Chevrolet Corvette Stingray
I always vowed that I would never buy a Jap car. Indeed when I
was in the Hiroshima museum with my children and
grandchildren who were sympathising with the Japs I drew their
attention to a plaque on the wall in which they referred to the
Nanking massacre in which they complained that the figure of
about 300,000 that they massacred was entirely wrong and it did
not exceed 30,000! Irrespective of figures this was a crime but
they did not even offer an apology on the plaque.
So when I bought a farm in Cyprus 15 years ago I was perturbed
to discover that a Jap mobile was included in the inventory.
However this ugly truck is now 27 years old and is in regular use
taking fruit to the market or doing the airport run as it is so easy
to chuck the cases in the back. It is utterly reliable and has never
broken down but I will not disclose the make as I have no wish
to promote it!
In Cyprus we have controlled pedestrian crossings but you never
sit waiting for them to change to green when there is no one
crossing. As soon as the pedestrians have cleared the front of
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T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
MY BLUE CHEVVY
your car you drive off and if you approach the red pedestrian
lights and there are no pedestrians in the vicinity you do not stop.
If you do you will hear a lot of honking behind you from angry
drivers.
In the 1970s in the days of the TR3s and the Mini Coopers I
could never afford an American Sportscar but now at the age of
85 I felt it was time for a bit of excitement. So I bought a 1975
Chevrolet Corvette Stingray with a large 5.7 V8 engine with
outside exhausts. Stupidly I bought it blind without sending a
mechanic to check it as it was far away in Devon. The seller had
imported it from Kentucky and assured me it was a good runner
but the brakes would need attention. So when it arrived on a low
loader I took it for a spin and the steering was very difficult
because the power steering was not working and when I put the
brakes on went straight up onto the pavement! So that‘s when
the expenditure started and it gradually got worse until the stage
when we managed to open up the headlamp covers on one side
discovering impressive looking twin headlamps and the other
side a complete void without any fixing and a couple of wires
hanging out. So I made the decision to keep it as it is and even
the fact that the windscreen wipers failed to work do not worry
me as I would neve drive it in the wet. Because of its age you do
not need to pay any road tax or get an MoT and the insurance is
only £140. When this model was first introduced it would do 0
to 60 in 3.5 seconds but the tyres in those days could not cope
with the acceleration so the engine was detuned. So I had the
original Rochester quadrajet carburetor fitted and it now burns
rubber!
Best wishes to all
David Hensher 1945-1950
My name is Andreas Christou and I attended The Stationers’
Company’s School or famously known in Harringay as Stationers’
as we knew it in the summer of 1980 (To me, it does not seem
to be that long ago…).
I always loved cars and remember seeing a Ford Capri 3.0 litre S
(Sport) racing up and down Burgoyne Road and that reminded
me of The Professionals TV series, on my way to school… The
Capri was the closest car you could get to a Mustang (Talking of
Mustangs, who can forget Steve McQueen and the Bullitt
Mustang?) that was a British car and had the long bonnet and
similar styling with much cheaper insurance! There was talk
going round that an episode of the Professionals was filmed
around Hornsey. I need to make time and watch the whole series
and see if that is true.
I remember in the summer of 1982 a boy from another class was
telling everyone he saw a “Dukes of Hazzard” car in the industrial
estate off Tottenham Lane which can be seen from Chettle
Court. After school, we all walked together and indeed it was
true, there was a white, muscular looking car in the car parking
area. I went up to it and it was a Dodge Challenger with black
leather interior (Most cars had cloth or vinyl). That started my
love affair with American muscle cars as I just fell in love with
the outrageous styling.
During the last years of school, around 1983 where the Old Ale
Emporium pub at the bottom of Burgoyne Road and Green
Lanes now sits was a car dealer. He always had lovely cars in
there, nothing too fancy but sporty cars like Ford Capri’s (You
can tell I like them!) and RS2000 Escorts etc.
At that age, us Stationers’ boys began to forget about bicycles and
get into cars and motorbikes as an extension to our ego to be cool
and to attract girls, especially the Hornsey High variety. A
classmate of mine called Ercan actually “Borrowed” his father’s
(he was on holiday) Granada 2.3 litre Ghia and drove to school
in it. He then took us for a jolly around the school boasting that
the car had power steering which was unusual in those days, up
Mayfield Road and then raced down Denton Road aiming to get
to the magic 100 mph figure and slamming on the brakes not too
short of the adjacent houses. It was incredible fun then as 14 year
olds but now of course it was a little reckless and we should not
have been encouraging him…
During the third year at Stationers’ we even built a go kart from
spare parts and every Thursday afternoon a huge gathering of
boys would wait their turn to drive around the lowest tier of the
school playground in an anticlockwise direction. For those of us
who were Comprehensive boys, that was the area next to the
metalwork huts with the entrance to Denton Road. The next set
of huts were for pottery classes (We had amazing fun throwing
clay around much to the annoyance of Ms. Lazaro) and the last
set of huts was for English and my classmates remember Mr.
Williams well and his tales of WW2. He used to draw a phallus
on the blackboard to windup other schoolboys on their way to
the upper building…
For all other Stationers’, that was the wilderness that sat between
Stationers’ and the Hornsey Girls school according to Tony
Moffatt as per our conversation in the Cockpit once.
