School (part one)

Just last night I realised that is is fifty years to the week since I started my first term at Grammar School. Ours was the first "post eleven plus" year but I think I can say without arrogance, I was probably bright enough to have passed that anyway.

I was a catholic and went to catholic Junior School. I can still vividly remember my first day, at four and a half years old, walking up the road with my lovely Granddad who stood and watched as I was ushered into the place. It seemed vast, milling with kids of all shapes and sizes, none of whom I knew. My big sister was there but I didn't see her as we had started an hour later on the first day.

My teacher was Miss Ellison and I fell in love with her immediately. I reckon she was about 21. She had short curled hair and wore cotton v necked jumpers and a tweedy type skirt, over the knee of course. It's a little disturbing now that I actually remember what my first school teacher used to wear. It would probably freak her out. My oldest sister saw her last week at a funeral. She will be around 77 we worked out. I can only see her as a lovely 21 year old.

I was teachers pet. I learned to read very quickly and went through the blue books and green books in no time at all. Miss Ellison used to let me pick a more challenging book from the small library they had so I didn't get bored but I think she was right when she told me I wouldn't find "The diaries of Samuel Pepys" too exciting. I made friends. John Ellerton, Michael Carter, Mark Abberton and others. I haven't seen any of them for longer than I can remember.

The school day seemed to mainly consist of catechism with Miss Mullarkey. She was the head teacher and a formidable woman. She scared the bejesus out of the kids and many of the parents too. Oddly, I remember her deferring to my Dad. Most people did. Who made you? God made me. Why did God make you? God made me etc etc etc. I can still recite all that crap now. We learnt them all off by heart. On a positive note we also had our times tables hammered into us. I am grateful for that now. It should still be compulsory. Teachers were allowed to slap kids but, by and large we were well behaved and I can't remember any punishments. That changed dramatically at Grammar School. We all got a bollocking when the fist male teacher arrived at the school. John Leedle. He was the first teacher who seemed to have a first name too. He played the violin and we were amazed as we crowded at the classroom door to see him play. Miss Mullarkey was not amused.

I could waffle on for hours about this period of my life, playing football in the tiny yard, rolling up for Robin Hood or William Tell. Red rover was one of my favourites as I always broke through the chain. I must have been a little fat sod. I must tell my favourite story though. All the school was assembled in one classroom. We were being given some instruction or other when the most disgusting smell permeated the air. We've all had the farts at inappropriate times but this was the gold medal of stinks. It had an odour of egg belch and mature Camembert. Kids were holding their noses and the odd one was retching. Finally, the teachers broke ranks and it was the lovely Shirley Ellison who asked the most amazing question. "Which one of you hasn't cleaned their teeth this morning"

I loved that woman.