 |
| ....... |
| Your chance to
confess your Prescotian sins and seek
absolution! |
|
|
 |
| ....... |
 |
|
Dear Prescotian, my
confession is, I WAS PERCY. That may not mean a
lot to many of you, but it might mean something
to Peter Barlow. About nine years ago, Peter
began receiving mysterious messages from a man
named Percy, who claimed to be speaking on behalf
of the students. Percy would write some rather
cheeky letters, complaining about various aspects
of school life and demanding that action be
taken. I took great care to embellish the letters
with every kind of familiarity and liberty that I
would never have gotten away with were it not for
the pseudonym. The funniest part was that Peter
began to suspect Andrew Peckham of being the
culprit, Andrew being head of music at the time
(perhaps still is, I do not know). Andrew knew it
was me, and immediately ratted on me (the sneak)
when he saw he was the main suspect. Good on
Peter! He refused to believe that a sensible,
well-behaved boy like David Kernick could ever be
behind such a scheme, and Peter continued to
believe Andrew was responsible. Thanks, Andrew,
for carrying the can! [David Kernick] |
| Dear Prescotian, my
confession is, that as second year pupil, I did
not put my RE homework into Mr. Alfie Baxter's
locker because I hadn't done it! However, my real
shame is that I lied bare-faced and so
convincingly when Alfie handed back the marked
books to the class. My truth economy, managed to
convince him that he must have lost my book! He
even gave me a chit to go to the book office [run
by the ferocious Mr. Scott] and receive a free
new exercise book. I look back at this event some
46 years ago with no triumph especially as Mr.
Baxter was such a genuinely kind man. The night
before I started my teaching career, my father
passed on this memorable advice, "You can be
as soft as my old cap, but if you are fair then
you will be respected". It could not apply
to anyone more than Mr. Baxter! [The Editor] |
|
 |
 |
|
Dear Prescotian, my
confession is, about my most striking, and
memorable, sinful act was one lunch hour. This
would have been in Summer 1948 and we had scoffed
our school lunch, had the usual extra pudding
(obtained by concealing the first one we received
under the table on our knees). When we came out
there was still about 20 minutes or so left and
some bright spark suggested that one of us nipped
in to town to get some portions of chips. Turned
out that I, muggins, got the job and so I sneaked
out over the front wall by going behind the still
extant brick built air raid shelter at the top
corner of the yard. All went well and I was
coming back but spotted FAB and Hammond (eggs) in
the yard chatting about something. Crossing the
road I walked well past the front of the school
behind a slow moving vehicle and then crossed
over again opposite - as I thought - the Art
classroom. I had however gone way too far along
and when I took |
| a jump at the wall and rolled over,
still clutching the bag of chips, I landed in a
flower bed. That is right! if you remember the
layout of the time. I landed in a flower bed in
RSB's front garden and as luck would have it the
ogre himself was taking a postprandial stroll in
his garden. Needless to say I was told to leave
my packet of chips there and go wait outside his
office. It seemed ages but when he arrived and
Miss Bowley (?) left the office at his bidding I
was called in and given "six of the
best". [Ted Moore] |
| Dear Prescotian, my
confession is, I used to hang around on
the Recreation Grounds between PGGS and the
football ground. Not far away in Park Road lived
our headmaster JCS Weeks. During the Autumn term
it was always a laugh to climb over the wall onto
the PGGS field and then make my way over to the
garden of JCS Weeks which backed onto that
playing field and creep onto his property to rob
a few apples. Other gardens had apples just as
good of course but there was that extra thrill of
maybe getting caught by the head that made the
little escapade even more exciting. Luckily I got
away with it each and every time. Maybe he went
to bed early and was completely oblivious to the
fact that his apples were turning up at PGS the
very next day. [Ian Thorogood] |
|
 |
 |
|
Dear Prescotian, my
confession is, that I was always a goody goody at
school up until we merged with those pesky boys
in the 3rd yr.Then things turned and through
their bad influence I actually skived a double
sewing lesson. Escaping out of school mid
afternoon via the gate in the spinney.By the way
readers my brothers confession about stealing
apples ended with the police bringing him home. I
remember it well shame he didn't! [Carol
Thorogood] |
|