Sometime in 1984, on the way back from school and going down
Burgoyne Road with my class mates from School (Marios
Markou, Desmond Anglin, David Waugh, Williams, Panikos
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T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
Theodolou and others) we were approaching Green Lanes and
unusually we were on the right hand side of the road when by
chance we looked into the car dealer and there sat a beautiful, red
and very swoopy shaped car. I knew it was an American car as
nothing else looks like that and we all looked at each other
amazed at what we saw.
We went into the shop to have a look and I remember the person
who was in there cleaning another car telling us about it. It had
a massive V8 engine, the body was fibreglass and this custom car
even had a TV in it! We peered through the window and could
see the TV set (which was black and white) between the two
seats in the back of the car. The interior had a big handle for the
shifter (Automatic if memory serves) and a steering wheel that
stuck out far into the cockpit and it had the obligatory CB radio
which was used in its day.
The owner of the shop then started it up and it sounded
amazing! I was transfixed by what I saw and heard and I have
never forgotten it. If only we had smart phones back then…. The
car in question was a Corvette Stingray C3, which was in
production from 1969 (the year I was born) and was a coupe.
The hood or bonnet opened backwards and in there sat a huge
engine which filled the engine compartment. I do remember the
owner telling us that the engine weighed as much as a mini!
I thought the Ford Capri 3.0S or Triumph Stag sounded good
but there was no comparison with the Corvette. I left the shop
and my head was constantly turning back to see it. I told other
Stationers’ who were milling about it of the Corvette and they
flocked to see it too.
At school, I was good friends with Jason Tanner whose father had
a 1973 Pontiac Le Mans V8 and would drop them off at school.
It sounded great as it accelerated up the hill and the sound
reverberated around the school and all of the Hog‘s Back area.
Another TV show that most people our generation have heard of
is Knight Rider, a sleek black Pontiac Trans Am with artificial
intelligence that talked and drove on its own. At the time it was
unheard of and the stuff of science fiction dreams. I waited a
while in life and now own a late 80’s Trans Am with a high
performance V8 package that Jack Adamou used to work on for
me. I would like to imagine in future this car is retrofitted with
Google self-drive technology and I can just sit back and let it
take me for a drive…
The school car park, which is the lower building for us
Comprehensive boys and Hornsey Girls school for the older
generation was a place of interest for us boys as we were growing up
into adults. I remember Mr. Bennet had a red Ford Capri and drove
it to the playing fields. Sometimes he would take the odd student
too who bragged about getting to Winchmore Hill “In style”.
Mr. Leeming used to have a blue 1970’s Renault estate and drove
from the lower building to the upper building for lessons and
back down again. The odd time he was kind enough to give us a
lift to go up to our next lesson as we had back to back lessons
which started within five minutes of each other.
Recently I went back to the site and walking up the hill now
seems much harder than when one was a boy….perhaps the
gravitational pull of the Earth has changed since the 1980’s as it
is definitely harder than I remember…..
Mr. Ahmed the Chemistry teacher had a red Mark 2 Escort and
always left the handbrake off when he parked it. Students would
push the car into the wall and wait for it to come back and then
kept ramming it into the wall again to see if they could damage
it….that sounds awful now but for us teenagers back then it was
just a bit of fun and he was not really well respected which may
account for it.
Lastly, who could forget Ms. Jahans and her yellow Robin
Reliant? She drove it like she did not give a Carlsberg XXXX and
always had her dog Benjy with her. Many students would try and
tip the car over and thankfully never succeeded in doing so. Once
Mr. Fitch came running out from nowhere with a massive stick
and everyone fled as fast as they could as he must have seen their
antics and no one messed with Fitch! From what I know, she
offered a lift to many students and no one took it up unless she
was driving them home after some misdemeanour…
Fast forward to the future and I am an avid car collector now
only limited by space and of course the wife who is thankfully
very understanding but not as understanding as I would like….
I own two Three litre Ford Capri’s now, one of which I have had
since 1991 (Purchased from a classmate from Stationers’) and a
mark one which I bought and forgot about. Only when the
person sold his house to move abroad did he drop it off to me
and that re-ignited my memory and thankfully I still have it.
They do need restoring and I am planning on doing that in the
future when the children are older and possibly in retirement. On
the plus side they have rocketed in value now and it is nice to see
they are appreciated and shed their boy racer image.
I also have a custom modified C4 1984 5.7 litre V8 Corvette that
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T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
Here is a picture of the car at the Enfield Pageant show and
at the Robin Hood pub
once belonged to the Saudi royal family I drive occasionally but
having moved house, got married and having a young family has
changed that. Since it has sat still for a while it has developed a
fuel injection and overheating issue and so I will get around to
sorting that out.
I still keep in touch with Jason Tanner and we talk about cars
regularly. Many people know his brothers Chris and Steve who
also were well known for owning American Cars. Also Jack
Adamou, 1977 intake from Stationers’ (who used to live in Ridge
Road) is a big American car collector and very knowledgeable
and a great mechanic and it is great that we share a common
interest.
