I would like to
start by reminding you of what was happening in
1968. It was the Year of the gunning down of
Martin Luther King in Memphis, Tennessee; of
Enoch Powell's 'rivers of blood' speech; and of
the Fosbury Flop and Bob Beaman's leap into the
history books at the Mexico Olympics. But most
significantly for my theme tonight, it was the
year of educational turmoil with the French
student riots and the sit-ins at several British
universities.
It was also a time of great
educational turmoil at P.G.S. Although we 'Newts'
did not know it as we timidly entered the black
gates on September 4th.1968, and as at recess, in
line with long-standing custom, we had our heads
ducked in the outside toilets by the sixth-form,
we were to represent the last era of Prescot as a
pure Grammar School. Under the new headmaster,
John Weeks, there were several obvious and
immediate changes. The saying of the School
Prayer and hymn singing at assemblies were
abandoned; the wearing of caps for all but the
first years was abolished; we were taught not in
House groups or in sets but as IP, IQ, IR and IS.
In the next few years we were to witness the of
the abolition of the selected prefectorial
system, the splitting of assemblies so that the
Whole School met only on Monday mornings, the
abolition of prizes except for fifth and sixth
formers and ultimately the abolition of school
uniform for the sixth form.
I am also sad to report that during
our era, school societies virtually disappeared.
At the end of our second year them were numerous
ranging from the Natural History Society through
the Subbuteo Club to the infamous Omnibus,
Trolleybus and Tram Appreciation Society. By the
date of our departure only the Chess Club and the
Dramatic Society remained.
But as the old traditions were
killed off so new ones rose to take place like
the phoenix from the ashes. White Hart House at
Dent in the Yorkshire Dales was bought by the
Foundation Governors as a field study centre and
pro vided the first tastes of country life for
many pupils. Indeed, the George and Dragon and
the Sun became and remain second homes to many
staff and senior pupils alike. The Tuck Shop
(which perhaps ironically started life in Room 1,
formerly the prefects' quote domain) was set up
to provide refreshment for the masses at recess
and dinner time and also provided very generous
financial rewards for the entrepreneurial tearn
charged to run it. Indeed it has been rumoured
that Earnest Saunders learned everything h e knew
from a day with the Tuck Shop mafia.
While traditional inter-house sports
continued to thrive during our era, a new one was
instigated in March 1975; the inter-house Ale-ing
Competition which took place at the Victoria
Hotel in Prescot. Each team comprised three
competitors and to avoid to avoid spillage or
other more subtle forms of cheating a neutral
referee was assigned to each team's table. Indeed
as no-one had the nerve to announce the result in
school assembly as a follow-on to the weekends
football and hockey results. I can now make
history by announcing in an assembly of
Prescotians the result of the one and only
inter-house Ale-ing Competition. I am glad to say
that it was a victory for Alpha house with 52
pints, closely followed by Kappa house with 51
pints, Lambda with 40 and Omega with 32 pints.
(In perfect sequence. Ed). Victor Ludorum went to
Michael Hornby (Kappa) with an incredible 19 1/2
pints. Of course, ultimate victor was Joe Apter,
landlord of the 'Vic' who was able happily to
retire down south on the profits from that
memorable lunchtime.
It was our Year that started the
Sixth Form Pantomime with the most original
version of Cinderella that you are ever likely to
encounter. Perhaps the highlight was the big
audience participation song which was set to the
tune of "The Sun Has Got His Hat On"
and involved skits on the masters. The favourite
for most people was that on Ces
"Splint" Davies, who I am sad to hear
died recently. For those of you who may not
remember. Ces used to speak in a rather
sergeant-major voice, the words getting lost at
the back of his throat. His favourite phrase was
"sort of business" and he also during
our era became rather possessive of the school
minibus. So the verse went:
"Wah wah wah wah wah wah wah,
Wah wah wah wah wah waah.
Wah wah wah sort of business,
And the minibus is mine!"
Of course, any school is made by its
staff and we were very fortunate to have some
excellent teachers and some great characters such
as "I mention no names, but follow
eyes", Charlie Middlehurst, master of that
highest form of wit, sarcasm. How many of us
learned to conjugate our verbs following,
"Mmm, fifty verbs, little boy." One of
the other things that Charlie used to do was to
pick on the boy to read aloud in class, who would
always get his words mixed up, his sentences in
the wrong order and get into a real flap. Charlie
would sit through this fiasco and at the end he
would always say, "Little boy, you read like
a boiled egg." And what about this from the
Sayings of the Year in the late sixties;
Boy with hand up, "Sir, may I
go to the toilet, Please."