About five years ago I heard about a 1975 Corvette Stingray 5.7
litre V8 convertible with full service history that was for sale in
Canada from a so called “Friend”. The car had one owner from
new and a full service history. I was not sure about buying it as I
was not able to see it in person but eventually I took the plunge
as I always wanted this shape Corvette – the same as the one in
the showroom except in convertible form and without the TV.
Without going into it too much, the whole thing was a scam and
I lost a lot of money with no car to show for it. However, me
being who I am fought back and am glad to say I got my money
back and also found the car using my Detective skills. It was
located in Ontario, Canada and was in a workshop belonging to
a well-known race car builder.
I bought the car and it eventually came over to the UK (I used
to watch the ships GPS tracker in real time on their website) and
then picked it up after paying a mass of taxes on it. Thankfully it
was in good condition or what Americans call a driver.
It passed the MOT with nothing needing to be done to it, to my
astonishment, but thankfully having one careful owner helps. It
has been resprayed since as the front nose cone and rear bumper
were damaged in transit (the car was not tied up properly in the
container) and I drive it when I can, to shows.
Of course having a forty five year old car is not without their
needing maintenance. The power steering pump regularly leaks
on these models if not used regularly and will need replacing or
rebuilding. One can opt to change it to rack and pinion for a
better driving experience but it detracts from the original driving
experience. The exhausts need replacing now as after forty five
years they have done well!
Basically you can never stop spending money on them but part
of the fun is doing things yourself and actually enjoying the fruits
of your labour. I spent months under the car stripping the chassis
and painting it to protect it as well as respraying the wheels the
original colour and the brake callipers etc. Ideally I would like to
strip the whole front end and powder coat the suspension etc but
you need time and money in abundance which I do not have just
yet as I have a demanding lifestyle because of my job.
During 2020 and the Covid pandemic all car shows have been
cancelled much to the annoyance of my children who love to take
pictures with the car and then shoot off to the fun fairs leaving
me to talk to others to my heart’s content.
One of the best features of this car for me is that it has a
wonderful and pleasing shape, it is not too muscular or brash and
most people make nice comments about it. I particularly like the
fact that unlike supercars they are still relatively affordable and
are not snobbish in any way. People who own Corvettes do not
look down on others and actually support each other, knowing
that all different models are unique.
I run the North London and Herts Corvette club and used to
meet with other members and talk all things Corvette but alas no
one meets now and the car sits in the garage snug as a bug in a
rug.
I start it up regularly, I enjoy detailing the car and have recently
used ceramic coatings to further protect and enhance the finish
of the car. I do enjoy sitting in it with the roof off and having a
beer or two often in the company of my wife and or daughters. I
thought about installing a projector to watch Netflix, YouTube
etc but my wife has refused to allow that as I may never leave my
man cave and be seen again.
The paintwork and seats have taken a hit as my children jump in
and out of it but it is a car to be driven and not a trailer queen
that gets towed everywhere. The drive is superb, you feel so much
more of the road than modern cars and it has no fuel injection,
complicated electronics and computers to go wrong. Being a
basic car it is easier to maintain and the parts are relatively cheap
as they were mass produced but you normally wait two weeks for
parts to arrive from the USA.
Having an eye on the future means that from 2030 there will be
no more fossil fuelled cars being produced. If one day petrol
stations disappear then I may have to install an electric engine
into it to keep it running rather than it sit in a museum. At the
moment it does about 10 mpg and when hammered that drops
to about 5mpg hence why long trips are not favoured and local
shows work better for me. Also sitting in traffic is not ideal as
they do tend to overheat, especially on a hot day but other than
that they are a dream come true for many of us.
I wish the upper school building was still around, as I would love
to have taken a picture of the Corvette Stingray there with me
next to it, to satisfy myself that I finally managed to achieve one
thing I wanted to in my life, which I promised myself I would do
at school.
Hopefully when the pandemic ends and we have the President‘s
Day or an OSA committee meeting, I will bring it along.
If anyone wants to talk about cars or motorbikes (I am getting
into them now) please drop me a line and I will be happy to talk
to you.
Andreas Christou
56
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
PUZZLE Corner
Word Search – PUBS Around crouch end
Membership
SECRETary's report
Since last report To date
Paying members at 1st Jan 2020 485
Life member 1
Honorary members 11
New members 4 8
Deaths (7) (17)
Re-instalments/Resignations 1 (2)
TOTAL 501
1. DIAL FEN
2. LARVAL KIP
3. LORD OF DRAFT
4. HEALTH TINWARE
5. BAD FORMED GRIST
Anagrams
The following are all anagrams of Premier League Stadiums
Greek Sudoku
6. SHEATH THROWN
7. MR ANAL LABEL
8. ORDEAL LAND
9. CONCAVE TARGET
10. ROAD SPOOKING
The Sudoku puzzle
below is rated “Easy”
but, to make it more
interesting, has the
numbers 1 to 9 replaced
by nine Greek letters: α,
β, γ, δ, ε, λ, π, σ, ω.
To solve the Sudoku
Puzzle, fill the grid so
that every column, every
row and every 3 X 3 box
contains all the symbols.
Good luck. The solution
is on the inside back
cover.
4 new members have applied to join since
the last magazine report. They are Neil
Parkyn, Rodger Filbee, Christopher Alves
and Richard Smith.
The death has been reported of a further 7
members: Dennis Lofts, Peter Sargent,
David Waker, Robert Gingell, Mary
Anderson, John Dickens and Peter Cook.
All members due to pay a subscription for
2020 have now done so, although David
Chelsom has decided not to continue his
membership beyond this year.
I note, on checking back to the July
magazine an inconsistency in my report. I
tried to send it to Tim in plenty of time
but there was then a surge of both new
members and deaths, which led to multiple
versions of the report. The eagle-eyed
amongst you may have thought that one
new member died soon after paying up.
This is not so! The new member omitted
from the list was Trevor Stevenson and the
last death notified before publication was
that of John Heale.
Roger Engledow
I have been notified of the following deaths of
people who were not OSA Members but were
connected to the School either as pupils, staff or
friends of the OSA: Simon Baynes, John
Olorenshaw, Leonard Cole, Reg Wells and
Steve Turney.
Tim Westbrook
NEW MEMBER
Graham Eldridge
School years 1959-1964
Graham's biography
arrived too late for
inclusion but will
appear in the next
issue.
57
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
NEW MEMBER
OBITUARIES
Richard Smith
The careers advice from Stationers’ was,
‘Join the RAF or be a teacher’. Instead, I
spent the best part of fifty years in film and
video production. Rowan Atkinson
cajoling a stone to give blood and an antismoking
Smoker of the Future commercial
-made in homage to Blade Runner and
that landed up in a British Library
Propaganda exhibition - gained most
attention (and are still on YouTube). Later
work for government and companies, in
education, communications and public
relations, took me to North Sea oil
platforms, Arctic, Soweto, Brazil, Nigeria,
Angola and Cameroon, and up Elizabeth
Tower to Big Ben – to name but a few. I’m
now the worst tourist as I expect the
priority treatment I received when
directing a film!
My own company, Take 3 Productions,
established itself over four decades, but
when I was sixty-nine and interviewing
teenage mums younger than my two
daughters, I began to wonder if it wasn’t
time to let someone else have a go.
As hard as our school tried to drive every
last drop of creative writing from me, I’d
always craved writing a novel. With that in
mind I sold the company and Homeward
Bound has duly been written and published
and I’m on my second. According to Lee
Child, I’ll need another five before getting
any kind of recognition, so having left
Stationers’ in 1967, I’d better get a move on!
I live a goal kick from Arsenal Stadium
and my wife and I are season ticket
holders.
Richard Smith
Peter Sargent
School years 1946-1950
Peter Sargent passed away on 9 August,
followed two days later by his wife Pat.
Peter had been admitted to hospital a few
weeks earlier, having suffered a stroke. This
was followed by other complications, all on
top of various medical problems previously
suffered. Despite these problems, Peter
had become Pat’s carer and still managed
to carry out some engagements, particularly
attending lunches of The Apostles Club,
of which he was chairman.
Peter attended Stationers’ School from
1946 to 1950. Previously he had lived and
been educated in India, where his father
was an officer in the British army. He
attended boarding school, which was
several hours and a couple of train journeys
from his home. It was this experience that
earned him the nickname of “Punjab Pete”.
He also acquired a love of Indian food,
which lasted for the rest of his life; Saturday
evenings were “curry nights”.
Peter’s contemporaries at Stationers
included Mike Saunders, John Lettin, Sir
John Sparrow (obituary in the last Old
Stationer magazine), Peter Moses and
Gordon Rose. Peter’s very close and longstanding
friend, John Langton, also
attended Stationers but was a couple of
years older. They met at the Hornsey Old
Students Youth Club, the main attraction
of which was girls! Thereafter they did
many things together, including learning to
dance – apparently another great way to
meet young ladies. In 1953 John married
Brenda and in 1956 Peter married Pat. The
friendship continued until recently, when
advancing years restricted their activities.
After leaving school, Peter did his National
Service in the RAF when, by all accounts,
he played a large amount of hockey. He
was a keen hockey player; good enough to
play for Kent. He was a loyal member of
Tulse Hill Hockey Club where, after many
years of keeping goal, he graduated into
becoming an umpire.
After National Service, Peter attended the
London School of Economics where his
path crossed that of Sir John Sparrow.
They became very good friends and to the
best of my knowledge John was one of the
few people to whom Peter would defer.
Eventually a career beckoned and he
worked for Arthur Young, Ever Ready,
Grand Metropolitan, Barclays Bank and
Englehard. Typical of Peter, he made and
retained friends from all those organistions.
His roles were finance-based and he
travelled the world on business.
In 1977 Peter helped Chris Calvert, an
engineer colleague from Peter’s Arthur
Young management consultancy days, to
acquire a soft drinks company based at
Walkern near Stevenage. The business was
heavily dependent on the sale of soft
drinks sold in returnable bottles through
corner shops. The advent of the nonreturnable
plastic bottle sold by
supermarkets led to a dramatic fall in sales.
Peter encouraged Chris to diversify and a
plastics injection moulding business was
purchased and moved to Walkern. When
the Walkern site was sold for residential
development, a similar plastics business,
Ellis Patents, based near Malton in North
Yorkshire, was acquired and the two
businesses were merged and became viable.