Charlie, "Can't you wait?"
Boy "No. Sir!"
Charlie, "Well. sit down and we'll see who's
right"
Then there was Gilbert Burrows,
"Bugsy" the Latin master. Latin was
such fun in the first year, wasn't it ? It was
all about "Vipera in herba est" or
"Longa vipera in herba est" or even
"Longa vipera in longa herba est" And
we learned rhymes;
"Use an ablative with de,
cum, coram, ab and e,
sine, tenus, pro and prae,
in and sub when the verb's not one of
motion."
But by the fifth form it was much less fun. The
translations from Latin to English were
fiendishly difficult and some boys' attempts at
them were pretty feeble. So, Bugsy would say;
"What have you got for the next sentence,
Thomas ?" Thomas would reply, " I'm not
sure that this is right, Sir, but I've got,
"Oh. barbarian, the ramparts having been
attacked with arrows since childhood. and
dolphins lying in the grass whence they
came". To which. Mr. Burrows' comment would
always be. Thomas, if that's the best you can do,
then you can stew in your own horrible
juice."
In our era there was also Mike
Harvey; that most eccentric and yet kind-hearted
of teachers. The tales about Mike Harvey are
legion. I will just pick out one which I think
epitomises him. It occurred one afternoon as I
was walking home from school. I h eard this
almighty screeching of brakes and looked across
the road to see a car had stopped dead about a
hundred yards ahead and had caused a virtual
pile-up of several cars behind. "Burrows,
would you care for a lift "' shouted Mr.
Harvey, head sticking out of the window of the
front car and completely oblivious of the trouble
he had caused. He was also the only soccer
referee I have known who would whistle and shout,
"Penalty, indirect though." And from
theSayings of theYear l970; "These Zulus
would run forty miles in a day - incredible
feat". And Ted the goundsman, who only knew
five words of English, "Get off those bloody
pitches !"
Thinking of the masters set me
pondering on nick-names. Some didn't have
nicknames so we simply used their surnames,
Gornall, Gray, Hardwick. Others were known by
their Christian names eg Des (Roberts). Roy
Taylor was R.T. Some were given a final
"y"; Scotty, Fordy. Getting more
interesting were those masters nicknamed in line
with their appearance, Lobbo (Fred Webster) ,
Beak (Mike Harvey) but I think the only vaguely
subtle example was for E. Fielding Kirk, that
most magnificent music master whom we all knew as
Joe - after Joe Loss.
Of incidents from our era I will
pick out but three. Firstly, The infamous
'urinating in the showers' incident. I apologise
to the ladies present but we all remember that
toilet facilities in the gym changing rooms were
non-existent and it had become commonplace for
some boys to urinate in the showers. But the
important thing was to get your timing right You
did not do it when a master was around and most
certainly you did not do it when the showers had
been scrubbed spotlessly clean for the annual
inspection by the governors and headmaster. What
you also did not do was to be accompanied by the
class idiot carrying a piece of chalk and who
would write in big letters with an arrow just in
case the governors might have missed it,
"B****** peed hem." Needless to say
there was all hell to pay the day after this
incident.
Secondly, "Th Afros Are
Coming". The Afros was a gang from
Paddington Comprehensive school in Liverpool
which had the reputation of having gone into
other schools and smashed them up. One Wednesday,
the rumour went around P.G.S. that the Afros were
coming. Every single boy s eemed to get to hear
of this and by the end of lunchtime virtually the
whole School had assembled on the playground
equipped with various makeshift weapons such as
compasses and rulers wherewith to defend our
heritage. My abiding memory is of the then de p
uty headmaster, Mr. Elmer, standing on the steps
of Room 1 telling the School to return to the
classrooms and that the rumour had no foundation
and was ridiculous when, to tumultuous applause.
Roy Taylor. the biology master, appeared on the
steps beside him wielding above his head the most
lethal weapon of all - the huge jagged sword-fish
that normally hung on the wall of Room 9.
Finally, there was Alfie Baxter. Mr
Baxter was one of the most mild-mannered and
nicest blokes you could ever hope to meet and
whose passions in life were history and cricket.
Sadly, he passed away in December 1973 and a
mernorial service attended by the whole school
was held in Prescot Parish Church. No boy knew
that he had an identical twin brother. I have
never seen so m anv faces turn white
as........... when Alfie Baxter's twin brother
walked down the aisle of Prescot Church!
To conclude, despite the changes
that went on, P.G.S. gave me a good education, a
passport to Brasenose College. seven years of
great fun and the best friend s I have ever had.
In short, I feel privileged and proud to have
been, and to remain, a Prescotian.
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