Peter remained a shareholder and director
until his death and always took a lively part
in board meetings. Despite the change of
business, Peter always referred to it as “The
Fizz Factory”.
Peter was a Chartered Accountant, but he
always proudly maintained that he could
not add up! This apparent shortcoming
did not stop him from asking at least one
question of the Treasurer at every OSA
AGM.
Peter had “Stationers” running through his
veins. He was an active committee member
of the OSA for many years and was
President in 1975-6. He became a Freeman
of the Stationers’ Company and progressed
to become a Liveryman and served for
some years as a Renter Warden. He and
Pat were regular supporters of the
Company’s social functions. He was a
58
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
long-standing member of The Apostles
Club where his verbally combative nature
was frequently observed. He was still
chairman at the time of his death. He was
a founder member of the Old Stationers
Cricket Club.
Peter’s long involvement in the OSCC was
all-embracing. He played for many years
and always took care of the Club’s kit. It
was a family affair in that Pat scored and
made wonderful teas, ably assisted over
many years by various wives and girlfriends.
Pat was always “in charge”. The one thing
that Pat could not control, however, was
their pack of Dachshunds - there were up
to six of them at any one time. On many
occasions, “dogs stopped play!”. Peter’s love
of the club was apparent in his booklet:
“The Old Stationers’ Cricket Club – 1950-
1989 – The Story of 40 Cricket Years”.
Peter, Pat and the dogs were also everpresent
on Peter Bullen’s tours to Norfolk
and Hampshire.
Peter’s generosity was demonstrated by the
lavish lunch parties that he and Pat held in
their garden every year to celebrate the
Club’s anniversary. How we managed to
play cricket at Broxbourne cricket Club
after such hospitality is beyond
comprehension. Peter and Pat also hosted
annual lunch parties at the Old Fire
Engine house in Ely. Initially the guest list
comprised OS friends, but gradually the
guest list extended to friends made
elsewhere.
Peter’s love of cricket took him to Lord’s as
an MCC member, where he would sit in
the Pavilion, behind the bowler’s arm, with
Messrs Saunders, Bullen, Andrew, Lettin,
Wilkins and other friends. It was a serious
cricket watching day but with lunch,
including wine, on the Nursery ground
and dinner with our ladies in the evening.
After retiring from hockey umpiring, Peter
acquired a season ticket at Spurs. After one
season, he persuaded me, without much
difficulty, to join him. A couple of seasons
later, we decided to splash out and become
members of The Centenary Club. This
included padded seats with arm rests next
to the Director’s box and a plush lounge
for dining and drinking. Most particularly,
we found ourselves sitting next to Tony
Cole, whom we soon discovered was a
fellow Old Stationer and Chartered
Accountant. A friendship soon developed
and led to City lunches in the close season.
Peter is survived by his sister Pamela and
his nephew Ralph.
Peter was, by his own admission, “an
awkward old so and so” but was also an
interesting, generous and loyal friend. He
will be missed by very many people from
all parts of his life.
Chris Wilkins
with thanks to Ralph Colman, Brenda
Langton and Chris Calvert for their
assistance
Robert Gingell
School years 1958-1965
Robert was born in Islington on 20th May
1946 to George and Margaret. He was one
of 3 children of the family and is survived
by his sisters, Veronica and Joy.
Elliott & Hadley are his sons from his first
marriage to Linda. He later married
Marion in March 2012. The family are
held together now by Bob’s sons and
partners: Elliott & Leah and Hadley &
Mina.
Bob had worked as a Sales Account
Manager at Spillers, Allied Lyons (a
favourite of his sons because they always
had lots of cake samples at home!). He
performed similar roles at Stateside,
Hygrade Foods and finally at Natures Way
– from where he retired.
Outside of work he enjoyed playing Golf
and watching or listening on the radio to
football. He was a Gunners fan and, back
in the day, he used to play. He also liked
watching Cricket & was a decent Squash
player whilst living in Leighton Buzzard.
It’s fair to say he was a sports fanatic,
always watching and listening to any sport
he could.
Bob was a ‘Larger than life’ character. He
always liked listening to music and liked a
dance at the Legion. He wasn’t self-centred,
though, he was always so generous with his
time. Looking after his family, friends,
everyone and anyone who needed help. In
fact, he was often so busy looking after
others that he forgot to look after himself.
He loved to read and enjoyed cryptic
crosswords. He also loved a “bad” joke.
Children and grandchildren alike
appreciated the relentless bad jokes and
puns. He was making us all laugh, no
matter how old we were!
Bob was a true gentleman and a big part of
the lives of everyone that knew him. He
was an interesting and intelligent man and
we could always have a good chat about
everything from history to politics to
football. He was always there for his family
and friends and will be missed terribly.
Elliott Gingell
John P Olorenshaw
1939-2020
Sadly, JPO was unable to attend our
reunions in recent years as he lived some
distance from London and his “couchsurfing
days” were over. However, for those
59
former colleagues and students who were
able to be there, he hoped that the
occasions would stimulate splendid and
forgiving memories, from both inside and
outside the classroom. As he himself later
related, particularly on the table tennis
table, where some staff honed robust
linguistic skills during their lunch break -
all verbs were irregular! – and as Mr Lloyd
used to say: ‘Winners in’ - an apt mission
statement, even today!
JPO was pleased to receive our Old Boys’
news and commented that it was especially
good to have positive feedback on the
Whitsun school trips - after more than 50
years! He also recalled how ‘Dollars’ & ‘the
Palf ’ were splendid walking companions, as
were the youngsters – Plan X!! However,
he noted from pupils’ school memories and
subsequent careers that overall the appraisal
of ‘’seven years in the life of ‘’ was mixed and
that, as envisaged by Aristotle: “the roots of
education are bitter, but the fruit is sweet”.
On a personal note, JPO owed a great debt
of gratitude to Laurie Buxton for taking a
chance on him in 1961. JPO taught
Mathematics at Stationers’ from October
‘61 to July ‘65. He went on to Forest Hill
School ’65-’68 where Geoff Dolamore was
Housemaster, before locating to Sweden,
to see what a properly funded comprehensive
system could achieve. Who could
have anticipated the opportunities that
beckoned after the fall of the Wall in ’89?
The British Council established duallanguage
schools throughout Eastern
Europe during the ‘90’s in a wave of
optimism and JPO worked both in
Hungary & Czechoslovakia between ‘91
& ’98, where he enjoyed experiencing the
zeitgeist first hand.
JPO finally retired to Devon where he
passed away on October 16th 2020 at the
age of 81 after a fairly prolonged illness.
Colin Williams
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
David Waker
School years 1951-1956
David was in the same year as me although
I recall he was about six months younger.
Anyhow although our paths at school did
not seem to cross too much I did get to
know him well because we were in a group
who would go to the old Harringay Arena
where we watched the Harringay Racers
play ice hockey in the winter and speedway
racing in the summer against clubs such as
Wembley, Crystal Palace and Bell Vue etc
etc. Does anyone remember the speedway
riders Vic and Ray Duggan, Norman
Parker, Split Waterman, Steve Isen etc.
Another opportunity to gather was at
Spurs on match days in another group
which I think included the Tonies McKeer
and Hemmings and someone called
Meredith. As I recall we all applied for and
got a book of tickets for every single match
staged at Wembley in the 1966 World
Cup. The total cost was in the region of
£3.12.6
Anyhow David left Stationers in 1956 and
went to work for C T Bowering Insurance
Co in the city and signed up for tuition
with a view to taking the exams of the
Chartered Insurance Institute. He actually
passed these with flying colours and at that
time became the youngest person to pass
their fellowship examination which was of
course the highest qualification they had
to offer.
Whilst with the Company he played football
for them in the London shipping league.
Leaving the Company round about the late
60s he went into partnership with another
Bowrings man. Sadly that partnership
broke up and as if to compound his bad
luck at that period his wife died in her early
30s leaving him with three young children.
I lost touch with him for many years but
heard from a mutual acquaintance that he
had joined OSA fairly recently and I was
looking forward to seeing him again but
unfortunately he passed away before this
could happen.
David Turner
Hugh Alexander
Dear Frances and Harriet,
Thank you for your kind invitation to
attend Hugh's funeral. I regret that I'll be
unable to come, though, due to my walking
and travelling difficulties, but I'll be with
you in spirit at the time and I send my
condolences to you and all your family.
Tim Grollman had telephoned me last
week and I was so sad to hear that our
close friend, Hugh, had passed away. He
was perhaps the most intellectual of our
little group of O.S. (Old Stationers), a wit,
down-to earth and complimentary.
I was so pleased that he was able to come
to my lunch gathering and visit to the site
of the school and old haunts at the end of
October; and he arrived early, which
caught us out! He seemed so much in good
health then. He never minded coming all
the way up from Somerset to join us there
or at The National Liberal Club.
I stayed with him 2 or 3 years ago at
Williton in his caravan for the nights in
his front garden as he was refurbishing his
house. He lent me cartoons about present
day situations which he had cut out from
Private Eye and The Spectator, and I
copied and shared them with others; they
are extremely amusing!
Yes, Hugh, Alice, you will be very much
missed and I will have happy memories.
As a line in the School Song goes: 'Still
you are Stationers, far as you roam!'
God Bless!
Richard Hudson
Reg Wells
1930 – 2020
Reg Wells, who passed away in Devon on
June 28th 2020, aged 89, was a wellknown
figure in Scouting in Hornsey and
later Haringey. I am sure that many
Stationers who joined the Cubs and Scouts
at the 66th North London/Pax Hall Scout
Group, meeting at Pax Hall in Park Road,
will have fond memories of Reg as their
Scout Leader or Group Scout Leader.
Although not a member of the OSA, he
had attended OS events as a guest of the
late Laurie Darby, his predecessor as
Group Scout Leader.
Reg was one of those boys evacuated with
the school to Wisbech during the war,
although he also spent part of the wartime
in Cornwall. He lived his early life in
Hornsey, where his father was caretaker at
Rokesley primary school. He was a skilled
metal worker by trade, involved among
other things in designing and
manufacturing military hardware. He was
a very sociable and “hands-on” person;
many friends and acquaintances
appreciated his ability to repair and make
things in the workshop at his house in
60
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
Enfield, where he spent most of his
married life with wife Jean and children
Debbie and Daniel.
Reg was quite a motoring enthusiast; in
his younger days he was keen on rally
driving and navigating. Another of his
great interests was hiking. Since 1980, I
and several other OS, including Jim
Townsend, Jim Mulley and Derek Spencer,
have walked what must amount to several
hundred miles with Reg. Our walks were
in and near London, especially the Chiltern
Hills, in Hampshire and in Devon, where
we enjoyed the hospitality of Reg and Jean
at Moretonhampstead to where they
moved about 15 years ago. Reg’s stories
and his good company will live long in the
memory.
Richard (Dick) Hersey
Simon Baynes
I have to report that I learned today that
Simon Baynes, Robert Baynes' son, has
passed away in the last week. Simon was a
member of the congregation at St Albans
Cathedral and his death has been reported
in their weekly notices,
With best wishes,
John Rowlands
Peter John Cook
Roger Engledow received a phone call
from William Alden, the Company Clerk,
to report that Peter John Cook died in
October. Peter’s wife had rung William
with the sad news.
I would be very pleased if you could
include my husband’s obituary in the
school magazine. He spoke so fondly of
his time at Stationers.
Anne Cole
Leonard Cole
School years 1941-1945
Leonard Alan Cole, BSc (Eng), MIEE,
Stationers’ School 1941-45, died May
2019, aged 90 years.
He attended St Mary’s Primary School
Hornsey before going on to Stationers’
School. He trained as an Electrical Engineer,
worked in Westinghouse Brake and Signal
Company, went to Sri Lanka in 1955 until
1966, bought an electrical business in
Brighton where he worked until he retired.
His elder brother Stan attended Stationers’
School and a cousin Keith Hewett, he was
in the same year as Brian Murphy and
Peter Jeffreys, uncle of recently deceased
Stephen Jeffreys.
Spoke very highly and appreciatively of
Stationers’.
Survived by his wife and two sons.
Thanksgiving Service was held at Clayton
Church in Sussex and ashes scattered in
Sri Lanka
Anne Cole
Denis Lofts
I have been informed this morning that
Denis Lofts died at the age of 91 in
August 2018. Roger Engledow
John Dickens
1929 – 2020
Good Morning Tim,
Very sorry to have to inform you I have
this morning received a telephone call
from Ian Dickens ( John's son), advising
that John passed away yesterday at the
grand age of 91 (which he achieved last
month). He had recently attended hospital
for a skin cancer procedure and appeared
to be doing well but then suffered two
infections and breathing difficulties.
As you are probably aware, John was living
on his own in East Barnet where he had
been coping remarkably with his total loss
of sight and limited hearing.
Ian has promised to advise funeral
arrangements when known, which I will
forward (though it's my recent experience
that attendees are likely to be restricted to
30 at most). I have informed him that if he
wishes to send any eulogy or tribute given
at the funeral the Association will be
prepared to publish it in the next available
issue of the magazine.
All the best for now
Peter Jarvis
John Dickens - A tribute
John was a child of the 1920s – just: born
on 30 October 1929, down in Hornsey. He
came from a poor background but gained
a scholarship to Stationers School, and in
later years was very active in the Old
Stationers’ Association, serving a year as
President.
He did his National Service in Libya, and
then worked in the City of London for an
export company. That involved travelling
all over the world in an era where travel
was neither easy nor common, including
Bahrain before it was developed, various
African countries and the Caribbean.
Sadly, the political situation in Libya
meant he never got the chance to go back,
something he always wanted to do.
Later John set up his own export company
and had an office in Prince’s Arcade just off
Jermyn Street, which he enjoyed immensely,
especially the many lovely local bars and
restaurants. Rowleys in Jermyn Street
remains a family favourite to this day.
In 1955 John got married to Joan Barnes,
and in the early 1960s first Alison and
then Ian were born.
John’s work schedule meant he sometimes
had to be away from home; but it brought
61
T h e O l d S t a t i o n e r - N o 9 2
some home benefits too. He worked on the
Parker and Palitoy accounts, so their toys
would often feature when it came to
birthday and Christmas presents.
John played regular snooker at Barnet
Conservative club with his brother in law
Ken - although it has since come to light
he was a paid-up member of the Liberal
party! Apparently the dynamic duo of
John and Ken were hard to beat as a match
pairing; but there was no love lost between
them when they played against each other.
Tragically Joan died in 1974, aged just 43.
John often talked about her in the times we
spent together; and it was clear how much
he loved her, and how much he still missed
her. I wasn’t surprised to hear from Alison
and Ian that John often mused about how
different their lives would have been if Joan
had lived; how she would have enjoyed and
loved the grandchildren, and so on.
In retirement John used to go into Trent
Primary School in Cockfosters one
afternoon a week to listen to children read
– and he loved chatting to them as well.
The Head said, “he was warm, friendly,
and meticulously polite.” Those words will
be no surprise to any of us who knew him.
In the late 1990s John faced another really
difficult time, when he lost his sight. But
despite the challenges he remained fiercely
independent, continuing to live alone with
great help and support from his carers. I
know he would want to particularly
acknowledge them, and say a huge thank
you for all their loving care and support.
He really enjoyed the Potters Bar Blind
Circle, especially the musical evenings, and
loved getting up to Christ Church for the
Wednesday morning services and a good
chat at the café afterwards.
He also continued to love cricket, even
after he could no longer see the ball. He
was responsible for getting Ian sponsored
for MCC membership, even though he
regretted never pursuing it himself. Even
until this last summer, he remained for
many years a regular visitor to Botany Bay
Cricket Club, where he was able to meet
with fellow Old Stationers and many other
cricket enthusiasts.
So John’s life was a life with many ups and
downs. But one thought that always struck
me about him was his thankfulness. He
never complained about his blindness or
his other hardships; he was always grateful
for our company, grateful for all who cared
for him; and above all, grateful to God.
Chris Edwards
Christ Church Little Heath
supper club. Whilst Allan played the role
of Front of House Mary was to be found
in the Football Club House Kitchen
cooking one of her extensive range of
delightful meals. All the preparation work
for these were done at home in her kitchen
in Hemel Hempstead following which
they were loaded into the car for
transportation to Barnet for cooking. Mary
was always embarrassed when, at the end
of the evening, she was asked to leave the
kitchen and join the diners to receive a
well-earned vote of thanks. Then,
sometime after ten PM and the diners
having departed, the cutlery, plates, glasses
and pots and pans all had to be washed
and packed away before the two of them
were able to journey home for a wellearned
rest.
As I recall Allan was also expert in
persuading a range of interesting speakers
to join us, often for little more than the
promise of a good meal.
Allan died in 1991 and sometime later
Mary moved to Stamford, Lincs to be
nearer her family.
Lucien
George Sprosson
Dear Roger
I can confirm that George died a couple of
years ago. He acted as my accountant at a
pub I owned for his last 10 years of
working life and was a big man right to the
end. I'm afraid I do not know enough
about his life outside of accountancy in
order to provide an obit.
Nigel Chamberlain
Mary Anderson
Tim,
I have this last week heard about the death,
on the 24th July at the age of 97, of Mary
Anderson..
Her late husband Allan was, for many
years, a very active secretary of the
Association. Many will fondly recall that
one of the duties he took upon himself was
the organisation, at Barnet, of a monthly
Steve Turney
School years 1972-1978
Film and TV industry executive
Steve Turney has died aged 59, after
contracting Covid-19.
Turney was senior vice president of
sales and acquisitions for Londonbased
producer-distributor Power
Entertainment.
He was taken ill last week and died
in North Middlesex Hospital,
London, on November 18.
Steve attended the school between
1972 and 78.
62
OSA PHOTOGRAPHIC COMPETITION 2021 – “ANIMALS”
Whether you are an experienced photographer, or just one
who takes the occasional photograph with your mobile
phone, this is the photographic competition for you. Any
OSA member can enter up to three photographs which they
should have taken. The theme this time is – “Animals”. The
photograph can be of any animal: dog, cat, pet tortoise, lion
on safari, fox digging up the lawn, the world is your oyster.
Yes it could be an oyster! But no birds please. I am sure you
have some photographs that would suit. If the animal is
doing something interesting that would be great.
To Enter
Each photograph should have an “interesting” title, relevant
to the theme, and be accompanied by the sender’s name,
postal address and telephone number.
Send your digital or scanned photographs (colour or black
and white – or even sepia), as a 300 DPI JPEG file, to Tony
Moffat at: a.moffat@ucl.ac.uk
For those of the “old school” without
access to a scanner; send hard copy
photographs, which will be scanned
and then returned to you, to: Tony
Moffat, 22 Pig Lane, St Ives, PE27
5NL. Please use a piece of cardboard in
the envelope to protect the photographs.
Closing date
31st October 2021. Entries will be
acknowledged by email, telephone or
post.
Image editing
Images may be digitally enhanced to optimise a photograph,
remove scratches etc, but significant elements of the picture
should not be added or removed.
Judging
Judging will be carried out by a panel of judges who will be
using the following criteria: composition, originality, interpretation
of the theme, technical quality and most
importantly – how does your entry stand out from the
crowd. Like referees’ decisions, some people may disagree
with the judges’ decision, but their decision is final.
Prizes
The winner will be announced in the January 2022 edition
of the Old Stationer and will receive a bottle of champagne
at the AGM in March 2022 when some of the entries will
be displayed.
Publication of Entries
By submitting an entry, you agree that
the photograph(s) may be published in
The Old Stationer and on the OSA
web site.
Queries
Any queries, please contact Tony
Moffat at the email address above or by
telephone on 01480 764285.
Go on - have a go! Looking through
your old photographs will be fun
anyway. If you don’t have anything
suitable, why not go out and take some.
PUZZLE SOLUTIONS
GREEK SUDOKU
WORD SEARCH
Anagrams
1. ANFIELD
2. VILLA PARK
3. OLD TRAFFORD
4. WHITE HART LANE
5. STAMFORD BRIDGE
6. THE HAWTHORNS
7. BRAMALL LANE
8. ELLAND ROAD
9. CRAVEN COTTAGE
10. GOODISON PARK
The Old Stationers’ Association